FF6: Visions of Peace

[Elessar]

I noticed a couple Final Fantasy stories floating around, so I figured there might some interest in something I've been writing.

Visions of Peace is an alternative universe FFVI, one that diverges during the events of the Floating Continent. I have taken great pains to ensure readers can follow along whether or not they've played the original game, but it definitely caters more towards the players. This is the first time I've ever attempted anything of sort... so criticism and advice would be greatly appreciated.

As a massive rewrite of the ending, this story ignores all events in the World of Ruin and rather strives to continue the tale from the World of Balance: The Empire is left headless and the world irreversibly scarred from the misbalanced Statues. The Imperial Civil War begins and our heroes continue to fight to restore peace in the world against all odds.


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Visions of Peace

"What lies behind you and what lies in front of you, pales in comparison to what lies inside of you."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

The First Chapter - The Floating Continent

Locke snapped awake, the sudden euphoria of sight and sound overwhelming his tired mind. His ears were ringing, and he could feel the dried blood caked against his cheeks. He could feel the pain in his side; something blunt was digging into it. The rocky crevice he had fallen into was not his first choice for rest. He tore off his blue headband and wiped his face.

"Locke!"

To the self-styled treasure hunter, the world suddenly focused. It was a common side-effect of the phoenix downs. The loud droning background sounds clarified into the screams of his friends. The blurred grey splotches before him turned into the skull-like rock formations that plagued the Floating Continent.

The Floating...

Locke shot to his feet while ignoring the sudden pain in his side. He clutched at Ifrit, the former esper hanging off a thin silver chain around his neck. The magicite had grown dark. Locke could still feel the headache brought on by his sudden reliance on magic. He had totally forgotten about the battle.

"Locke! Get Terra now!"

Edgar Figaro's order told Locke exactly how long he had been out. No less than a minute. The young king was too busy aiming his crossbow to cast Locke a look, but his voice was as commanding as ever.

Locke scanned the scene, looking for Terra. Their defensive line was a mess. The attempt to defend one of the few outcroppings of rock that the airship could reach was disintegrating into a pitched battle for their lives. Celes' men were all good soldiers. They were men of honor, fighting for the belief that their General had never betrayed the ideals of the Empire. They fought back with a tenacity that rivaled the monsters that massed on the Floating Island. However, they were few, and the Emperor's Imperial Guard was far better equipped than any of them.

But Locke cared little for the defense of the port. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her prone body, lying on the field far to the north.

The young thief charged across the battlefield blindly. An arrow or two grazed him, but he didn't feel a thing as he reached Terra's side. The green haired half-esper lay on her back. She was not visibly injured to Locke's relief, but she was not moving either. He pulled a phoenix down from his pocket, but could already tell that Terra would not be woken by the battlefield medicine.

Locke carefully moved Terra into a less compromising position. Her head lay lifelessly against his knees. Her eyes were open but unseeing.

Something had happened with the Statues. Locke had seen Terra act like this when she was first exposed to the esper Tritoch. Something was very wrong, and the Statues were at the bottom of the mess.

But the statues were even farther to the north. Terra had guided Setzer to the perfect landing spot: a large empty field large enough for their airship, the Blackjack, to land but miraculously close to the Statues. It was such a perfect spot that it had been occupied by the Emperor's personal airship and a contingent of soldiers. They secured the port, cut off the Imperial Guard and then kept to a simple plan: hold the soldiers back as best they could, while Terra, Celes, and Cyan took care of the statues. After all, Terra and Celes had far more experience with arcane magic than any of them could claim to. They were the only hope against whatever mad scheme Gestahl had planned.

"Terra... what happened?" Locke whispered.

===

Edgar swore as his hands grasped in vain for another cross bolt. He was out of ammunition at last; hundreds of bolts had been spent. First there had been the soldiers protecting the port, then came the monsters attracted by the airship's approach, and now the Emperor's most elite soldiers. He was almost relieved; the job of an archer had been more than strenuous. It was a constant adrenaline rush. Each bolt had to count; each reload was precious time that could leave someone dead. Being an archer was to be the protector of the men at the front. But at the same time though, the young king knew that it would only get more dangerous from here.

So be it.

His mythril spear shone in the midday sun as he made his way towards the front. Edgar knew what he looked like. The gleaming half plate on his chest and the great flowing blue cape behind him drew the attention of every single man of the Imperial Guard. Many had seen him before in Vector, the King of Figaro and a champion of the rebel cause. He was a pillar of light in the midst of Celes' loyal men, his long blond hair and tall stature a stark contrast to the brown armor and helmets that those soldiers wore.

Edgar had lead the assault by using the rocky inlets and passages of the Floating Continent like trenches, arrows and bolts flying from side to side as archers tried to pick one another off. The Imperials had been caught unawares; they were surprised that their own men, an organized task force at that, had attacked them from behind. Archers had killed the first charge across the unprotected plains, popping up from the trenches and striking with lethal precision. When the Imperials realized the extent of the attack, they began emulating the same with their archers while their foot soldiers charged in the maze-like trenches, looking for a protected way of reaching the traitors. There was a passage in plain sight of the south, and now that passage was a mass of soldiers hacking at each other. A second narrower passage had also been found to the east, but Sabin had closed it up personally and Edgar had repositioned some archers to oversee that area.

Edgar quickly scanned the battlefield. It was to the east that was the most hotly contested. The narrow passage made it impossible to swarm, and archers meant little due to the height of the walls and the location. Edgar ran down the maze to his brother's aid.

A blast of lightning ricocheted off his reflect spell. Edgar whispered a prayer of thanks to Carbunkl, the esper that was now safely stowed behind his half plate. He would never have thought of protecting himself in that manner, despite the troubling numbers of Imperial soldiers that had been infused with magic. But the esper had touched his mind and Edgar had reluctantly cast the spell.

With a great battle cry, Edgar charged into the fray, swinging his spear wildly and making his way towards his twin brother. Sabin was in the thick of the battle, a flurry of fists as the skillful martial artist made fools of the Empire's best soldiers. Edgar knew his brother was in no danger, but he could probably use the help. Sabin had positioned himself directly in the midst of the passage, at the narrowest point no less. Two men, one in silvery plate mail with a great broadsword, the other in green chain mail holding two twin swords, held their ground beside Sabin.

The two men were Captain Marcus Sandford and Lieutenant Michals Bethon. Marcus had ambushed them while they had been preparing Setzer's airship for an assault on the Floating Continent. As a former Imperial Special Forces leader, Marcus had tracked down his former commander, General Celes Chere, with intention to save her from the rebels. Upon learning the truth however, he and his men had defected. Their loyalty to Celes was astounding, and they were the only reason that the Emperor's guards had not torn them apart before they even landed on the continent.

Edgar tore apart the Empire's best eagerly. He ducked beneath the blades of his foes and didn't even miss a step as another blast of lightning hammered against his protective shield. Charging the Magitek Knight that had just attacked him, he took the man's arm off cleanly before decapitating him.

"King Edgar!" Captain Marcus shouted as he kicked his opponent aside. The poor soldier fell to the ground, his last thoughts clouded by fear as Marcus brought his broadsword down. "We can handle this!" the soldier shouted. "You should stay far outside of battle!"

Edgar pushed his latest opponent aside, stepping back far enough for an arrow to pierce the soldier's heart. Marcus' sharpshooters were still cocking arrows and giving them what support they could. "Marcus, we need to fall back. Your Magitek Armors can't defend this area, and we're running out of arrows back there!"

The scruffy soldier looked like he was about to speak when an earthquake shook them both to the ground. Edgar fell to his knees as the massive rumbling ravaged the entire island.

Carbunkl grew hot against his chest, the dead esper seeming to react to the earthquake.

Edgar stood up slowly, cautious because of Carbunkl's reaction. The four of them were alone. The Imperials had stopped attempting to rush the narrow passageway, allowing Sabin and Michals to easily demolish the few that had remained behind. Neither had been off-balance during the quake and easily gained the upper hand while their opponents fell.

"What was that?" Marcus asked, "And why are the Imperial Guards running away like this? That bunch of fanatics wouldn't turn tail even if-"

The second quake was not as surprising as the first, but Edgar looked around in horror as the passageway began to crumble. Carbunkl had warmed again, this time before the quake had even begun. It was as if the dead esper was reacting in pain to the earthquakes.

"I think we better head back," Michals said as they steadied themselves against the walls.

"I think you're right," Edgar replied. Never had the magicite heated up of their own accord. The shards of Espers actually became as cold as ice at times of usage. The heat against his chest worried Edgar.

===

Celes cursed under her breath as she got back to her feet. She brushed back her hair as she focused a blast of lightning at the retreating shape.

"Kefka!" she screamed in anger. She gave little thought in her rage, completely caught in the moment.

A dark shadow knocked her over even as she felt her back heat up rapidly. Her brilliant white cape smothered against the ground while she rolled to a stop. Celes looked up in surprise and relief, as Shadow stood protectively over her. Her blond hair was slightly charred; she knew that she had just barely survived a full power fire beam.

Behind her, the mighty Magitek armor planted its legs firmly against the ground, steam releasing from what seemed like ears. Its huge form, over three-men tall, loomed over them with deadly intent. The machine seemed almost alive, its arms stretching outward as the dark armor began to glow an unearthly yellow. Its head pointed into the air as it let loose a bone-chilling scream.

Celes barely saw Shadow's arms move. The ninja quickly launched three shuriken at the armor, the metal stars hardly scratching the great machine. Unfazed, Shadow jumped into the air as he threw yet another trio of stars.

Within the armor, the pilot drew his last breath.

The Magitek continued forward though, ignoring the death of its pilot. A beam of blue light shot from its right arm, and Celes dived out of the way as the ice beam tore its way through the maze-like passages of the floating island.

Suddenly, another quake shook the island to its very core. Celes was lucky, and saw the cracks in the ground open up. She jumped aside as the ground began to fall apart, grabbing a hold of a solid outcropping of rock. The Magitek armor was not so lucky, as the cracks had seemed to wind their way around the great machine. The ground beneath its huge legs gave way, and the armor teetered to the ground before falling right through.

A powerful hand grabbed the former General and pulled her up. Celes found herself staring into the face of Cyan, the old knight looking quite concerned over his female charge.

"Celes, art thou wounded?" he asked her.

Celes glanced back in the direction that Kefka had fled. "I need to finish him! We can't let him bide his time and make a second try for the statues."

Cyan shook his head. "The very land shakes in pain. This monstrosity will fly no longer, and we must take our leave now."

Celes narrowed her blue eyes. The young Magitek Knight glanced back at the horribly shifted Statues. The image of Gestahl falling off the edge of the island still haunted her, and she made up her mind in an instant.

"Cyan, we were lucky to catch Kefka unaware," she said as her hand smoothly made its way down to her waist. "If we abandon the Statues now, he'll try to get his hands on them again, and I will not let that happen twice."

"There is no time to-"

She didn't have the time to argue, and Cyan was as stubborn as Locke was irritating. Not pausing to wonder why she had compared Cyan to Locke, Celes freed her long sword quickly and rammed the handle deep into Cyan's side. The old knight was surprised and gasped as his breath was driven out of him.

And that was all the time Celes needed to whisper the words. Her hand shot out, throwing Cyan back on a blast of air.

Celes turned away from the sight of Cyan traveling hundreds of meters on a single blast of air. She would apologize to him if she survived. And if she didn't... her apology would be the dead body of Kefka.

"If you think you can catch me like that, you had better think again, General."

Celes was caught off guard by Shadow, who had abandoned the Statues and stood mere inches away from her. His dagger, a wickedly curved blade, was a hair away from her neck. He leaned close to her, a mere breath's away, his intention lethal.

"Shadow, I'm going after Kefka," she said with as much force as she could. Her eyes locked with the ninja's shrouded eyes, black globes that betrayed nothing of their owner. She swallowed, fighting against the rising fear inside her. A part of her wanted him to fight, to force her to return to her friends. The part of her that did not wish to die, the selfish portion that was appealing to her logical side. And despite the courage that had welled up within her. Despite the dead body of Gestahl that was a constant reminder of Kefka's treachery. Despite her memory of Leo, Yura and the Espers... despite all that... the fear was winning.

Celes did not want to die.

Shadow was silent for a moment. He seemed to be considering something, but then lowered his blade quickly. "Then we better hurry," he said.

The path back to her friends vanished.

Celes frowned. "I appreciate the help, but-"

"No one double-crosses me," Shadow said. The ninja turned away from her and jumped off the outcropping.

Celes replaced her blade and followed the ninja's path. Her doubts disappeared as she mused the turn of events. Shadow had already saved her life on plenty of counts, and it would have been foolhardy to go after Kefka alone. And... there was nothing to fear from death. After all, she had company on her journey to hell.

===

Edgar looked at the condition of the old knight. "Locke," he asked questioningly. "What happened here?"

Locke was annoyed by the question and his sudden change in roles. He was about to snap an angry remark when Cyan interrupted him.

"The statues-" the old knight gasped.

Edgar knelt to the ground to face Cyan. The former Doma Knight had been pulled out of from a landslide. So far, the only explanation offered had been that Cyan had flown like a bird, crashing through one their blockades with great force and knocking out one of the Emperor's commanding officers in the process.

How absurd.

"Where's Celes? Why did Terra appear out of nowhere near the port?" Edgar was growing evermore concerned. Carbunkl was warm to the touch, and that made him uncomfortable. "What happened with the Statues? Where's Kefka and the Emperor? What is going-"

"King Edgar, please."

Edgar moved aside as a soldier held up a small flask of bluish liquid. The soldier held it up to Cyan's mouth, urging the old knight to drink it.

"Celes is alone right now," Locke commented.

"Shadow is with her," Cyan said, his voice growing stronger. The soldier helped Cyan stand, steadying the dizzy knight.

"That mercenary?" Edgar snapped. "How?" he shook his head. "Never mind that, he's-"

"He was betrayed by Kefka," Cyan interrupted. "Helped us fight Gestahl," his black eyes locked with Edgar's. The former Doma Knight had decades of battlefield experience. Those many years gave his voice a commanding tone that silenced everyone else with sheer authority. "The statues were moved out of place, the balance Strago warned us about no longer exists. There is little time before this monstrosity falls apart."

Locke's eyes widened. "The statues-" he started.

"Where's Celes," Edgar snapped.

"The lady General chases Kefka." Cyan answered. "She forcibly sent me back here with her magic."

That treacherous Imperial witch, Edgar finished the rest of the sentence. He could see that Cyan barely caught a hold on his anger.

Locke shot to his feet. "We have to go after her!" he declared. "If the island is falling apart, then we can't leave her behind."

Edgar nodded. "This isn't the time for insane one-man heroics. I'll order Marcus to begin the retreat and carry Terra somewhere safe, we three will go after Celes," the King stood to his feet, one hand gripping his spear.

"The retreat is already well under way, King Edgar," Marcus announced. The three, in their emotional outburst, had forgotten the existence of Marcus and his aide standing right beside them. Marcus tapped his aide on the shoulder, and the well trained soldier ran back in the direction of the port.

"Marcus! Good," Edgar didn't have the time to be embarrassed. "If you would-"

Marcus held up a hand, cutting Edgar off. "Edgar, despite General Chere leaving you in charge of the defense, I will not let you order me around. My men have already begun the preparations to fly the Emperor's airship. Once we get that ship in the air, the Blackjack can dock and we can load the rest of the men." Marcus referred to the airship still in port. The Emperor had his airship landed close to the Statues while the Imperial Guard had landed further out. Because the Emperor had taken the only port close by, Setzer had dangerously hovered over the port while they jumped off. They had quickly captured the airship for their own and then proceeded to build the line of defense they had been holding for nearly an hour.

Unfortunately, Setzer could not dock. The Emperor's airship had to be searched for traps before she could be flown and the port cleared. That endeavor had taken quite a bit of time.

"Marcus, we're going after your General," Edgar said, his tone becoming ever-more irritated. They were wasting valuable time.

"You will not," Captain Marcus said with finality. "General Chere has given her final orders, retreat and safeguard your lives. Otherwise, she would not have bothered sending the Doma Knight back to us."

"Listen to me Marcus," Edgar threatened, "I will not-"

"No!" Marcus shouted. "This is not a discussion!" The Captain of an Imperial Special Forces Unit was obviously unused to discussion within the ranks. "While you have been mindlessly chatting away, you failed to notice the flags Michals has already put up!" His gloved hand pointed ahead.

Edgar gazed in the direction pointed. The color in his face drained as he saw the red flag flying; the monsters were back.

"Edgar!" Locke pointed in the direction where Terra once laid.

Edgar spun back around, watching in awe as a huge purple behemoth appeared out of the rocky plains. The ground had split open, and the giant monster floated up serenely, its blood red eyes staring in their direction. Its bulk enlarged the hole in the ground, rocks falling off the thick skin of the monster as the ground beneath tried to close.

The four men drew their weapons, realizing they could not allow such a dangerous monster to remain behind their defensive perimeter. The behemoth beasts were easily larger than even the Heavy Siege Magitek Armors. Nearly half the size of an airship, its huge horns and heavily muscled mass undermined the magical powers that lay within. The purple monster advanced on them, its four feet causing the ground to shake with every movement, on top of the trembling of the floating continent.

"Well, at least we know how Terra got back," Locke grumbled as they charged.

===

They returned to find the port in chaos. Wirey dragons hovered above and surrounded the airship. The small winged creatures gathered in numbers, grey wings blocking out the sky as they attempted to land and attack. Three of the Gigantos had made their way through the blockades. Those grey-skinned giants were the real problem. While the wirey dragons were easily handled by arrows, the thick skin of the giants made them almost impervious. Their sheer size and bulk was causing havoc as the monsters attempted to attack the Emperor's airship with massive clubs. Marcus' men tried to shoot the monsters down, but many were off-balance. The ground was shaking constantly now, and the truly skilled were engaging the giants in physical combat. Locke spied Gau fighting a Gigantos on his own; the young child easily maintained his balance in the face of a greater foe.

"They're attracted to the airship," Marcus grumbled.

"Locke, find Terra and make sure she can survive the jump. We'll wait for Setzer, Marcus, you should board-" Edgar commanded.

Marcus screamed a battle cry and charged at the nearest giant.

Edgar swore as he dived aside. A huge boulder, thrown by one of the giants, hammered past them. The King rolled to his feet, watching Cyan join the battle by Gau's side. Locke had already scrambled away. The thief was irritated and angry that they were not going after Celes, but the thought of Terra had quickly pushed the conflicting thoughts out of his mind.

Edgar pulled the camera out of his pack as he ran to the edge of the continent. It was disturbing to see the ground suddenly fall away into thin air, and Edgar was almost afraid that one of the smaller dragons would attack him. But the dragons remained concentrated around the airship, being blasted apart by the two Magitek armors.

The camera let loose a brilliant flash, powerful enough to shock anyone looking in its direction. Edgar hoped that Setzer would see the flash, and quickly set the camera to continue emitting light every few seconds.

The ground suddenly shook with renewed vigor, but Edgar had already known it was coming. Carbunkl warmed up before each tremble and allowed Edgar to balance himself.

He noticed he was not the only one that had realized the magicite could predict each of the earthquakes. Gau and Cyan each had let the sudden rumbling knock over the giants, and then pounced on the defenseless beasts.

But the last Gigantos had made its way through the few men that remained on the floating island. As per Marcus' orders, many had already boarded the Emperor's airship. The great giant roared, confident of his superiority while he stood on top of dead Imperial soldiers, and turned to next closest target:

Locke, carrying Terra on his back.

Even unburdened, Locke would never have escaped the grasp of the monster. It was no surprise that he lowered Terra swiftly and drew his knives. The dull black blades were deadly sharp but paled in comparison to the size of the threat he faced. Locke strode towards the beast without fear though: he had made a promise and it was time to fulfill it.

Their showdown was not to be, as a blur of dark metal stepped in front of Locke's path. It had moved faster than its size would suggest. The massive three-man tall Magitek Armor proved once again why the Imperial Army was the most deadly force in the world.

Magitek pilots were raised to defend their people from the monsters that constantly threatened their cities. This was no different; they were protecting civilians from harm. Though many Magitek pilots became obsessed with the power that they wielded, Marcus' men knew their limits. The Armor took a defensive stance. Its arms shot forward, the great claws piercing the Gigantos as the monster charged.

The giant screamed in pain. Blood pumped out of its chest wounds, but that did not stop it. The Gigantos dropped its great club and grabbed the machine by the shoulders. Muscles bulged and fresh blood spurted out as it tried to tear the arms off. The Magitek Armor fought back by cleaving its way through flesh and bone, steam being ejected from the sides as gears ground in effort. The All-Terrain Armor was the bread and butter of the Imperial war machine but despite bladed hands it was never meant to fight a monster in hand to hand combat.

The Armor was losing the battle, even though the giant was roaring from the pain of gaping wounds. The ground tore apart as the Magitek Armor's legs were pushed back against its will. Gears began to whine and groan as powerful engines strained to keep up to the demand that its pilot asked of it. But the pilot had already knew the result of such a melee and already planned ahead. From behind, a beam of fire ripped into the giant, the heat so intense that it seared the arm right off. The second Armor had repositioned itself at an angle, and immediately followed through with another controlled burst of blistering elemental magic.

Edgar made it back just in time to witness the giant collapse, the first Armor's claws still buried within its chest.

With a sudden roar, the airship began to rise. Propeller blades spun as the small ship rose into the air with its contingent of soldiers on it. Being so close to the airship, Edgar thought he was going to be blown off by the strong winds. With the ground shaking as well, the world seemed to be tearing apart.

The winds began to calm down as the airship gained altitude. Edgar turned back to what remained of the defensive line, wondering how many would be evacuated hastily on Setzer's airship. Marcus and Michals were still fighting beside Sabin, Gau and Cyan, and there were the two Magitek pilots remaining as well. But every other soldier had retreated on the Emperor's airship.

Which meant everything was now up to Setzer.

With the airship gone, the wirey dragons had flown off. And with another of the giants felled by Gau, the five warriors easily handled and slew the last Gigantos. The five men dashed back, knowing full well that the Floating Island was going to break apart at any instant.

"Edgar!" Locke screamed.

Edgar turned around to see Locke leading a dazed Terra. A look of relief touched his face. It looked like she had recovered, though her eyes seemed haunted and distant.

But the thief was not intending to draw attention to Terra. Instead, he was waving frantically in the air.

"Get down!" Locke screamed again.

After spending months fighting together, they had learned to simply trust each other's commands without pause. Edgar dived to the ground without a question, and just in time. A great dragon, one of the many they had seen the Imperial Air Force take apart, missed his head by inches. The speed of the green scaled monster carried it into the distance, wind and rocks following the wake of the giant beast.

The dragon turned back to Edgar, its eyes locked with the young king, as it landed on the shaky ground. Unlike its smaller wirey cousins, this one easily dwarfed even the behemoths in size. Built like a tank, green scales that were as strong as metal protected it. A mighty tail, as long as the body, waved menacingly in the air. Wings spread wide; the dragon opened its mouth and spewed forth a great column of fire. Edgar scrambled out of the way, feeling the flames lick at his back.

A beam of magic, blue this time, ripped into the dragon's right wing. The green scaled monster screamed in pain, its wings flapping despite the icy blaze that was freezing it to death. It turned to face the Magitek Armor, deadly breath meeting the controlled beam in gout of fire and ice. Elemental magic fused together in a lethal mix, fire and ice magic splattering on the ground like liquids. Yet the liquids reacted magically to the ground, the crust rupturing from the very contact.

As the Magitek Armor and dragon battled with magic, a green figure dashed towards the dragon unchallenged. Michals jumped onto the back of the dragon, his twin swords spread out for balance as the skilled soldier ran up the dragon like it was part of the ground. With practiced grace, the Lieutenant flipped over the dragon's head, landed and turned about. His twin swords tore into the dragon's vulnerable neck, red blood spraying as Michals sliced four times.

But even as the dragon began its death throes, Edgar could see that they were in far worse trouble than he had originally anticipated. He cursed loudly. Sabin and Marcus were attempting to handle one behemoth, while another of the accursed beasts charged towards them. This was simply becoming ridiculous; Edgar shook his head as despair took him. It was as if the monsters all were rushing towards them to--

Edgar scrambled to the top of a rock formation, a sudden feeling of dread washing over him. Pulling a pair of binoculars to his eyes, he looked back towards the Statues.

It walked towards them. As the continent continued to fall apart, earthquakes tearing entire sections of the ground away, the monster strolled towards them without a care in the world.

It looked like a grey dragon, but there were no wings. Instead, great golden spikes protected its back, and blue fiery hair danced on its head. The deadly glowing blue eyes were turned in their direction, for it knew that the men who had defeated it mere moments ago were still on the island.

Atma Weapon.

The wounds that they had dealt to the great beast could still be seen, even at this distance. But where once great rifts in flesh had been, blue flames burned brightly. It had stopped bleeding, even Atma Weapon would bleed when cut, and instead the flames closed the wounds while some sort of aura slowly regenerated the demonic flesh of the creature. That regeneration aura had nearly killed them when they first met Atma Weapon, moments after securing the Emperor's airship.

"Marcus, Sabin!" Edgar called out to those that were farthest away. Locke, Terra and Cyan had made their way as close to the edge of the island as they could. Gau was helping the fallen Magitek pilot, and they were quite close to port as well. Michals stood guard over the fallen dragon with the last Magitek armor behind him. But Sabin and Marcus were in the front, tearing apart a behemoth as they tried to keep the monsters far away from the port.

"Marcus!" Edgar screamed again, "ATMA!"

Those two syllables caught Marcus' attention. With fluid grace, Marcus ducked underneath the purple monster's claws and tore a crippling wound to its legs. Marcus turned to Sabin as he easily sidestepped a powerful blow. "You heard your brother!" he shouted.

Sabin nodded. They did not want to face Atma again. The last time had nearly been fatal, and they were well rested and far more prepared at the time.

The two warriors ran with all their strength from the dying behemoth.

===

"Well," Locke said as he helped Gau push the crippled Magitek armor, "this is just complete idiocy."

Gau moaned something unintelligible as the two men continued to strain themselves.

Davis Malsbury, the Magitek pilot, groaned as he finally squeezed his way from beneath the armor and monster. "Thanks," the weary soldier said, happy to be finally out of his prison.

"It's the least I could do," Locke sighed in relief as he let go of the Magitek armor. He wanted to sit down, as tired as he was, but knew they were still very much in danger. The island's rumblings had grown more and more violent, and the regular shaking was only serving to agitate the monsters nearby.

"Are you hurt? I don't think the Blackjack has the time to land," Locke glanced at Davis, concerned. The Imperial pilot had risked his life to save him when it was probably unnecessary. It wasn't the first time, both Magitek pilots had taken plenty of risks while they fought the Imperial Guard. Locke had stared down entire squadrons of charging soldiers only to witness their firey demise. He felt greatly indebted, even if it was to the brown uniform of the Empire. "It's probably going to be quite a jump, and we have enough injured already." Locke pointed at Terra and Cyan. Though the Doma knight acted otherwise, it was clear that he was quite wounded from being airborne and then buried beneath a landslide. The knight was resigned to defend Terra if all else went wrong, and Locke would ensure Cyan did not stand alone.

As for Terra, she had yet to speak. Though she was conscious again, something had shaken her to the very core.

"I'll be fine," Davis said. "The men will be jealous that I survived a melee with one of those giants and," the older pilot beamed, "it'll make a great story for my kids."

Locke flashed his signature smile. No one noticed how much it quivered.

The three hurried their way to Terra and Cyan. Though they were close to the edge of the continent, they had avoided straying too close. Many of the quakes had dislodged great chunks from the continent's periphery. No one was keen on falling to their death.

"Locke," Cyan turned towards him. "Art thou confident Sir Michals and Lady Siana will be safe?"

"Don't you worry about Siana," Davis answered. "Though she might not look like it, she's been piloting armors longer than I have."

Locke glanced over at Davis, an eyebrow raised. Pilot First-Class Davis Malsbury looked to be in his early forties, though the clean-shaven and unscarred warrior might have been older. However, the last time Locke looked over the luscious redhead in the cockpit of the second Magitek Armor, she looked as old as Terra or Celes.

"I can tell you don't believe me, but Siana's been piloting those things since," Davis paused. With the exception of Terra, everyone watched with a measure of envy as Siana's Magitek armor burned through another rampaging behemoth. Two quick beams had instantly taken out the legs of the gigantic purple monster. As the monster crashed to the ground, two more beams ripped into the bulk of the monster. The great beast screamed in pain as its flesh began to bubble and burst, red steam rising from the fiery discharge.

"As I said," Davis beamed as Siana turned the rampaging behemoth into a burning corpse. "She piloted that unit before Tzen joined the Empire. I was a mere grunt at the time."

Locke shrugged, "does that answer your question, Cyan?"

Cyan nodded. "I will retire to the edge. I have a feeling Setzer shall show up soon."

===

"Michals," Sabin gasped as he and Marcus reached the Lieutenant and the last Magitek armor.

Marcus grunted in pain, running in full plate had exhausted the soldier. "Lieutenant, ideas?" he asked as he caught his breath.

Michals was relaxed, his twin blades sheathed behind his back. "The Imperial Guard is in full retreat, I doubt even Nairne would be crazy enough to stay when this island is clearly going to fall apart. We should probably do the same," he responded. "Nairne is a fanatic but he's not an idiot."

Sabin glanced up at the Magitek armor, something was bothering him.

"And the men?" Marcus asked as the three of them began to jog back to the others. Behind them, they could hear the engines of the Magitek armor whine as it slowly backed up.

"Safe. We managed to arm most of the weapons that were mounted before they got into the air. Sergeant Arthal has experience flying those things, so there shouldn't be any problems," Michals said. "And I don't think the Air Force would fire at the Emperor's Airship, even if they suspected something. They don't have the balls."

"Good thinking," Marcus gave a quick nod of approval. He narrowed his eyes as he noticed the group ahead of them. "Where's the King? He warned us about Atma and then disappeared."

"Atma?" Michals asked. "We can't afford another battle with it."

The three men reached the group now, Terra, Locke, Gau and Davis. They looked around, the port was eerily empty. Aside from the rumbling of the ground, the looming danger of the ground falling away, the port was quiet and safe.

"Where's the Blackjack?" Marcus asked.

Locke shrugged and Davis shook his head. Terra seemed distant, and Gau was... well, doing something, Marcus couldn't quite figure out what the lad was doing to the ground. Marcus ignored the four and scanned the port, realizing that if the gambler didn't show up, they would all die when the island crashed... if Atma didn't kill them first.

As if to calm Marcus' unspoken worries, Edgar shouted. "Over here!"

Edgar was at the edge of the floating landmass, Cyan at his side and looking quite disturbed. They leaned dangerously over the island, staring below.

===

Setzer Gabbiani glanced to the portside, squeamish about being so close to the floating island. The port had been out of the question, the island was simply too unstable for him to land with any degree of reliability. The airship pilot and accomplished gambler felt a bead of sweat run down his back. This was as close as he could get without risking everyone's lives.

He looked upwards. "That's it!" he shouted.

"That's it?" came the reply. It was the thief's voice, as irritating as ever.

Setzer ignored him and hit the levers to steady the airship's rise. "Any higher and you won't make it!" he screamed.

"This is utter insanity!" Strago Magus, the elder mage and lore-master, strolled to the bridge. "Having them jump such a distance will kill them!"

"They're not as old as you," Setzer snapped. "And if we tried to land, we might all be stuck on that infernal island right now. I might be the best, but I can't land on that shaking island with any guarantees."

Strago mumbled something under his breath as he walked back to his position at the stern of the ship.

===

Edgar landed as well as he could. After all, he was an accomplished warrior. He had faced many dangers, and jumping great heights was not something that he would back away from. And he was merely three hundred pounds of man and metal diving down through a pitiful twenty meters of open sky. Landing well was absolutely no trouble at all.

He smashed onto the deck, shoulder first, and rolled until he crashed into one of the supporting pillars.

Edgar moaned in pain as he tried to stand. He collapsed back into the heap of broken planks that marked his landing spot, a sudden burst of pain erupting in his legs. He had definitely hurt himself that time, and counted himself lucky that he had not broken any bones.

Cyan was next, the Doma knight casually considering the events of the day as he leaped. After all, this would be the second time in the day that he had flown like a bird. Except this time, it was under his own power.

Experience where it mattered, the older warrior landed considerably better than the King. Cyan still broke into the deck shoulder first, but he managed not to roll into anything.

"What are you trying to do, smash a hole through my ship?" Setzer snapped at them.

Edgar cursed creatively about Setzer's romantic intentions before he finally stood up. "You try jumping that distance!" he shouted.

Davis and Michals were next. Both had watched the men before them. Both improved on the time-honored technique of hurling oneself through open air without any consideration for the landing.

With two more piles of broken planks, a broken propeller and even some damaged rigging, Setzer wondered which would do more damage: landing the ship on an island that was breaking apart, or letting these monsters on board.

To Marcus' credit, the Captain landed far better than any of the men before him. He was totally unhurt, and did not break Setzer's airship anymore so. The Captain landed on two feet, rolled, and smashed into a rapidly recovering Edgar.

As the two men began cursing each other, moments short of a fist fight, Terra and Locke landed on the airship without any incident. The thief had cleverly spelled himself and Terra. They had floated through the air; Terra blindly led by Locke, and touched down on the deck beside Relm. Locke even knelt down, patted Strago's granddaughter on the head, before shaking his index finger side-to-side at Edgar and Marcus.

Michals picked himself off the ground and made his way to Setzer. "There should be three more, everyone else left on other ship," he said. "After them, we should make best haste to Albrook."

Setzer turned his black eyes at the green armored Lieutenant. "Albrook is back south, in the direction of the IAF. We're not going back there."

"But-" Michals began.

Setzer shook his head. "Unlike your men, we are not flying the Emperor's personal airship. We're not getting back through the blockade without some serious artillery."

"What could the Imperial Air Force still field? Between what we annihilated on the way in, and the number called back to the Vector airfields, I can't see anything being powerful enough to take care of this ship. Especially not with the speed you demonstrated earlier," Michals said.

"Listen, there's three airships circling the island from above, and they're all looking for us," Setzer pointed upwards. "It'll be difficult enough to outrun them without having to deal with the southern fleet."

"Three airships?"

Setzer turned around, recognizing the Magitek pilot instantly. It had been quite the challenge to fit both Magitek units onto his airship. He had worked closely with both pilots to ensure no unnecessary damages. They were both quite friendly and resourceful.

"That's right Davis, three of them," Setzer turned back to Michals. "And that's why I'll be taking us directly north, with all intentions of getting back to Figaro before the IAF comes after us. Even they will think twice before crossing the ocean."

Michals nodded in understanding. "Alright, but just keep in mind that the Imperial Air Force doesn't operate under standard policy. They get orders direct from the Emperor and-"

"I know that!" Setzer interrupted the Special Forces soldier. "You think I've lived this long flying an airship without knowing how the IAF works? I'm telling you right now this is the only way we'll live!"

"Very well," Michals left Setzer to his own devices, but Davis stayed behind and whispered in awe. "Incredible, you were flying around with three airships on your tail? How did you survive for this long?"

"Ingenuity, skillful piloting, good looks," Setzer flashed a dashing smile.

"Yeah, and having a mage that could set fire to the decks of your enemy couldn't have helped, could it?" Strago asked.

Before Setzer could respond, Marcus cut him off.

Marcus, finally separated from Edgar by Cyan, had asked the obvious.

"What's taking them so long?"

===

Sabin dived, pushing Siana out of the way. The strange monster missed, its claws swiping at thin air as it reoriented itself. Standing on one leg, the clown-like monster grinned at them. It looked like a starved circus performer, scrawny with its skin colored by paint. Its right half was red, its left white. A hideous mask covered its face, hiding all but the aggravating grin.

"Nerapa thinks Lord Atma will like these," it said.

Sabin put himself between the monster, Nerapa as it called itself, and Siana. The Magitek pilot had just dismounted when the monster had struck them. Sabin had stayed behind when he realized that they were not going to be able to load the armor back onto the airship. That was fortunate, as he had managed to save the red haired soldier before she was ripped apart by the clown. When he had tried to attack the monster, the thing jumped around him and had tried to strike Siana again.

Nerapa twisted, bending backwards in an inhuman fashion.

"I hate clowns," Sabin mumbled as he watched the monster continue to hop around on one leg in a rhythmic, mesmerizing pattern.

It suddenly shot forward, its entire body coiling like a viper.

It was fast, but Sabin was faster. The martial artist nailed the monster in the side with a spinning kick, sending the lightweight clown flying backwards.

"Siana, get on the airship!" he shouted. He was keeping his eyes on the clown, but spared a quick look back to ensure that the Magitek pilot was running. Knowing that she was too far for Nerapa to strike easily, Sabin concentrated on crippling the monster.

But as Nerapa stood back up on one leg, Gau struck. The beast child tore at the clown savagely, a strange mix of martial prowess and primal instinct, before the monster simply overpowered Gau and sent him backwards into the air.

Yet Gau landed on both feet, flipping over in the air like a cat. Sabin did not join the melee, knowing that he might cause injury to Gau. And... it seemed that the kid was actually doing quite well on his own.

Nerapa hopped towards the beast child, again in a rhythmic, one-legged fashion. Gau merely stood his ground, watching...

The monster coiled out, lashing quickly as it had before against Sabin. Only this time, it did not bend backwards. It intended to surprise its opponent.

Gau stepped to the side, a wild grin on his face as he raised one leg like the monster. He bent backwards as well, to Sabin's utter dismay, and shot forward. The young child landed a number of blows to the mask of the clown. The clown screamed in pain as fell to the ground. Gau continued landing blows on the fallen monster, but Nerapa recovered quickly. With a leg and an arm, it struck Gau in the stomach. It flipped upside-down, maintaining its balance on one hand, and sent Gau backwards with a single powerful roundhouse kick. It flipped back onto its feet, satisfied with the last blow.

Sabin charged forwards, nailing Nerapa in the leg before punching the clown in the face. The mask was hard, but nothing compared to behemoth's thick skin. And Sabin had used all his strength, along with his momentum.

Nerapa fell to the ground, stunned momentarily.

Without a second thought, Sabin turned around and ran. He grabbed Gau with one hand, picking the child up by the skins he wore, and simply ran as fast as he could to the edge of the island.

In front of him, Siana stared into the space that she was to jump. It seemed quite impossible, and she felt nauseous just looking over the cliff. The airship was a long way down, and the deck seemed awfully small considering all the open sky around it.

Sabin picked up the red haired pilot with his other hand and threw her onto his shoulder as he had done with Gau. With both child and pilot, one on each shoulder, the mighty warrior leaped into the air.

The three flew into the blue sky, carried solely by Sabin's momentum. Siana had quickly gone from screaming at Sabin to let go, to screaming at him to hold tight. One look below him, and Gau also held on for dear life. "Mr. Thou!" he screamed.

Locke watched as Sabin landed on both feet. Edgar's brother cracked the deck as he landed, but remained upright. He let go of Gau and Siana, Gau falling onto the floor, while Siana was still holding onto Sabin for her life. Both were completely scared out of their minds.

"You--" Locke pointed at Sabin.

Sabin glanced over at Locke, and then over to the broken planks that marked landing sites for everyone else. He looked at his brother, who was still covered in splinters from the wooden columns he had smashed into, and then to Davis, Michals, Cyan and Marcus.

Sabin laughed.

===

The Blackjack sped away from the island as it collapsed. Its flight path, previously floating above Vector, had deteriorated and was now headed north.

Which was perfect for Setzer. They sped away in safety, the island blocking the southern Imperial fleet's view, as Strago and Relm once again proved their skill with magic.

The Imperial Air Force had always had its own airships for military use. A well-kept secret, only a few had knowledge that the Air Force actually had functional ships. It was public knowledge that the Empire had built airship engines, Vector's electrical generators were based off the same concepts. But actual flying ships were unknown to many. The reason was two-fold. Despite having access, it was rare for top-ranked commanders to use airships in warfare. They were too expensive to waste transporting a pitiful number of men across the ocean, so most of the armed forces had never seen the airforce in action. This lead to their use in the secretive Special Forces. Outfitted with weapons that rivaled those defending the Magitek factory in Vector, they were capable of minor bombing tasks, quick hit and run attacks on terribly outmatched opponents, or expediently delivering soldiers in insertion and extraction missions.

They never expected to be fighting another airship though. And certainly not an airship with accomplished descendants of Mage Warriors on board.

Strago and Relm unleashed a chaotic explosion, the two working in tandem as they cast spell after spell at their pursuers. To the commoner, it would have looked like a rainbow of colors from one ship showering three others behind them.

The airship captains flew erratically, never prepared for a war of magic. The Blackjack was well out of range of their mounted cannons, and the Imperial Air Force did not have Magitek Knights aboard.

Setzer screamed orders without bothering to tear his eyes from the displays in front of the wheel. Much like their flight towards the island, the Blackjack was pushed to her limits. Unlike their flight in, they did not have the safety of commandeered Sky Armors around them. Of course, they were also far faster now, since they were not carrying a company of soldiers and two Magitek Armors.

Still, Setzer screamed orders to simply keep the ship going as fast as it was. Relm and Strago cast spells until they tired themselves out, and even then they continued.

But it was not enough.

Spitfire Sky Armors, twin propeller aircraft with little in the way of artillery, caught up with the Blackjack. The few that escaped the blasts of magic that Strago laid down jumped onto the deck of the Blackjack. They could see that the mages could easily destroy their Sky Armors and chose to fight on foot instead.

However, those men were torn apart wherever they landed. Sabin, Marcus and Michals positioned themselves well; the capable warriors more than a match for pilots turned foot soldiers. They fended off with ease whatever the IAF attempted.

===

Under the deck, Locke held Terra's hands. Her blue eyes were still distant, and that made Locke more than a little worried.

Siana Deardon was also there. Unlike Davis, she had no experience with airship engines. She had tried to help Edgar, but the King told her to rest instead.

"What happened to her?" Siana asked.

Locke shook his head. "I don't know. She's been like this for a while now and I'm almost certain that the Statues have something to do with it." He felt powerless, he had promised to protect Terra and he could do nothing now. He should have gone with them to face Gestahl. Edgar had been adamant that they couldn't afford to let anyone else other than Cyan go with Terra and Celes. Locke gritted his teeth. He had allowed himself to be swayed by Edgar's smooth words. Against an old man and a crazy clown, three to two odds were great compared to the twenty to one odds they had faced against the Imperial Guard. Locke shook his head. He shouldn't have listened to Edgar. He had failed her again.

"She's half-esper, anything to do with the statues would affect her before it would affect us," Siana agreed. The red haired pilot had been told about the statues, nearly all of Marcus' men had been told. After all, they had the right to know what the Emperor had intended to do. They had to make the choice for themselves: whether to follow the Emperor, or their former General.

Locke wondered about Celes, and whether she was alright. The Floating Continent was breaking apart as it fell, the magic holding it in the sky slowly losing its grip. He swore at the helplessness of his situation. First Edgar had stopped him from protecting Terra and Celes when they needed him, then Marcus had delayed until they were forced to abandon Celes to the island. His fists were shaking from uncontrollable anger.

"The statues-"

Terra's hands suddenly gripped his, the shock causing Locke to grimace in pain. Her eyes went wide, shock replacing the emotionless look that had been on her face for so long now.

"Locke, the statues," she said.

"What about them?" Locke asked, the rage boiling inside forgotten in an instant as he watched Terra eyes refocus.

"The statues, they're resonat-" Terra let go of Locke's hands, clutching at her ears as she closed her eyes in pain.

Locke narrowed his eyes. "Terra?"

Terra closed her eyes, tears welling up as she rocked in her seat. She hunched over, her long hair cascading off her shoulders to hide her face. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

"Terra!" Locke grabbed at her arm, concerned at her sudden lapse.

"The statues..." Terra said as she collapsed against him, so intent on keeping the noise from reaching her ears. "They're... in pain."

"In pain?" Locke echoed.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes wide open.

The fine hairs on the back of Locke's neck rose.

Terra was bleeding; from the ears, from the eyes. Locke was simply scared by the look on her face. A look of torture and agony, her eyes were driven wild by the pain that only she could feel.

"The world is going to end," she whispered hoarsely.

===

Relm saw it first.

A beam of light, bright white, erupted from the Floating Continent. The light hit the ground, raking along the earth. It tore apart the surface and left a trail of angry red magma. A huge fireball followed the trail and grew ever larger, bright yellow flames devouring everything that the light had missed.

And another.

They stared in shock as beam after beam tore across the land in every direction. At first there had only been one. Then a second appeared, lancing out in another direction. Before their brilliance faded, dozens shot from the island in every direction. Blazing white light projected from the center of the Floating Continent, tearing it apart as they shot outwards. What little they could see of the light was more than enough to scare them.

Where the light hit, the very ground was annihilated. Like the floating continent, the land that the light destroyed did not merely rupture on contact. It tore apart with the force of hundreds of explosions. The land seemed to ripple and break, great chasms opening. Rifts in the land spewed out the fires beneath. Red streams of molten lava that erupted forth added to the infernos that followed each brilliant display. The world spewed forth its lifeblood, trails of black smoke and dust rising from opened wounds.

Each successive blast of magic -- no one pretended it was anything else -- seemed to grow more destructive, more apocalyptic. One shot directly underneath the floating landmass, the ground beneath instantly disintegrated as a fireball -- a glowing ball of deadly gas -- was released from the explosion. The fireball consumed everything around it, quickly expanding while it grew brighter than the Sun. It was one of many tiny stars that had suddenly been born that day.

Towards the south and beyond the Kavanagh Mountains -- where the initial beam of light had struck -- was the first fireball. It had cooled while it expanded and rose; losing enough of its glow so their naked eyes could watch without pain. Smoke and dust had been dragged into the sky and formed an unnatural mushroom cloud. The cloud continued to cool, its color gradually turning white as it formed layer upon layer of overlapping cloud cover. Rain began to fall from the sky, a deadly black cascade of water that dragged down with it poisonous dust and debris from the initial explosions.

"The Goddesses protect us," Strago whispered. "The world is dying."

Edgar realized he was holding his breath. The black rain could be seen from their position, so far away that the Kavanagh Mountains were dots on the horizon. It was the most frightening thing he had ever seen, and nothing in his education could explain any of the things he was seeing now. None of the blasts of light that were still scattering from the midst of a huge black cloud -- the floating island's remains, though Edgar doubted it was still floating -- caught his attention like the darkness that fell upon the lands.

Then a beam of light came towards them.

Relm screamed while Edgar stood in shock, both watching the light thunder towards them. Setzer was still concentrating on his airship, pushing the Blackjack's engines so that they could escape the Imperial Air Force. Marcus, Michals and Sabin were too well trained to stare at the destruction behind them. They had been in motion the whole time, though that would never have saved them.

The beam missed, by quite a wide margin, and instead swept across the mountains before them.

Edgar watched in awe as the mountains exploded, great balls of fire erupting from the lands before them. The mountain peaks were cleaved from their foundations, great precipices of rock crashing into the pyres below. Another glowing fireball rose into the air and lit up the blackening sky. Yet another mushroom cloud in its infancy, but surrounded by a massive screen of smoke that expanded.

Then he realized it was not smoke, but what had been blown off the ground.

Dirt, gravel, trees, boulders, it did not matter. Debris rose in a giant wall before them, traveling faster than any airship. A blast wave of highly compressed and fast moving air that carried with it the surface of a forest.

Edgar dived towards Relm, his thoughts only of protecting the child from the apocalypse.

The airship rocked in the sudden gust, Edgar smashing against yet another pillar. He screamed in pain, but could barely hear himself speak. The winds ripped into the airship, his stomach lurching as the deck twisted and turned. He thought he dimly heard Setzer screaming in the great gusts, but could make out no words. Instead, he concentrated all his power in remaining on the deck of the airship, the winds trying to tear him off and send him flying into the skies.

Edgar held Relm close to the deck as the gusts of wind ripped by. He could hear nothing but the rushing winds, and saw nothing but a brown haze. He kept his eyes closed; the winds stung his eyes every time he attempted to figure out his surroundings. He lost track of how many times the airship spun, his stomach twisting and turning as they flew through the screaming cries of a dying world.

And then everything cleared up.

The ringing in his ears continued, but the winds died down. The airship's floor returned leveled off. Edgar got to his feet, looking around in wonder.

They had survived.

Edgar grinned, somehow, they had survived.

And then he realized that Setzer was still screaming. Edgar looked around, noticing that Marcus and Michals had thrown themselves close to the bridge, taking advantage of the instrument panels to break the winds and save themselves. Sabin was on the ground, one hand firmly holding onto a pillar, the other holding onto Strago.

It was a lucky coincidence that everyone else had gone below.

That was when Edgar realized Setzer was still screaming orders, and that the airship, though it seemed calm, was not calm at all. It was calmer than when the winds had threatened to tear him from the Blackjack's deck, but the airship was still rumbling.

The ringing in his ears died down, and Setzer's mouth suddenly formed real words.

"I can't stabilize the altitude!" Setzer screamed.

Edgar looked up, noticing the huge hole in the airship's wedge-shaped balloon. Black smoke bellowed from the horrendous wound, leaving a trail behind them as they sped towards their impeding doom. His eyes opened wide, a shock of fear paralyzing him where he stood.

"We're going to crash!" Setzer screamed.

The airship streaked past the huge crater where mountains had been moments before, going hundreds of times faster than it was safe to travel at such a low altitude. They had crashed once before, Edgar had been flying the Blackjack, but this time was different. The engines were still pushed to the limits, straining to outrun airships that no longer chased them.

Setzer was a skilled pilot, deftly winding his way through the mountain range despite the incredible speed and lack of lift. The gambler, long white hair flying freely behind him, spun the wheel and continued screaming orders that were not being followed.

But no matter how good Setzer was, he was merely delaying the inevitable. And as the forests beneath them loomed up, Setzer could do no more for his airship.

The Blackjack clipped a great pine, its speed so great that it tore the tree out of the ground. But as the ship spun from the impact, tearing more trees with it, its momentum was used up. The Blackjack smashed into an unyielding wall of pine and spiraled to the ground.

Edgar no longer thought about protecting Relm. There was no time.

As the airship broke upon the ground, Edgar felt the deck disappear beneath him. He looked forward in dread, unable to avoid the unavoidable.

The ground broke his fall. The pain that accompanied it only lasted a moment, but it was a moment of such intensity that it felt like an eternity. The agony of a thousand battle wounds, compressed into a single sliver of time. Flesh and bone meeting cold, rigid rock. It was the shock of searing torture that ripped through his body, taking the breath from his lungs. Fire burned through every inch, every muscle in his body felt like it was being pulled apart.

His world went black.

[Darth Raptor]

Very nice, and you're right; you needn't have completed FFVI in order to be able to follow and appreciate this. I know this can be somewhat tricky to do now and then.

You're BBCode tags are disabled, BTW.

[LadyTevar]

Woah. That was intense!

[Elessar]

Thanks for reviews, both Darth Raptor and LadyTevar.

In light of comments about stuff being posted to FF.net being generally ignored... I'm going to start cross-posting my edited copy here. >.>

The Second Chapter - The Long Night

He couldn't breathe.

The fumes and the smell was absolutely horrid. Thick black smoke made it impossible for him to take a breath; he was literally choking on the ashes in the air. There wasn't much time and if Relm was in the house, he had to save her. After all, Terra-

Terra. The name was like a bolt of lightning, shocking Locke back into reality. The thief's eyes snapped wide open, only to quickly close as the fumes stung his eyes. His memory slowly cleared up... This was not Thamasa. The ceiling of a house did not just cave in on him. He was not trying to save Relm from being devoured in the magical inferno.

Hell, they weren't in Thamasa at all. He tried laughed at his own stupidity, but the deadly fumes denied him even that.

Locke tried to move, but couldn't. His legs, he couldn't feel them at all. His arms felt like cardboard left out in the rain, weak and completely useless. He opened his eyes, trying to get a bearing on his surroundings, but all he saw was smoke. Locke narrowed his eyes and made out the scorching inferno beyond; a red haze of flickering flames that licked at the innards of the airship, devouring everything and spewing forth thick knots of black smoke... but there was no sign of Terra. Attempting to cry out her name, he coughed uncontrollably instead; his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

Locke's eyes watered from the pain as he searched for any sign of Terra, threatening to close against his will. Locke could barely see that his legs were trapped beneath debris. Debris that had yet to catch on fire, but...

Great, Locke thought. Again he was trapped underneath what would soon be firewood, except this time he did not have a Cane of Ice from Strago's home.

The thief twisted around, trying to get on his back. His arms burned in effort as he attempted the most difficult push-up of his life. If he could just get some wiggle room, it might be possible to-

Locke screamed out in pain.

Curses flowed freely despite his lack of air. The prison of broken lumber that encased his legs had collapsed even further. He could feel splinters digging into his ankles and opening fresh wounds. Warm blood was dripping down his legs and the world was beginning to spin dizzily. Locke collapsed back onto his stomach, his arms spent from the attempt. Tears ran down his cheeks, his eyes too watery for him to clearly see anything at all.

"Terra," he gasped with the remainder of his energy. I'm sorry, -- even his voice had failed him now -- I couldn't keep my promise.

As he lay dying in the ruins of the Blackjack, his thoughts wandered back to forbidden memories. Tears of sorrow welled up in his eyes as he relived that fateful day in Mt. Kolts.

"Rachel. I failed you..."

Anger rushed through his veins. He would not die like this. He would not fail again. He had made a promise, and even if he had to fight his way through the entire Imperial Army, he would keep his word. Half-blind? Unable to move his arms or legs? Too helpless to merely get out from under some mere dead trees? That was not enough to stop him!

Locke gritted his teeth as he felt renewed vigor rush through his veins. His arms pushed against the floor, muscles feeling like they would simply rip apart as he gave it his all.

Whatever had been digging into his leg drove harder into his feet. Locke would have cried out in pain, but he was simply too numb to care anymore.

He would not die. Not here. Not yet. He had too much to atone for.

-=-

Sabin collapsed on the ground, drawing the attention of Cyan and Relm. The Doma Knight quietly told Relm to continue her work and went to Sabin's aid.

Sabin was burned badly. His blond hair was charred and much of his tanned body reddened from the fires of the airship. Patches of his skin were blackened and leathery. Other parts of his body were blistered and chafed. The warrior had gone back into the inferno against their advice, and it looked like he had tested and exceeded the limits of his strength.

But he had dragged out an unconscious Davis.

Cyan dropped to his knees and examined the Magitek pilot. His leather armor was mostly burned to ash, with much of his skin red and swollen. Blisters were everywhere and like Sabin, some of his skin had turned black and leathery. Dried blood masked the entire right half of his face.

For the old Doma Knight, it was nothing new. He had seen injuries like this all his life. Fire was always a heartless murderer.

Cyan was silent, his fingers moving as he worked to alleviate familiar wounds. He ripped off pieces of his tunic and tried to clean off Davis' face as much as he could. The pilot had a pulse and he was still breathing. Those were good signs, Cyan thought. The irony of the situation was lost on him though. After all, he had treated many of his countrymen in the same manner during the war with the Empire, and now he was treating an Imperial pilot.

A cry of relief brought Cyan's head up. Relm and Terra were both standing with their hands out, a soft blue glow surrounding them, as sparkles of magic showered the airship. The fires shrank from the blue flashes, and then quickly died with hardly a puff of smoke.

At least that was something that finally worked. Relm and Terra had been trying to put out the fire with their magic for sometime now, Cyan couldn't remember how long. They had worked tediously after Relm had regained consciousness.

Cyan was still torn inside, frightened at the prospect of such a young child involved with their affairs. Fortunately, Relm had only bumped her head. She had been lucky. If she had died, he didn't know how he would deal with it.

Terra ran up to Cyan, her jacket in tattered pieces but covering the grievous wound across her back. Her eyes were red from the strain, and she looked like she was ready to collapse as Sabin had. To her credit, she remained upright.

"I can do more for him than you can," Terra said. "Please... the airship..." Her voice had regained some of its strength and she had stopped crying.

Cyan nodded in agreement as his hands lowered Davis' head back to the ground. He was careful, unlike Sabin, and made sure Davis was lying on the ground in a comfortable manner. He turned to the remains of the airship as Terra tended to the injured pilot.

The Blackjack was broken in two. It had splintered on impact and nearly killed them all. Much of it was unrecognizable now, a pile of smoking rubble that could barely be perceived as anything more than firewood.

And still in the debris were their friends.

"I'll help."

Cyan turned to the side. It was Edgar. Cyan took note of the King's right arm hanging uselessly in a makeshift sling.

Edgar looked terrible. Gone was the regal aura that accompanied him. His heavy armor had been left on the ground, broken in many pieces, and he wore a dirty bloodstained shirt. His blue cape was gone, having been removed to cushion Relm while she was unconscious. Dark shadows lined the creases on his face, creases from stress unbefitting to one so young. Although he kept his tall stature, he was a shadow of his former self.

Siana and Terra had saved Edgar's life; a combination of experienced first-aid and powerful magic kept the King from dying due to his concussion and internal bleeding. Terra's ability to heal others had been taxed this day, and it was fortunate that Siana could dress battle wounds in her sleep. The pilot had even created the sling for Edgar's arm, fashioned out of clothes in their packs.

Cyan noticed Siana trying to bandage Sabin's burns. The burned martial artist scowled as the Imperial pilot applied ointment to his skin.

"She'll do a good job, and he's my brother," Edgar said as he noticed Cyan's distraction. "He won't die," he said it like a statement of fact.

Cyan nodded, his slow motions betraying his fatigue, and made his way to the airship.

-=-

They gave up two hours later. It was close to dusk by the time, and the heavily clouded skies made it a nightmare to see. Dark, thick clouds had swarmed overhead, blocking out the sun and added to the shade that the forest canopy provided. As dusk approached, it was simply too difficult to search the debris without at least torches, and even then, the flickering light was dangerous to health and safety. That didn't take into account the constant rumblings of the ground, like distant earthquakes, that threatened their balance and felled a few trees every few minutes.

A small campfire burned. The paltry flames provided light and warmth, but it was little comfort to the few that gathered around it. They had not yet left the crash site and instead made themselves as comfortable as they could near the smoking wreck. The shadows danced in the flickering light beneath the forest canopy where they made shelter for the night. They were a gathering of tired adventurers, drained and exhausted, drowning in their shared sorrows.

Off to the side of the camp was a single tired soul, her green ponytail undone in such a manner to hide the bloodied wounds on her neck and back. Her hands hovered over the head of a child, sparkling white magic dancing from her fingertips in vain.

Terra closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek as she gave up. She felt the still-uncomfortable sensation of reverting from her Esper-form. The lifeless body in her lap rolled to the side, long since dead.

It had been a hopeless task: to try to save his life. She should have given up a long time ago, as exhausted as she was. Even tranforming had done nothing. Her Esper-form had never been any more skilled at healing.

She didn't know how long she sat there, the wisp of a spell still glowing on her fingers. But the sound of footsteps eventually brought her head around.

Cyan said nothing as he helped Terra up. The two walked back to the fire. Only Locke glanced up, the only one of them that still had any hope remaining. But the thief saw the look on Terra's face and knew immediately.

Cyan and Edgar had found Locke alive in the wreckage, after somehow crawling his way underneath one of blackjack tables that Setzer had owned. He had been unconscious at the time, but aside from small wounds he had survived. It was a small miracle; neither Cyan nor Edgar could imagine how Locke had managed to avoid being crushed when the airship collapsed. According to what Terra and Siana had told them, the two women had been thrown clear to one side, while Locke had been thrown to the other. The airship had the splintered in two and collapsed, with Locke trapped in the worse of the fragments.

Terra tried to sit down, but ended up simply falling to her knees. Her shoulders shook -- not from the rumbling as another earthquake seemed to pass -- as she struggled to keep her composure.

"It's not your fault," Locke managed to say. Even with a half-injured leg, Locke had made his way beside Terra. His hands were on her shoulders, trying to reassure her.

Even Edgar was silent. He had a look in his face that Locke had never seen in all the time he had known the King. As Returners, they had been through worse. The Empire had never been kind dealing with strife, much less a group that was outright rebellious. Many friends had been lost to the Imperial Army.

They stared at the fire lifelessly. The flickering light showed the looks of despair and pain on each face for a moment before moving on to the next.

Michals was dead. The Lieutenant had been thrown clear of the crash, like Edgar, but had landed on his back. They had found him before the fires of the airship had begun to burn with incredible intensity. Two trees had broken his fall, and his body had been found underneath both fallen trunks.

He was Terra's first patient, before the fires devouring the airship had been put out. Terra had tried to heal the soldier's body, knitting broken bones together and tying flesh back to where it belonged.

He was Terra's first failure.

Terra had cried as Michals thanked her for everything. She had cried as Michals lost his voice, and could only squeeze her hand in reassurance. She had cried as she watched the life disappear from his clear blue eyes.

It marked the beginning of the worst day of her life.

For Siana and Sabin, watching Davis slip away had been beyond painful. Sabin had nearly gotten himself killed to save the pilot buried beneath the bowels of the airship. Davis had been in the engine room giving Setzer the speed he had needed. He was in the engine room when they hit the ground, nearest where the fires began.

And Sabin had pulled him out. Sabin had braved the inferno and personally carried the pilot out -- The martial-artist, ever the aspiring hero.

Davis was equally heroic. He had been burned alive, but refused to die. His skin had turned black and leathery, blood seeping from crisped skin, but he had stayed alive. Yet they could do nothing, even as Terra attempted with all her magic, to save his life.

Davis never even regained consciousness to witness their efforts. His heart had given out -- hours later than they had expected -- and Davis took his last breath in the arms of a teary half-esper.

Minutes later, they found Setzer buried beneath the pillars of the airship. On the bridge until the last moment, Setzer had still been at the wheel when his ship snapped in half. He had still been at the wheel as the forest fell around them. And finally, Setzer was knocked unconscious by pieces of the airship he had tried to save.

Perhaps it was because Setzer still breathed. Perhaps it was because his heart did not simply give out like Davis' had. Perhaps that had given Terra a small sliver of hope. The half-Esper was the only one of them that knew how to cast healing spells and she had tried her best to save everyone.

Setzer did not move. He had not yet woken from the grievous blow to his head and, like Davis, he had been burned quite badly by the fires. But he still breathed.

Yes, it had to be Setzer that had lifted Terra's spirits, even for a short while.

At least, until they had found Strago.

The old man was luckier than most, found underneath a pile of rubble untouched by the fires. Relm had cried seeing her grandfather injured so. She and Cyan had done their best to remove the old man without injuring him further. Though Relm was unpracticed, she and Terra combined their abilities and had somewhat stabilized Strago. Like Setzer, he had yet to regain consciousness. Although Relm needed the reassurance that her grandfather would be alright, they could give none. If the old man slipped away like Davis, well...

They had yet to find Marcus' arm.

Relm and Siana had been looking for a certain plant in the forest shortly after they stabilized Strago. They had found the Captain's body, quite far away from the airship.

He was worse off than anyone else, one leg broken and bleeding heavily from wounds in his chest. His armor was plastered with dried blood, and what little could be done for Marcus was not enough. He remained breathing, but with the extent of his injuries, it was doubtful that he would live through the night.

The last to be found was Gau. The young beast child had been in the engine room as well. Sabin had never seen Gau though, as he had been safely imprisoned beneath fire-resistant canopy that was to be used in case of engine fire. The same thing that had kept Gau from being burned alive had kept him from being rescued.

The young child, no more than thirteen, had suffered a massive concussion to the head. His arm had been broken, and he was suffering from blood loss when Cyan and Edgar found him.

Terra had tried her best, taxed far beyond her limits, to save the child. She had tried for the last two hours, watching Gau fade farther and farther away.

It had been hopeless, she knew. She should have given up, but how could she? He was barely thirteen.

Tears wet her lap. Terra had thought she could cry no more, but as she thought of Gau they welled up uncontrollably.

The small group was silent, surrounded in a lonely forest without as much as a whisper of life. The only noise was the sound of one green haired woman sobbing for her lost friends.

-=-

No one knew how long they watched the fire burn. But at some point after the distant quakes had quieted, Sabin stood up and dug his way through the supplies they had rescued from the airship. They had found a couple packs that had been salvageable, and amongst the supplies, the martial artist found a shovel.

For a long time they sat watching a small fire gradually die down. The sound of Sabin, shoveling alone, would be heard. His grunts of effort, despite the horrendous burns across his body, echoed in the dark forest.

Cyan joined and then shortly afterwards, Locke as well. The three men said nothing to each other but worked together without coordination. They dug from the ground, sharing the two shovels, and expected nothing from those around the fire.

Relm was fast asleep, falling unconscious beside a burned out Terra. The child had used her magic to the point of complete mental fatigue. Working alongside Terra, the two had exhausted their abilities and barely had the strength to move.

Edgar stared into the fire, deep in thought. He did not go to help; his broken arm would only get in the way. But he wanted to do something, anything, to take his mind off the thoughts of their dead friends. He noticed Siana was still tending to the injured: Setzer, Strago, and Marcus.

"My lady, you should get some rest," Edgar said as he approached the Imperial pilot. Siana was about the same age as Terra, Edgar was concerned that she was working herself into an early grave.

Siana did not take her eyes off of Marcus as she gently cleaned off his chest with a cotton rag. "The dirt in these cuts has to be removed or else they'll cause infections," she said plainly.

There was an edge in her voice that Edgar assumed was due to exhaustion. Deciding to be a bit more diplomatic, his voice took on a warm and friendly tone, "you'll do more harm than good when tired; one mistake and you'll just-"

"Then stop harassing me," she interrupted him rudely.

Edgar frowned. It was an undeserved snub, but he let it go. He watched silently while Siana continued her work. She remained focused on her task, applying healing salves after cleaning deep cuts. He decided that she was doing better than anyone else and returned to the campfire. He saw that Terra had also fallen asleep, and he was suddenly reminded of their initial meeting in Castle Figaro. A short-lived smile appeared on his face; his technique really was rusty.

-=-

The campfire, if it could be called as such, had died out. By then it was around midnight by Edgar's reckoning. They had finished the graves and gathered a small pile of firewood in the center. Each grave was marked with a small stone, the best they could find in such a short period of time. In the darkness of the forest, they were the only ones that made any noise. It was completely quiet, unnaturally so, and that only added to the despair they felt. They were alone in the world.

Locke lit the fire and stood back. The dark forest was once again illuminated by flickering orange-yellow light.

The group gathered around the fire, silent.

Terra stared blankly, her eyes long since dry of tears. She had witnessed the worst while trying to save lives. She had watched, her vision hazy while her spells fizzled, as Michals had died in her lap. It numbed her more than the chilly night could.

Beside her, Locke thought of Davis. His fist tightened thinking of how cruel life was. Davis had children, wasn't that what he said? Children that would now be without a father. One day, Locke promised. One day, he would find those kids and tell them how what kind of man their father had been.

Davis Malsbury and Michals Bethon, they had been their allies, their friends. They might have been Imperials but they were good people. Locke took Terra's cold hand and squeezed.

Cyan's eyes were dark and distant. He was no stranger to funerals. He knew that all the tears in the world would not bring the dead back. The knight watched the flames and said his prayers. The words were recited from memory without pause, yet another ally departing the living aboard the Phantom Train.

For Sabin, the loss of Gau had been a terrible blow. It was his fault. He had involved the child personally. He had failed to find him in the engine room. He had left Gau to die in the airship.

The martial-artist was silent. To anyone that might have been observing, Sabin looked like he was mourning the loss of his friends. But to Edgar, there was something else. Edgar could see it in Sabin's eyes. The same look in those blue eyes reminded him of the past, years ago when their father had died of poison. When they were still children themselves but forced to decide the future of their kingdom.

It was not sadness; Edgar knew that Sabin was blaming himself for each person lying in their grave. It was foolish, but Edgar knew that Sabin actually believed it in his heart. As always, his younger brother would carry the burden alone. Yet Edgar knew of no way to reach his twin brother.

Ten years had passed since their father had died from the poison of the Empire. And just like back then, Edgar could do nothing. His eyes wandered across Siana, who was standing close beside his brother. Her red hair was done in a bun, long red locks hidden underneath a beret. She stood tall and proud. Her uniform somehow looked crisp and clean despite the all the dirt and blood. She seemed to be reciting something under her breath, and then a crisp salute -- a clenched fist over her heart -- that was held for far longer than Edgar could watch.

He turned away from the fire, away from the grief and despair, and most important of all, away from the dead.

-=-

It was dark when Edgar woke. He had fallen asleep watching over Relm, concerned for the youngest of their group. With his back against the trunk of a tree and a short sword digging uncomfortably into his ribs, he had slept without the comfort of a blanket or a makeshift pillow. Even the dirt may have been softer than the bare bark that his back chafed against. The few bedrolls they had salvaged had been given to the injured, and then to Terra and Relm first. After that, there was little left to go around.

Edgar took a quick head count. Everyone else was still fast asleep. Edgar shook his head with wonder. It was a small miracle that they had lived through the night. They had been so distraught and unorganized that no one had suggested watches. In the past year there was hardly a single night without at least two people on watch. Yet here they were, in an indefensible open neck of the woods, totally unprepared for any danger.

Of course, none of them expected anyone to chase after them. Certainly not the Imperial Air Force, which had probably been ruined by the beams of light that tore apart the lands. At least the hells that had been visited upon them were indiscriminate. The Air Force was probably scattered across the lands in pieces, and whatever survived was probably no better off than they.

Monsters, on the other hand...

Edgar shook his head. No, there was no reason for the monsters to be still chasing them. Atma Weapon was resigned to the Floating Continent. It had some obscene reason to stay close to the Statues along with the legendary beasts that were the legions it had command over. Command, Edgar scoffed. That was a strange word to describe the control that Atma seemed to wield at times.

No, Atma Weapon would not chase them in vengeance. Not after they left the island. The other monsters were unintelligent beasts; nothing that could track them despite the blazing trail they left across the skies.

Yet Edgar still felt uneasy. Despite cold dictating logic that they were safe, he felt the opposite. Something was getting to his nerves, but he could not figure out what. Supplies were not a problem. Food was actually abundant. They couldn't carry all that Setzer had stored. At the bottom of the airship had been chests of Imperial rations. They were edible and would last a week or two. Setzer had kept a steady supply of the foodstuffs in his cargo bays, for what reason no one knew. They would not have to resort to foraging or hunting yet.

Water was a problem. What little they had would not be enough; they needed fresh water in unbroken skins or bottles. Fortunately there were plenty of those, again Setzer and his miraculous fire-resilient chests. There had even been some Imperial metal canteens. Finding clean water in the mountains might be difficult though. Edgar looked up towards the sky, expecting the black rain he had seen pour from those demonic mushroom clouds. There was nothing... yet.

Their lack of weapons was a serious problem though. Most of their gear had been irretrievable from the wreck, and what they could find had been broken. His favorite spear had shattered at some point during his fall, and much of his armor had been rendered unusable. He had found a short sword at some point during their search of the airship, but there was little else.

Edgar frowned. It dawned on him what was making him uneasy. As a young child he had often camped out in the woods near South Figaro. At that time, it had been peaceful and his father cared little in preparing them for their future. He had enjoyed many a night counting stars beside Sabin. They would ensnare rabbits and make a delicious stew, listening to stories from his father's knights. He could still remember one of the better stories. The Knight had paused, lengthening the suspense. It was then that Edgar could remember the chirping of the crickets, the call of the birds, as he had leaned closer to the fire waiting for the next stunning revelation.

This forest was quiet. Not just quiet, but dead quiet. The serenity of a forest that should have been full of wildlife chilled Edgar to the bones.

Surrounded by unnatural silence and covered by a blanket of darkness, Edgar Figaro stared at the ashes of a long dead fire until sleep took him again.

-=-

"I think I hear water."

They turned to Sabin, who had taken the lead with one of the three torches they carried.

No morning sunrise greeted them when they woke. Instead it was suffocating darkness, cold and unfriendly. According to Edgar, they had rested for well over ten hours. They all trusted Edgar's timekeeping skills. He had proven his ability to keep track of time without tools over the course of their journey. Many of their plans would have failed if it were not for the king.

The sky was still filled with dark black clouds churning violently far above them. Weak, sickly light that made it through the heavy cloud cover could not penetrate the thick canopy of the forest.

Fortunately, the lack of a morning sunrise was their only disappointment. Their first problem was the injured. Terra had checked on the three unconscious men. Setzer, laid out in a makeshift bed of leaves and bandaged all around, was still as docile as when they found him. His breathing was regular now, but his pulse weak. Strago was worse; his breathing was deep and rare. At times, they thought the old man had simply stopped breathing, only to wait a couple of minutes and see him draw another breath. It was nerve-racking.

Marcus made their injuries look like mere scratches. With his broken leg, missing arm, and the huge bandaged gash that had opened his chest and spilled much of his lifeblood, Terra winced in pain every time she looked at him.

Yet three men had made it through the night, and were still alive. That was a small relief.

It was too dangerous to move any of the injured. Terra's abilities had their limits, even with Relm's help. What little in the way of medical supplies they had was either not enough or unsuited to the task at hand. After all, concoctions were made to banish fatigue on the battlefield. They were not a replacement for real rest and capable treatment at the hands of a skilled doctor.

Cyan suggested they make a litter to carry their injured friends. At least if they remained lying down, they might stand the chance of surviving the journey that lay ahead of them.

After they finished a meager breakfast, the second problem became even more apparent. They were fast running out of fresh water.

Since Cyan was the only one who had made litters before, he had stayed behind with Locke to build what they could. Terra and Relm had remained behind as well. Although the reasoning had been so they could watch over the injured, everyone shared the same unspoken concern: the two girls were simply still too weak to travel.

Sabin, Siana and Edgar had struck out from the campsite, each with a torch lit by magic. Searching for water was one priority, trying to get their bearings was the second.

"My ears aren't as good as yours," Siana replied to Sabin. "But considering the thicket, I wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of mountain stream that flowed nearby."

Siana was in better shape than either of the two brothers. Her injuries were minor and whatever had troubled her mind was pushed aside. She had pulled her long red hair into a pony tail and was now unconsciously twirling it around a finger as she looked around the darkened woods. Her hair looked like it was on fire because of the way their torch-flames danced.

"Agreed, I think we're getting closer to the highlands as well," Edgar commented. "The forest is getting sparser. Perhaps we could climb high enough to find out where we are."

They were completely lost. The mountains north of Tzen were quite expansive. Even when the Empire was expanding its territory, it was rarely traveled by people. With his compass broken, Edgar had assumed the sun would light their way, but the fates had conspired against them. Even the moss that normally grew on the north side of trees was nowhere to be found. Edgar had hoped they could find that moss, he had used the stuff to find his way home in the past. After finding conflicting directions though, Edgar had given up.

"I wouldn't suggest that," Siana said. "So far, we've been lucky and the ground has been pretty even. The closer we get to the mountains, the more difficult it'll be to get around. Especially in this freakish dark... with nothing more than these torches, it will be extremely dangerous. If any of us break a leg-"

"Then I'll just carry you back," Sabin interrupted as he broke a particularly large branch that was in his way.

Siana gave Sabin an irritated glance. "And if you break your leg? You're the least cautious of any of us," she snapped.

Sabin looked back at her, a quizzical look on his face. "Then I'll walk back," he replied nonchalantly as he continued his way through the heavy underwood.

Edgar chuckled at his brother's bravado as they followed the martial artist through the thicket. Pushing aside thorny bushes, they found themselves in front of a small stream of running water.

"Water, like I said," Sabin repeated. "I would never miss the sound of a river."

"This barely qualifies as a creek, much less a river," Siana retorted. The creek was barely two feet deep, though it was quite wide. It looked more like part of a ford than a creek. She bent over, dipping a finger into the cold water. "It's clean," she announced.

Edgar looked down, orange-yellow light from their torches reflecting off the crystal clear water.

"We could follow this to the sea," he said.

"Unless it leads into a valley," Sabin pointed out.

"The lady is right though," Edgar said. "Climbing higher so that we can see over the forest sounds great, and then I think about our total lack of light. Even if we make it without injury, the clouds are still blocking the sun so we probably still can't see anything! Getting back down would be hazardous at best. We're lacking any gear to make the climb, and even if we did, it could be a week's journey before we get high enough."

Sabin filled up his waterskin, shrugging. "If you think it's wise to follow this stream, then I guess we can do it," he said. "What do you think, Siana?"

Siana was filling a fourth canteen; her pack was full of containers that could hold water. She looked up, shaking her head. "We have no other options. The old man won't last long in his condition if we don't get to a doctor soon."

Edgar's mood soured as he thought of Strago passing away. Despite the fact that everyone wanted to keep Relm's mood up, no one was going to lie. The little girl, her age barely two digits in length, was doing her best to keep her grandfather alive. She was perceptive and intelligent. Relm knew the chances better than anyone else.

Edgar pushed the depressing thoughts from his mind, taking a well-deserved swig from his own waterskin in the process. "We better head back. We'll decide what to do when everyone has had something to drink," Edgar declared.

-=-

To Edgar's surprise, they were well-received when they returned to the crash site. They had taken the wrong route trying to return from the stream and nearly gotten lost in the cursed shadowy forest. Frustrated and tired, it was Siana who recognized a curious landmark of a jagged rock jutting out of the ground into a pine, as if the very earth had tried to fell a tree but failed. From there, the three adventurers had found their way back to the crash site, bringing fresh water to a thirsty crowd.

What they had not expected were the smiles on the fire-lit faces of Terra and Relm. It wasn't mere relief, it was actual joy. The two girls were in a happy mood. It was the first smile seen on Terra's face since... Edgar could not remember. Perhaps it was when Gestahl announced his plans to stop the war, many months ago back in Vector. When she had last smiled was no longer important, because things had changed.

Marcus was awake.

As the Captain drank his fill of the fresh water, Locke told Edgar what had happened.

While Cyan and Locke had been making the litter, Terra had decided that she was well rested enough to attempt a few spells she had seen cast in Thamasa. Although Strago had attempted to teach Terra some magic, she seemingly did not have the ability to learn from the books of lore he owned. However, she did try to copy and imitate what she saw.

As unnatural as it was, the younger Relm was actually the more learned of the two magic users. Relm had been schooled by Strago for most of her life and her textbook control of magic was a foil to Terra's chaotic instincts. As a result, Terra managed to stabilize a new healing spell-form with Relm's help.

Unfortunately, they had only one chance to use the spell. Keeping in mind that the effects of healing were not so much of the mind, but of the body, they decided to use it on Marcus, the most grievously injured of the three. From Terra's previous experience with Davis, the injuries to Strago and Setzer could only be overcome by the victim's own strength.

The spell apparently had not worked as they expected. Locke had been busy with Cyan by then, so he had missed out on what had happened. By the time they finished felling the trees and preparing the logs, Terra was taking a nap. According to Relm, Terra had exhausted herself doing all they could for Marcus.

Marcus awoke shortly after they had finished the litter.

Although it didn't seem like he would remain awake and conscious, Relm declared that Marcus was definitely recovering. By the time Edgar, Sabin and Siana had returned, he was wide awake and discussing with Locke what they should do next.

Edgar sat down next to Locke. Siana was checking on Marcus' bandages with a big smile on her face.

"You have no idea how happy we are to see you awake," Edgar said, picking his words carefully.

Marcus nodded. "Siana, I'll be fine, if you could just leave me alone for now," he said.

"Yes sir," Siana naturally responded. She took a seat on a fallen log next to Edgar.

Marcus turned to Edgar. "I think I can say that no one is happier than me to be awake," he said with a wisp of a smile on his face.

Edgar shrugged. "I suppose, but now that you're awake and the litters are made, we have some tough choices to make."

"Yes, Locke gave me an update on the airship crash. I didn't get a good idea where we were before we landed, but I do know the area surrounding Tzen fairly well," Marcus said.

"We have no idea what our bearings are," Edgar admitted. "The stream where we found fresh water is probably coming from the mountains, but that route is too treacherous for this darkness."

"I don't think we would have seen the ocean from the mountains anyways," Locke said. "As I was telling Marcus, I think our best bet is just to stick to the lowlands. It lowers the chances of the ground becoming a hazard, with dead leaves and vegetation hiding pitfalls and other dangers. We can't climb anyways: no light and too many injured. The litters are delicate enough."

"Agreed, but we'll follow the stream we found instead of just sticking the low ground. It should eventually make its way out to the sea," Edgar added.

Marcus nodded. "I agree, although I can't do much in the state I'm in," he coughed. "At least our water supply won't be an issue that way, and we can try to collect berries or something so we do not deplete our ration supply."

"These clouds are the real issue," Edgar stared upward. "Without the sun, it's going to get cold very fast. And from the looks of things, I don't think they're going away for a while."

"Magic?" Marcus asked.

Edgar shook his head. "Probably not," he thought back to the destruction the beams of light had wreaked on the world. "Have you ever seen a volcano?"

Marcus and Siana both nodded.

"An exercise was keeping the Magitek armor working even in extreme conditions," Siana explained. "One of those conditions ended up being in lava caves east of Albrook."

"Then you both know how much smoke rises from a volcano. I think the same thing happened when the Floating Continent unleashed those beams of light," Edgar said. "I can't begin to grasp the implications of what had happened. I'm no scholar. But the clouds aren't magical, although the cause is. I'd guess maybe a couple days at least before the clouds break up."

"A week of darkness..." Locke mumbled.

"Yes, and if making our way through the forest doesn't get us, the cold eventually will," Edgar added. "We had best gather what we can from the wreckage."

The group, their hearts lifted with Marcus' revival, made a final search of the airship. They gathered what supplies they could, especially bandages or clothes. Edgar told them it was going to get quite cold as long as the dark clouds churned above them so they bundled up as best they could.

While Cyan, Sabin and Locke argued about which of the three would carry the litter with Setzer and Strago, Siana and Relm finished a pair of crutches for Marcus. Unfortunately, he had lost one arm, so he still needed help to move around. Terra was hopeful that she could heal his leg by the next day.

Edgar, with his broken arm in a sling, stuffed their packs with everything that was still usable. Even partially burnt bedrolls could be used to keep them warm. He had been told stories of Figaro soldiers in the far north, beyond Narshe. The sun would set for weeks there and the cold was enough to freeze a man's tongue right off.

However, they soon reached the limits of what could be carried. Even Relm would have quite a load, and Cyan and Sabin had the litter to carry along with their own packs. The journey was going to be slow and grueling.

Locke lit two more torches, giving the second to Terra. Locke had avoided carrying Setzer and Strago by volunteering to stay in the lead. It was the most dangerous role since he would be forging a path for everyone to travel. Locke had fashioned a cane out of a particularly thick branch and was testing to see how he could poke at potential covered pitfalls. Once he was satisfied that the stick would easily tell the difference between leaf-covered ground and leaf-covered holes, he took out his knife and expertly carved a handle.

By that time, everyone was ready for the short march to the river. It was getting near sunset, and even if there was no sun to mark the coming of night, their muscles burned from the exhaustion of the day.

Edgar found Marcus and Siana near the graves of Gau, Michals and Davis. Siana held a torch with one hand, her other was steadying the Captain. The two had their heads down and stared at the ground. It was Marcus' moment of respect paid to his friends before they left. Everyone else had already said their piece the night before. For Relm, Terra and Sabin, they seemed to avoid the graves as often as possible.

Edgar said nothing, giving the two soldiers all the time they needed.

Marcus finished his prayer for PFC Davis Malsbury, making a note to himself that he would have to deliver the news to Davis' son. His son was his only child to survive the Esper attack on Vector. Marcus felt a surge of hatred from within, a condemning feeling towards the despicable espers. But he forced the feelings aside, instead turning his attention to the rock that signified Michals' grave.

Lieutenant Michals Bethon of the former Imperial Special Forces would rest for eternity here. Michals had been his best subordinate, both loyal and capable. He had been his closest friend. When suspicion had fallen on the ISF after General Chere's supposed treachery, Marcus had been one of the men under extreme scrutiny. Michals had stood behind with unwavering loyalty. When the ISF was broken up by Palazzo's orders, Michals had turned down a promotion and stayed with Marcus. When news that General Christophe was dead and General Chere had been kidnapped by the Returners, Marcus' request to rescue their General had been turned down. Before Marcus returned to their base, Michals had organized a platoon of former-ISF to go on the mission anyways. And when Marcus had decided to throw his lot in with the Returners, Michals had already been loading supplies onto the Blackjack.

Neither man deserved this, denied the dignity of a proper burial. Marcus would return one day and make sure both men were properly laid to rest.

"For the glory of the Empire," Marcus whispered. His fist went to his heart. Beside him, Siana did the same.

Then Marcus turned to Edgar, a hard look in his eyes. Fire light danced behind, casting shadows across a man marked by battle scars, physical and mental.

"Let's go."

-=-

They made their way to the stream with no problems. Sabin and Cyan managed to haul the litter with ease. It helped that Cyan's armor had been broken and he had tossed the chain mail for a leather vest. Otherwise, the older man probably could never keep up with Sabin's boundless endurance.

Locke led them quite well. He had traveled forests often in the past. Edgar pointed out the path from earlier that day and this time, they did not get lost.

The going was slow but nowhere as slow as they expected. Marcus kept pace with Relm despite his injuries. Strangely enough, Terra had volunteered to help Marcus. Siana had looked quite relieved. Edgar assumed that though the two shared common bonds, it was probably uncomfortable for her to be so close to her commander. Edgar had plenty of experience with authority intruding on friendships.

Meanwhile, Siana told them a story while they walked. A couple years ago, she had been deployed to Tzen. They were to catch a pair of thieves who had apparently stolen a Magitek armor prototype. Chasing the two men had been easy; they left a trail that even a child could follow through the thicket. After all, Magitek armor was not exactly easy to hide or sneak around in.

However as they got in sight of the stolen armor, the two thieves had attempted to use the prototype to defend themselves.

Cyan grimaced as Siana told them how the thieves had foolishly activated the armor. Sabin laughed as he remembered Cyan's attempts to pilot the armor while they escaped the Imperial camps so many months ago.

While the two men shared an inside joke, Siana explained that the thieves discovered how to use the prototype missile launcher. However, they had failed to aim properly and ended up detonating the missile inside the armor. Fortunately for the would-be thieves, the missile was not explosive.

Instead the missile had sprayed sticky white glue on the thieves. The glue had been designed to interfere with other Magitek armor and slow down large groups of enemy soldiers. Detonated at point blank with merely a single armor and two men near it, the adhesive worked wonders.

"When we returned to Tzen," Siana said, "we carted in a single Magitek prototype with both thieves stuck to the sides. The base commander was not exactly too happy about that since apparently, they didn't have anything to dissolve the glue with ease."

They shared a laugh, though it was not because the story was funny. They simply needed to laugh to relieve stress and frustration.

The rest of the trip was in relative silence. Terra and Marcus talked quietly; mostly Terra was concerned with his health. She was unsure of her grasp of the spell's mechanics despite Marcus' assurances that he felt fine. The loss of one arm was a pittance compared to his life and if she could heal his leg, then he would be more than in her debt.

Terra assured him that it was possible, especially with Relm's help. They just needed time to prepare.

"I always thought magic could easily mend broken bones," Sabin said. He looked back at Terra. "Seems like magic should be able to do stuff like that pretty easily, otherwise it wouldn't be magic."

Terra shook her head. "Strago taught me quite a bit in Thamasa. Healing has always been a challenge for them and there are some that dedicate their entire lives to learning how to heal," she said as she tightened the buttons on the tattered pieces of her brown jacket. "I'm trying my best."

"Weird, limits on magic seem to make it..." Sabin trailed off, watching his steps as he led the litter around a particularly thick root along the forest ground. Cyan followed, being careful as to not injure the two hurt men anymore than necessary. "Well," Sabin said as he cleared the obstacle. "It's just less magical, especially after seeing all that Gestahl or Kefka did."

Terra brushed a strand of hair aside, her green hair taking on a strange shade in the yellow-orange light of their torches. "Well it's just hard to heal. I'm trying my best," she repeated quietly.

"Hard to heal but easy to destroy, how fitting," Marcus said. The soldier steadied his single crutch. Since Terra was leading him, she did not see the look in his brown eyes. But the anger in his voice was not lost. "It seems obvious what magic is really meant for: death and destruction."

Terra looked to the ground, her mood darkening.

"It's not my fault," she whispered to herself.

-=-

They reached the river roughly around nightfall, although that was debatable since they couldn't see the sun set. Locke scouted the area with Siana and Edgar, finding a sheltered grove of trees that they could consider camp for the night. They felled a few trees for firewood but did not look very hard for sources of food other than the rations. Everyone was tired and running around in the dark with torches was dangerous enough already. So they ended up eating Imperial rations with a bit of dried fruit and meat for flavour.

When nearly everyone was finished eating and had begun to drift away, Edgar turned to the Captain. "Marcus," he said in between bites of jerky. "What do you think the situation will be like in Tzen?"

"Excuse me?" Marcus asked. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Well," Edgar began, "Tzen will be the closest city once we manage our way out of this forest."

Marcus nodded. "There's a couple smaller villages nearby, but Tzen is the only city this far north," he answered.

"I wanted to know what you think would have happened in Tzen, considering the Floating Continent, the Emperor's death, and those beams of light..." Edgar trailed off.

Marcus looked around, noticing that only Edgar and Siana were paying attention to them now. Sabin had disappeared with a torch soon after he had finished his meal. Terra and Relm were discussing magic farther away. The Doma Knight sat against the trunk of a dead tree, his eyes half closed as he rested. He didn't see Locke anywhere.

Marcus cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should discuss this when we cross that bridge," he said. He did not feel right discussing anything about Tzen, whether Celes had trusted them or not. In the end they were Returners. They were nothing more than Rebels and he was still an Imperial soldier.

An Imperial soldier that had tried to kill the Emperor. That made them traitors, far worse than Returners.

Marcus banished the thought.

Edgar shook his head. "I want to know what we're getting into. It is public knowledge that the Emperor had broken the treaty after the disaster in Thamasa," he stated.

Marcus nodded his agreement.

"And even you were fooled into thinking that we had killed off Leo and Celes," Edgar continued.

"With the help of the Espers," Marcus added. "Yes, we were told that you Returners had betrayed us."

"Right," Edgar said. "Then I don't think going to Tzen, an occupied city, will exactly cause us to be showered with rose pedals."

Marcus sighed. "Tzen is not occupied. It's been years since the war and they're a province within the Empire now. The army's presence there is only for the protection of the citizens," he said. "We protect the people from the monsters and to secure the coast. Every so often, we'll even deal with petty crimes like thievery as well."

Edgar raised an eyebrow. "Do you really believe that?" he asked.

Marcus paused, judging his words. What game was this aristocrat playing here?

"What are you getting at?" Siana put in. She looked angry, although it might've been the fire light coloring her cheeks in disdain.

"Repeating lies adamantly does not make them true," Edgar stated quietly.

"That's ridiculous!" Siana nearly shouted. "Tzen wants, no-" she corrected herself. "They need us there. We've been requested to step in many times by the Governor," she defended. "At least three times that I know of personally."

Edgar narrowed his eyes, a wisp of a smile on his face.

"Siana, stand down," Marcus said. The one armed soldier stroked his unshaven chin. His brown eyes stared daggers into Edgar. "I admit, we've been fooled before by faulty information. Leave Siana out of this though, she's just a pilot. It's not like they get much news anyways." He didn't like anyone picking on his men.

Edgar nodded.

"What are you talking about, Marcus?" Siana asked, now thoroughly confused.

Marcus sighed again. "He's testing us," he answered. "We've been fooled before with covers over our eyes. Now that we see clearly though, he wants to see if we're still so blind to follow the things we're told. After all, selectively telling the truth works better than any lie." The soldier looked into their campfire, using his sword to turn over a log that had grabbed his attention. The orange-yellow light was becoming an annoyance to him; the light, tedious in its unchanging state, was damaging his sight. He paused, letting Siana think things over, before speaking once again. "You're right," he directed at Edgar. "There have been a couple cases of uprisings in Tzen and its surrounding villages... even the city of Ethelben had some problems. We've been told it was mainly due to the work of you Returners, but I'm not sure if that's entirely true anymore."

Cyan took a seat near Marcus. The conversation had caught his interest.

"Tzen has a commander, a General at that, who isn't exactly the kindest," Marcus further admitted. He paused and watched Siana find another seat further away, on the other side of the fire. "Officially it looked like a reward, but it does make sense that there's anti-Empire sentiment there, otherwise someone that prestigious wouldn't have been assigned such a position. I still think you Returners have had your fair share of meddling in things."

Edgar grinned. "I wouldn't admit to it. Figaro is still allied with the Empire," he said with a smile on his face.

"I suppose that's a joke I don't understand," Marcus retorted. The comment made little sense to him. "Either way, there's a substantial garrison in the city of Tzen itself and that's without mentioning the forces located on the coast and throughout the province. With the Emperor's death and General Christophe dead, then Palazzo..." he trailed off.

"Kefka is dead."

They turned around. Locke was leaning against a tree, listening into their conversation from a safe distance. The thief had his headband off and looked horrible in his bloodied white shirt. His blue jacket was missing as well; he had given it to Terra earlier.

"We don't know that," Marcus said. "No one liked General Palazzo, not even Nairne," Marcus nearly spat out the names; such was his hatred of them. Kefka and Nairne had ruined Celes' reputation and caused the mass execution of dozens of her loyal officers. They had even dared sentence her, though that plot had been foiled by the Returners. It was one of the few deeds that redeemed the Rebels in Marcus' eyes. "But he was insane and powerful, and without seeing his body, I don't tr-"

"I trust her! Celes would have finished Kefka," Locke interrupted. His voice was both strong and bold, hiding an underlying current of emotion that threatened to surface.

Marcus paused, his heart and mind fighting for a moment as he wrestled with his loyalty and cold logical reasoning.

"Enough of this speculation," Edgar said. With a few words, he defused the angst-filled situation between the two headstrong men. "Getting back to Tzen, you were talking about the commander there?"

"No, I wasn't." Marcus stroked his chin again. "Palazzo had positioned plenty of his loyal men throughout the Empire in positions of power. He wasn't much of a soldier, but he was good at internal politics. He played the House of Lords against each other and somehow retained the ear of the Emperor. He wrecked the careers of a couple more popular generals, even sending one to a pointless political appointment down in Albrook. Still, I didn't think he would go so far as try to execute General Chere..."

Edgar folded his arms. "Strange, for a mere Captain, you seem to know a lot."

"I am an ISF Captain," Marcus answered.

"So we'll be dealing with one of Kefka's lackeys?" Locke asked.

Marcus laughed, catching everyone off-guard. "No, most definitely not," he replied between chuckles. "General Danielle Meras is a decorated war hero." He saw the questioning look on Edgar's face. "Her actions broke the back of Tzen's Army," he gave them a toothy grin. "She conquered the Kingdom of Tzen a decade ago."

"So she's a bloodthirsty power-hungry Imperial. Well that just lovely," Locke grumbled from the side.

Edgar ignored the comment. "Gestahl is dead and his closest advisors are gone as well. And if I remember my stay at Vector, most of the high ranking folk were slaughtered when the Espers attacked. That means there's going to be a huge power vacuum. What do you think we're walking into?"

Marcus considered Edgar's question. "I can't say for sure. But I know one thing. There's no shortage of ambitious officers; wars tend to bring out those kinds of people," he sighed. He already knew the answer to Edgar's question. "In the past year, Palazzo's control of the Emperor's court wasn't well received by the upper brass. When that monster tried to kill General Chere, it probably sparked the huge reorganization that I found myself a part of. It's likely they were consolidating their power just in case."

"And now?" Edgar asked. "How likely would they use that power?"

"They'd never listen to the civilian leadership," Marcus replied. "That means several generals are commanding mobilized armies in a headless state, chaos and disorder..."

"No..." Siana gasped. She stood up, a look of shock on her face.

Edgar nodded. "I already thought about that. That's probably the worst thing that could happen," he said.

"You were leading me to that conclusion," Marcus accused. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Siana leave. He didn't like the idea of a civil war anymore than she did, but he didn't have any family. Siana still had her mother in Albrook. Marcus turned his attention back to Edgar.

"Perhaps," Edgar said, grinning again.

Marcus shook his head, not enjoying being lead around like a child. The grin on the nobleman's face angered him. "Alright Figaro. You want to know what I think will happen in Tzen?"

Edgar bit off a snappy response.

"Well, I'd say General Meras wouldn't lose control of the city. Her men are fiercely loyal, bordering on fanatical. They'll do anything for her," Marcus said.

"Sounds like someone I know," Locke said under his breath.

Marcus shot a glare at the thief before returning his gaze to Edgar. He stared across the fire at the King of Figaro, a man that was his enemy no less than a week ago. "She's probably locked down the area, mobilized her troops to take whatever supplies are necessary. Considering the Floating Continent, the beams of light, and now these dark skies, if she hasn't deployed every single Magitek unit at her disposal, mobilized the army and declared martial law, then I'm a flying chocobo. It might not have happened yet, but only an idiot would believe the Emperor could have survived on the Floating Continent when it blasted itself to pieces. So soon, very soon, Tzen will be swarmed with soldiers. "

"Outright mobilization. Great, just what I feared," Edgar commented. "Do you think she'll take kindly to us showing up?"

Marcus chuckled at the image that popped into his head. "She'll execute you on sight for assassinating General Christophe. And this time, General Chere won't be here to stop the attack," he said, reminding Edgar of a certain ambush. Just days earlier, Marcus and his men had sprung a trap that would have slaughtered Edgar and all his Returner friends had Celes not halted the strike.

"I wasn't planning on going toe to toe with Magitek armor," Edgar said. "What about you? You said you knew this Danielle, would she take kindly to you? We need to get medical attention for Strago and Setzer," he said.

Marcus shook his head slowly. "She wouldn't remember me. I'm might be a Captain in the ISF, but that's still far below her immediate circle. She'll just assume I'm a grunt that defected."

"Great," Edgar grumbled. "Just great."

-=-

When it was time to sleep, Edgar and Locke had taken the first watch while Cyan and Marcus had volunteered for the most brutal of the three, the middle one. Sabin and Siana had taken the last. Edgar was surprised when Marcus woke up on his own. He had grown used to waking the others when his turn was up. It was nice to work with another professional.

Edgar waited as Cyan slowly got to his feet. Marcus had limped his way to the other side of their camp, so they were alone and out of earshot.

"Cyan," Edgar said quietly.

Cyan had also woken up on his own, though less readily than Marcus. In addition, Edgar could see that Cyan was still tired. That was strange, as normally Cyan would be more alert than anyone else.

The Knight readjusted his sheathed sword before turning to meet Edgar's eyes. His eyes were red, more so than from just fatigue.

"Yes, Edgar?"

Edgar sat down on a log beside Cyan. He lowered his voice. "What do you think of our new allies?"

Cyan's hands were brushing against his tunic in a strange fashion. Edgar wondered what he was wrong. That kind of idle activity was something Celes would normally do, not Cyan.

"He is more than he seems," Cyan said after some thought. "Sir Marcus is a loyal soldier though, capable of thinking beyond the dogma of the Empire."

"So you like him," Edgar concluded.

"Do not assume such things," Cyan glanced over at Marcus. "He knows too much. I would be weary of trusting any Imperial soldier, especially one who is as free-speaking as he."

Edgar nodded. "Very well, then I believe this would be the best time to discuss Setzer."

"His loyalty," Cyan finished in a quiet voice.

"What do you think now?" Edgar asked.

Cyan sighed heavily as he folded his arms. "Setzer returned for us on that monstrosity. Were he still a spy..." he trailed off.

Edgar knew what Cyan was hinting at. They had discussed the possibility that Setzer had been an Imperial spy for a long time now. The two men had never believed the gambler could have been so easily convinced to help the Returners, not when he commanded an airship. Yet Setzer's actions had never been anything less than as a devoted member of their team. Even if his reasons were less than agreeable...

"I mostly agree, Cyan. It doesn't matter whether Strago and Relm were on the Blackjack or not, he still saved our lives when he didn't have to. Perhaps his motives are actually to woo Celes."

"Mostly... thy speech betrays thee," Cyan pointed out.

Edgar nodded. "I won't trust Setzer fully. The airship is a piece of technology that I can't believe Setzer built on his own. He's connected to the Imperials in some manner, and until we find out what that is, I'll always be suspicious. Just look at all these chests of Imperial supplies: rations, canteens, even blankets and clothes. All of it was on the airship even when he wanted the Blackjack to be as light as possible. It doesn't make sense!"

"It is indeed perplexing. I have not an answer to avail thy suspicions."

"I just wish Strago was around," Edgar sighed. "He always had something insightful to point out, something that I never saw even though it was right in front of my eyes. I grew used to his sagely advice Cyan."

"This mystery cannot be solved at the present."

"And he's done nothing but risk his life to help us," Edgar sighed. "You're right, I know. I'm just wasting my time."

"Very well," Cyan unfolded his arms and clutched at his tunic. "I believe we understand one another. He is a comrade-in-arms, and we shalt see to his expeditious recovery. I shalt take my watch now, Edgar."

Edgar nodded and watched him leave. Wearing little more than a ripped up tunic, Cyan looked nothing like a Knight of Doma. His back was hunched and the bandages about his wounds were soaked with dried blood. Streaks of ash and dirt covered what skin was unbandaged. At that exact moment, it occurred to Edgar that Cyan's armor -- one of the few things Cyan had brought from Doma -- had been broken in the crash.

-=-

[Elessar]

The rest of the night passed by without issue as the watches were more than sufficient. Each had reported the same: the forest was utterly silent. There was no chase from the Imperial Air Force, no monsters to be fought off, no animals, birds... nothing. Edgar would have shared his concern about the bizarre quietude, but they had too much on their minds already.

There was no change in Setzer or Strago. Though it was good news in a way, it did not help their moods. Terra and Relm were the only ones to have slept the entire night but they still looked tired. Locke and Edgar put on false smiles for everyone else and hid their fatigue. Cyan was reserved as usual and Sabin was irritatingly energetic. He even looked fresh since the bandages that covered his burned skin had been redone, lucky for him to be on the same watch as Siana.

Marcus seemed better. He hid his disappointment when Terra told him nothing could be done for his leg yet.

They set out when everyone had woken and eaten. Torchlight lit their way as they followed the creek. The ground was wet and slippery. Dead leaves covered the lay of the land; a single slip and one might fall dozens of meters. The waterway tended to twist and turn through the thicket, at times sinking lowering into the ground and making it treacherous to follow. Terra and Relm had both fallen twice, Marcus once, before Locke decided they had to stray farther away from the creek. They had been lucky no one had been lost or hurt yet, but they couldn't keep taking chances. They all agreed; the dark forest deadly to travel through with mere torchlight.

The vegetation did not change in any perceivable manner, nor did the ground steadily slope downwards. Locke and Edgar quietly shared words with each other many times, pretending to calmly discuss their surroundings. However, a fight was boiling below the surface. Tension and frustration had grown high and the collision of two strong-willed men left a lasting grudge. In the end, they agreed to disagree. They would follow the waterway by sound and have faith. The creek itself was now much larger, almost a stream, and this was evidence enough for Edgar; they were heading on the right path.

Camp for the night was made a stone's throw away from the stream. They could hear the sound of water trickling close by as they ate, the only sound in the forest to be heard. Their dinner was far better than before. While they had journeyed through the dark woods, Siana had happened on a harvest of berries. After declaring them free of poison, the adventurers had gathered as many of the sweet berries as they could.

It was a small luxury that they could afford.

Later that night, Terra and Relm attempted to heal Marcus' leg. With a glowing blue aura surrounding the two girls, they wove practiced spells around the Captain for nearly two hours. It was quite a long time and those watching had grown tired of the light show.

Cyan remained silent, too silent in Edgar's opinion. But the King was not sure why the knight was so distant. Originally he had assumed it was the age difference. Cyan could pass as their fathers and in Relm's case, grandfather. Taking even that into account, it did not explain the quiet aura that surrounded the former retainer of Doma.

Locke watched Terra for the duration of the spell casting. He was the only one whose interest did not fade.

Green, blue and yellow sparkles of light spiraled around Terra's fingers as she laid one hand on Marcus' ankle. The blue aura around her had turned a warm shade of yellow as she whispered arcane words under her breath. A cascade of white light encircled Relm, whose eyes were closed and hands holding onto Terra's shoulders. The trees around them shone brightly and created a colorful rainbow of reflected light that pleasing to the eyes. It was a pleasing contrast to the monotonous torchlight that had been their only source of illumination.

Then the enchanted luminescence faded away. The forest returned to the orange-yellow flickering of their torches.

Yet as one source of happiness faded, another took its place. A cry of delight rang out in the silent woods. It grabbed everyone's attention with its unique tone. Rare was the sound of good cheer in these past days.

Marcus stood without help. He had one less arm, but two working legs. There was a big smile on his battle-scared face, one that was only outmatched by a joyous Terra.

"By the gods, it actually worked!" Marcus was saying. "I didn't really expect it to work, but it did!"

Relm cheered, "I knew we could do it."

Marcus swept the two girls off their feet, giving both a one armed hug.

"Congratulations," Edgar found himself saying. "And welcome to the club," he added as he rubbed the sling his arm was in.

Marcus laughed. "Maybe these miracle workers can help you as well," he said. "They did in hours what normally takes months."

Terra beamed.

Everyone shared in the celebration; Marcus had become a symbol that things would get better. They told stories around the campfire, sharing in rounds of jolly laughter as they tried to forget the past few days. Between Sabin and Locke, there were comedic stories aplenty. Especially since the two men had decided to start sharing stories of Edgar's rather tragic attempts at flirting with the opposite sex. The King was not too pleased about that development and subtlety nudged the stories to center around Locke's adventures. After Locke had amply embarrassed himself, he tricked Marcus into telling the next story.

In between bouts of laughter while Sabin declared he would tell them a story to upstage Marcus, Edgar noticed that Cyan had hardly joined in the fun. Yet there was a smile was on his face, almost hidden underneath his thick moustache. The King of Figaro grinned. He put an arm around the Doma Knight to make sure he would join in. No one would escape telling something embarrassing about themselves.

-=-

The village of Beckett was in the core of the Empire. Traders from Sellenger would stop in Beckett to stock up on supplies before traveling the narrow and often dangerous Anthony's Pass. People always wanted to avoid going around the mountains -- the Plains of Callaghan were too far to the south and the Gap of Reddenhurst too far to the northeast. Although the rockslides and avalanches of Anthony's Pass regularly claimed the lives of inexperienced merchants, it had been a toll that most were willing to pay.

Nancy was one of those rookies that had decided to try her luck with Old Man Anthony. She led a caravan of chocobo-pulled wagons, filled with foodstuffs that were now several days late. Nancy did not regularly deliver by this route, her produce typically arrived from Fanshaw and so safer to travel through the Plains of Callaghan. This trip was different, it was time-critical and her usual ten-man crew was accompanied by something else:

A squadron of Imperial soldiers.

The brown-uniformed men kept their torches high while they rode slightly ahead. Nancy's delivery had been deemed important enough to require a heavy guard. Even if Nancy wasn't as smart as she was, it would have been easy to guess why the Empire had suddenly sent her an escort. The dark clouds in the sky swirled at great speeds. People had gotten around to calling it the Long Night, and Nancy prayed to the gods that it wouldn't be changed to the Eternal Night.

"Lady," the Imperial officer at the head of the escort motioned for her stop.

Nancy halted her chocobo. She was at the head of the caravan, and the wagon drivers behind also reined in their chocobos. She got down from her wagon and hurried to the officer's side.

"Kurtfield, check ahead," the officer gave orders as he dismounted into a puddle of black tar. The foul stuff clung to his boots and the soldier cursed loudly.

"Dennis?" Nancy had taken care where she walked. She had been lucky enough to avoid the hellrains, but there were plenty of people that told her all about it. She shivered whenever she thought of those that lived through the black downpour. Nothing could remove that sticky stuff. It fell on trees, leaves, hands, even the skin. Their escort of soldiers had kept those afflicted with the hellrain far away. Many that had suffered through the rains had fallen to deadly sickness, or so the rumors suggested. Nancy wondered what the soldiers had been sent to actually guard them from.

Dennis turned to her. "Miss Nancy, right?" After she nodded, he pointed ahead. "The hellrain thickens past this point. Since we're coming close to Beckett, I think we should be on our guard."

"What's happening, Dennis? What should we be afraid of? This black stuff doesn't kill you," she pointed at the ground.

The soldier shook his head. "No it doesn't. But the hellrains only poured near where death beams hit. People near the death beams get sick, body and mind. You should get back to your wagons; we won't be staying in Beckett."

They stayed on the road for another hour until the soldiers returned. Nancy and her fellow drivers exchanged cautious whispers. A few had been brave during the sleeping hours -- that's what the soldiers called it since night meant nothing now -- and snuck away from their escort. They had talked to some traveling away from the cities near the death beams. Everyone had a different horror story to tell and Nancy couldn't believe most of it. Men whose skins had been completely burned off? Women had found themselves with blisters the size of balls all over their bodies? It just wasn't possible. Nancy had seen what fires did, it didn't make skin hang like rags from the bone.

"Miss Nancy," it was Dennis. He motioned at the drivers and they continued along the road finally. When they reached Beckett, Nancy didn't see any of the horror stories. The village was covered in hellrain and in the center a small group of soldiers were standing guard.

They dismounted there and Dennis told Nancy that none of the supplies in Beckett could be trusted. They would just have to take Anthony's Pass without fresh food; if necessary they would dig into the wagons.

"Where are all the villagers?" Nancy asked as she looked around Beckett. It looked like a ghost-town, completely deserted and covered with black, sticky tar.

Dennis shook his head. "Don't ask uncomfortable questions ma'am. You don't want to know the truth."

Nancy paled at the rebuke and hurried back to her wagon. The soldiers were just doing their job, she told herself. She pushed the questions from her mind and went over the checklist for the wagon. As she looked over the wheels, her eye caught movement in between two small shacks. Looking to make sure none of the soldiers were watching her, she snuck over to the pile of week old-trash and realized what she had seen.

It was the body of a man -- well she thought it was a man -- whose entire left side was burned away. The right side was a mass of purple, and on his face, his eyeballs hung out and his mouth was frozen in maniacal grin. The rags that covered his body were charred and at his leg-

Nancy backed away slowly. A weak scream had died in her dry throat as she stared into the wolf's deadly red eyes. It was big. Nancy wondered how she hadn't noticed the grey beast earlier. It was easily twice as big as she was, and its razor sharp teeth shimmered in the light of her torch.

Then the screams of the other drivers came from the wagons. The sound of swords being drawn were heard and desperate cries from the Imperial soldiers as they struggled against the pack of monstrous wolves. Nancy instinctively turned towards the sounds and saw dozens of grey furred beasts. Dennis and two other men had drawn their swords, striking several monsters down before they fell to the hoard.

Nancy started to run. She ran away from the wagons, away from the slaughter, away from Beckett. She dropped her torch at some point and couldn't even see where she was going. But it didn't matter, she just ran far from the sounds of her chocobos dying, far from the death cries of her fellow drivers and vicious growls of the monsters feeding. Nancy tripped and fell into the inky darkness. She vaguely realized that she had fallen off a cliff; the air was whipping past her face stronger than any wind she had felt. Though her heart was still pumping and blood pounding into her head, she felt an odd sense of peace.

Ten seconds later, that peace was permanent.

-=-

Edgar wiped at his brow with his one good arm. He could feel sweat dripping down his back. The forest was getting quite cold by the way their breath left mist in the air. Edgar pulled his coat tighter. He would be drenched in sweat, but if he didn't stay bundled up then he would get sick.

The last few days had seen them cover a lot more ground. Their meals were meager; the remainder of the gathered berries, some trail mix, and the Imperial rations. Everyone was more refreshed thanks to Edgar and Locke. The two had decided -- after a lengthy argument -- everyone needed extra rest. Their arrived conclusion was that Terra and Relm would dictate when everyone else would wake. Usually being on the last watch, they certainly had the power to make such a decree. No one complained. Only Edgar could tell time in the perpetual twilight.

They continued following the stream. In front, Marcus helped Locke search for a good route to ease Cyan and Sabin's injured charges. With two eyes out front, they covered more ground faster. The stream had grown large, rushing waters and a greater depth making it difficult to ford. Many times they had to search for a long way around when a tributary cut them off from the waterway that was their guide.

Muscles began to tire as another day wound to an end. It was then that Locke approached Edgar.

"The plants, have you noticed it?" he asked. He kept his voice low so that no one else heard. Hopefully, everyone else would assume they were discussing camping options as usual.

Edgar nodded. "There have been more and more dead plants, I did notice. It's the lack of sunlight," though he was quiet, he kept the same strong and confident tone.

"I hope it's just that. I have a really bad feeling about this," Locke grumbled before rejoining Marcus in front.

Edgar said nothing.

After camp was made, Terra and Relm worked yet another night trying to revive Strago. However, despite being better rested and a couple days of additional experience, their spells fizzled and deteriorated. The successive failures to help Strago finally took their toll and Relm broke down. While she cried in Terra's arms, the half-esper looked around for help. Around the campfire, there was little reassurance from the rag-tag band of warriors. They had never even given thought to having children, much less taking care of one who was devastated by her grandfather's deterioration. Each gave Terra a saddened look. They could fight to protect lives, topple regimes, and save the world, but they were powerless to reconcile a crying little girl.

That night, long after Relm had fallen asleep in Terra's arms, Edgar and Locke were on the second watch. Though most watches were quiet by their very nature, the two were busy in a heated argument. Locke was adamant that they were wasting time. Edgar disagreed. Even if they were wasting time, there were no other options available. The two debated whether they were headed inland or towards the sea. To that extent, they brought up the plants, the trees, even the color of dirt.

When their watch ended, Edgar got up and went to get Marcus and Cyan. Cyan was fast asleep and required a jab to the side before he would wake. Marcus was sleeping lightly and woke up moments after Edgar disturbed Cyan. The king went to sleep. He was genuinely angry at the thief. There was simply nothing else they could do other than to follow the river. Locke was more and more irritable as the days went by and it was getting on his nerves.

In the morning, their routine breakfast was not so routine for two reasons. The first was a ray of light. The clouds in the sky still cast their dark shadow upon the world, but there was light. It was little and wholly depressing; empty grey beams that filtered through the clouds, neither bright nor warm. Yet it was the first time that day actually seemed like day. Though they still required torchlight in order to travel, it was a heartening feeling.

The second reason was not so uplifting. They had found out when Terra checked up on Setzer.

The gambler had taken a turn for the worse. His breathing had become ragged and his pulse weak. Terra had no idea how long Setzer could last at that rate. Tzen was still far away even if they were near the ocean. Magic had failed so far and there was still the matter of Strago's even worse condition. Were they going camp for a day and let the two girls tax their abilities for a single slim chance? Even worse, were they going to have Terra and Relm choose who would die and who would live?

The choice was obvious; they would go forward and pray they were near Tzen.

The woods were getting colder but they still sweated. It was exhausting following the river, climbing over rocks, cutting through the thick bush and making their way around fallen trees. Fortunately, the deep thick mud that they would have to trudge through had frozen. Between that and the pale light, they made good time. So it was that in the middle of the day, Edgar's worse fears were realized.

The lush green vegetation had been covered with a putrid, smelling black tar. The further they walked, the foul stuff covered more and more of the trees. Soon the plants had disappeared. The grass beneath their feet thinned out and then replaced with barren dirt. The trees around them were nearly all dead, what had not been burned away was covered in the black tar. The ground became hard and ashes from fires were everywhere. They followed the river for a little while longer but everyone already knew the horrible truth.

The group found themselves at the edge of a cliff; unnatural as the ground had simply sloped away. The black waters poured over the side, as if it were following a path that no longer existed. It dived into a crater of hardened rock that was once molten lava, escaping from the innards of the world. Mist floated from the bottom of the crater, obscuring their view of the depths of the unnatural valley.

All around the huge crater, miles across, was the stench of death. Trees had been burned to ashes, the ground horribly defiled. It was the remnants of an inferno that had devoured everything in sight.

Their hearts sank along with the river. It was not the crater that was catastrophic, nor the death and decay around them.

Clearly visible, across the mammoth gorge, were the mountains of Tzen. Formidable peaks of towering rock stood between them and salvation for their friends.

[Elessar]

The Third Chapter - Dawn of a New World

They were well ordered; line upon line, rank upon rank of gleaming military prowess. A small sample of the might of the Imperial Army, one rarely gathered such numbers in public since the disastrous display of might before striking Doma. Soldiers in shining armor, freshly polished to sparkle under city lights, were arrayed into neat squadrons. Their chain shirts shone beneath leather vests, clean-shaven faces underneath helmets that had been scrubbed a dozen times in order to remove the battle-grunge. These men stood tall and attentive, ready to die at the command of their General.

Danielle kept herself from smiling too broadly. It would do no good for her troops to see that she was actually content. Let them sweat; nothing caused more grief than imagined inadequacies.

General Danielle Meras prided nothing more than efficiency. Tradition should hold no sway in the army, especially in the life or death situations that so often plagued them. To that end she was dressed in a traveler's cloak, clean but tarnished from heavy use. Her boots were wiped but unpolished. Brown hair that barely reached her shoulders was hidden beneath a simple green hat. Neither cape nor decorative medals adorned her. For any other high-ranking officer it was unthinkable, especially a General. For Danielle Meras, it was to be expected.

Her heels clicked together as she came to a halt. She spun to the side, her aide already holding out a small notepad for her. A slight motion of her head was all that was necessary to dismiss the assistant before she turned her attention to the second highest ranking officer in their midst.

"Major," she said in a crisp voice.

"General," Major Terrance Cassidy addressed her respectfully, disregarding her distaste of ceremony. In his heart, she had always been his General. Their sole commander; not Palazzo, not Christophe, not even Gestahl could override her orders. There was not a man under her command that did not share that sentiment. She sent them off to die, and they loved her ever more for it.

"Deploy."

Her word was final, her orders unquestionable. His fist pounded against the metal guarding his heart. "For the glory of the Empire!" he shouted proudly.

"For the glory of the Empire!" returned the cheer of three-thousand soldiers.

Terrance turned to the regiment that stood before them.

"Move out!" he shouted.

A small regiment of her army, truly hers in the days that had recently passed, marched their way north. Those standing guard at their posts watched as three thousand men, nearly a third of those on chocobos, began their journey. Squadron upon squadron, their rhythmic footsteps stormed past the outermost sentries of Tzen. It was grand gesture of power, one that might have been used to quell rebellions in the past. Yet these dark days had changed many an outlook. Where they might have once recoiled in fear, it was now a heartwarming sight.

Refugees that gathered around the city stopped in their tracks, their eyes wide in a mixture of admiration and relief, to watch the army leave. Men and women alike backed away as chocobos charged past. They had all come to Tzen for protection and now they saw a small sample of that protection, offered under the Imperial flag. The cavalry was in the lead of the formation, torches flying high in order to provide better lighting for those that followed. Foot soldiers, banners held high, marched proudly forth. Their boots met the cobblestone roads with drilled precision; each ordered rank filing past the disordered peasants without as much as a glance. That disregard was reciprocated by the hushed audience; all eyes were focused in the center. The foot soldiers were mere protective fodder for the true might of the Imperial Army.

Magitek armors, five hundred strong in ordered formations of five, strode in the center of that great formation. They were huge beasts whose footsteps thundered throughout the land, their sheer size dwarfing even guard houses. White light shone from each machination, lighting the path far better than the torches of the cavalry. Their black metal bodies blended in with the nightly shadows that covered the world, but sharp metal claws on each arm glistened in the presence of light. In battle, those floodlights would be turned off. For now, they served their psychological purpose.

Danielle watched it all until they were too far to see, hidden beyond the veil of darkness. It was proper for her to watch them head north. She had sent her men to bring order to those mountainous villages; too far away to flee to Tzen yet too close to ignore. All things considered, it was the only proper thing to do. The problem of monsters could not be ignored.

"Danielle."

She turned to face Colonel Farin Starson, one of the few that dared address her by her first name. He was almost similar to the General in his regard for ceremony. His cloak matched her simple style but he wore no hat. His hair was flat at the top, a buzz cut that was reminiscent of his late mentor. He didn't show any signs of exertion, though Danielle could tell by his clothes that he had run here.

"What is it?" she asked as she began to walk back. There were many other responsibilities to handle and standing around the city perimeter would not get those tasks finished.

Farin followed Danielle through the darkened streets of Tzen. The two men that were with them were handpicked -- her personal guards. They were accustomed to listening to the General's conversations, some highly classified, and were more than capable of keeping silent.

"We've verified the commands of the House of Lords and General Caleigh," he said.

Danielle knew Farin's style. He would never personally report such dribble unless it both shocking and important. "Who?" she asked. She cut straight to the point, depriving Farin of the little joy he had in reporting such matters.

Farin paused for a moment. He did not recall the name immediately, although he should have predicted that Danielle would see through his game instantly. "Anson Tilton," he replied at last.

Danielle frowned. "Him?" she asked in an incredulous voice. She was not one to often show surprise, but she was both amongst trusted friends and truly thrown off by this development. "He's a popular one," she murmured.

"Indeed. I would have thought the House too cowardly but this is an ingenious move," Farin remarked. "There is something else though."

"Lilienthal," Danielle scowled.

"Outside Maley's Point. Caleigh's not backing down. My men could barely believe what followed."

Danielle could only shake her head in wonder. "Then it's official," she mused.

"We already assumed as much, but yes, I guess it is official now," Farin replied. The four soldiers halted. The alleyway they had made their way through had opened up into the street and Danielle rarely drew attention to herself by interrupting traffic. The streets were busy even with the dark clouds above. Businesses did not grind to a halt; there was money to be made in dangerous times. The city lights made sure that everyone could work normally and the people did their best to pretend everything was fine in the world. "It took less than ten days," Farin mused quietly.

"Ten days? No, this has been brewing for months now," Danielle answered equally quietly. "This will be much less bloody than I had originally predicted. I suppose the Espers could be thanked for that, though I wouldn't admit that to anyone else," she gave Farin a meaningful glance.

"We were fortunate to have been delayed in the Mansfield, or else we would have also been in Vector during the disaster," Farin reminded her.

"I doubt it was happenstance. Either way, it's fortunate that Cassidy just left for the north," she said quietly. "While having a Cassidy would bolster our credibility, he and his men are too green." Danielle didn't need to state such things; Farin had already considered it and would have alerted her beforehand if it was crucial. The Colonel was quite reliable in that regard.

Farin nodded his agreement. "I'll take a division to the Gap," he stated.

Danielle narrowed her eyes. Those brown globes stared at Farin, as if by her will alone, she could discern the reasoning behind his sudden and strange statement. It was her place to command, not his.

They crossed the street now that the chocobo-drawn traffic had died down. Civilians gave them wide-berth despite not knowing who they were. They always avoided soldiers. Lack of visible rank was meaningless to them. They were always afraid of the army. Old grudges died hard in the city, and there was still the matter of martial law. Unlike the refugees outside, these citizens did not live in constant fear of the monster hoards. They continued their ignorant existence while maintaining a certain disdain for the men that protected them.

The four soldiers continued their way to the mansion that served as their headquarters. The busy sidewalks cleared a path for them.

"You're out line Colonel. Major-General Layton will be in overall command," Danielle answered after much deliberation. She watched his eyes for any sign of disappointment. If there had been any, he hid it well. She clicked her tongue while her mind scanned all the possibilities. "Go to Ethelben and alert Brigadier Keigwin. You will take command of the 22nd Division there. Do not disappoint me," she warned. Her voice was deadly calm, but the threat was no less potent.

"For the glory of the Empire," Farin stood tall and saluted, pounding the leather armor over his heart with great force. Danielle gave a slight nod of her head and then Farin turned back down the alleyway.

Danielle addressed her silent guards but never slowed down her pace. "Baldric," she directed at one. "Send the pigeons to Albrook and Maranda."

The stone-faced man nodded. The order was ambiguous but he knew his job. He only had to free the birds and they would deliver the news clutched in their talons. The letters were written well in advance for a situation like this.

After all, one did not go to war on a whim.

-=-

They ate dinner in silence. The day had not gone well and despite the possibility that the sky would finally clear up, no one could shed the sadness that gripped their hearts.

Edgar had verified their bearings. The rays of light had streamed through the cloud cover had been extremely weak, but with the entire day and little else to do, Edgar had figured it out.

The good news was that they did not waste the past ten days.

The bad news was that they had to cross the mountains ahead of them.

In the most ironic of ways, both Edgar and Locke had been right. They had been going the right way, except the right way was towards the mountains and into the highlands. Setzer had been an extremely skillful pilot and that skill might have cost him his life. The Blackjack had managed to fly past the Tzen mountain range and ended up sea-side. After all, they had been trying to shake off the Imperial Air Force and make their way back to Figaro. There was no way to reach Edgar's kingdom without crossing those heights.

Now those very same mountains stood in their way. The peaks were far too high and they were far too ill-equipped to attempt a climb. Yet Tzen was across those mountains. To turn northward and reach the ocean would take about two weeks and then another three weeks more in order to go all the way around. They could possibly cut two weeks off that route if they found chocobos. But that was not an option, they couldn't fight off Imperial troops if they got stopped and identified.

An outcropping of rock near the base of the mountain served as their camp. Sheltered safely beneath a ridge, they spent the night in restless slumber.

The next day was one of many trials. The clouds had grown thick again and what little light was available the day before was snuffed out. An unnatural mist had settled close to the ground. Simply seeing no more than ten paces ahead was now a difficulty.

There was also the matter of Setzer's deteriorating health. Even had the mountains been leveled and grassy plains replaced them, they estimated no less than a week's journey before they reached Tzen.

Marcus proposed the only possible solution. They would split up and scout the mountains for a trail of some sort. It was dangerous but also their best chance of finding a way through. Terra and Relm would stay at the campsite and do what they could for Setzer. Cyan would stay with them for their protection.

Despite the audacity of Marcus, who had proposed his plan much like he would give orders to subordinates, there was no dissention. They formed the two scouting parties quickly. Edgar, Sabin and Siana would be one group. The other was Marcus and Locke. These were the best teams they could create. Marcus had the best knowledge of the area while Sabin was the most familiar with mountains in general. The two men would lead their respective groups and hopefully forge a path through the lofty peaks.

-=-

It took them three days to find it. They scouted the mountains practically blind from the combination of fog and shadows. At any other time, they would have been ridiculed as lunatics. Instead, it was a courageous and heroic effort born of desperation.

Setzer was still alive, but his life hung by a thread. Terra had strained her abilities trying to save him. Some malady had afflicted Setzer, one that was not of his visible injuries. His heart was weak despite the gambler's fantastic physical health.

"I don't understand it," Terra crumpled on the ground. Sweat dripped off her brows from the repeated but futile efforts.

"He's very weak," Relm noted. "I guess we're just not powerful enough to pull him back."

Terra shook her head. "It's not that though, it feels like there's some kind of wall blocking me... blocking us," she picked up a pebble and tossed it in frustration. "Don't you feel the same way, Relm?"

Relm shook her head.

"Sometimes it's so close... I can feel the spell form at my fingertips. Then suddenly it just slips away without reason," Terra looked for another stone to throw; the first hadn't gone very far. "It's not as if I can't keep up with the spell's needs, I just..." her second stone flew deep into the mists.

"It's alright Terra, you'll find a way," Locke piped up. He finished his meal-in-a-can, their name for the Imperial rations, and put it aside. "We all trust you," he gave her a meaningful look.

Terra felt uncomfortable and turned away. "Maybe I was right the first time. Perhaps something it's a malady of the mind taking advantage of his sudden weakness. I don't know what could do it, but it could be possible," she mumbled.

Their rations were running low. What little they gathered from the forests before had long since been eaten. Now they faced the prospect of starvation within the week and had already begun cutting back. At least their water skins and bottles were full. They had filled everything that was water-tight at the river. It would soon be time to leave.

"What do you think of it?" Sabin asked.

Sabin had been the one to find the trail. It was overgrown but the marks on the ground showed that once, long ago, the trail had been in heavy use. It had been difficult to find because the highland ground was rocky and left hardly any impressions, regardless of how much traffic had gone by. Sabin's experience from living in the Kolt Mountains had been the only reason why they even found the chocobo markings.

It was the first thing that had gone right since they fixed Marcus' leg.

"I think it's an old trail, but these markings show recent use," the Captain said. He knelt down to examine the markings closer. "Maybe a month ago," he declared.

Sabin nodded his agreement. "I think it'll lead through the mountains. Chocobos can't fly or jump across chasms."

"Yes. As well... these black marks here," Marcus brushed aside a few weeds, showing the dark trails to Sabin. "They're old, but I think they're tire tracks."

Sabin looked at him quizzically. "It could have been anything," he said with a frown. "But if they were wheels, then that means the chocobos were pulling wagons."

"That makes sense. This could be an old trail that once fed the old mines around Tzen," Marcus mumbled.

"Old mines?"

"In the past, the Empire used to have quite a couple settlements deep in the Tzen Mountains," Marcus pointed south, but all Sabin could see was fog. "They were mostly on the southern-side, but some came up this far in order to search for treasures hidden in the caverns. A couple of those settlements mined for metals; gold and silver mostly," Marcus answered as he stood back up.

"I wonder why we haven't seen anything of the sort," Edgar mused. He stayed back and let the experts do their job.

"The settlements were abandoned a couple years ago by Imperial orders. I'm not sure why, really," Marcus answered. "It was a pretty strange order at the time, since some of the mines were bustling with business. The gold found here was of the highest quality, better than the mines in Rian or Fanshaw. It was soft and delicate, with high luster and polishable to a brilliant shine. There was high demand back in the capital."

"You know quite a bit, I thought you were just an officer, not a connoisseur of precious metals. Or is metallurgy also a part of the Imperial Special Forces education, along with military politics?" Edgar smirked. He was joking, but the questions were always on his mind.

Marcus had a distant look on his face. "I was stationed around here back in those days. There was always the problem of monster infestations harassing the settlements and we were the solution."

Edgar noted the artful dodge. "Alright, so do we follow this or not?"

"Of course we do. The Captain already said it leads through the mountains," Siana grumbled. "Discussion is a waste of time."

"Marcus could be wrong," Sabin snapped to Edgar's surprise. "Not everything he says is gospel."

Siana glared at Sabin and took a step forward aggressively. The height difference between the two made the situation almost comical. Edgar mentally sighed. Imperials... "Alright," he tried to sound decisive. He put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Let's head back and tell the girls the good news."

-=-

Everyone was busy packing up their belongings and making sure they had the supplies necessary to continue their journey. The campsite they had stayed at for the past three days had treated them well; it had fresh water, some berries and other small fruits. Now it was time to prepare for a grueling march through the mountains of Tzen.

Edgar, being one-armed, had little to do and finished early. He sat down on an outcropping of rock that, two nights ago, Locke had declared his thinking stone. It would have offered a fantastic view of the crater they had passed, but the fog made that impossible and instead there was a wall of white mist. Far below, Edgar could hear the rumbling of water. It was quite relaxing; Edgar could see why Locke had decided to take all his watches here.

The King of Figaro took a deep breath. It was time to think unpleasant thoughts.

Edgar knew how long it would take them to get through the mountains. Setzer would not survive it, he was almost sure of that. The gambler's health was steadily getting worse. The man needed to be in an infirmary sleeping away his coma with nurses attending him. Instead, he was being carted around the mountainside in a makeshift litter.

Not that they could simply leave Setzer behind. As much as Edgar wanted to entertain the possibility, not everyone shared his distrust of the gambler.

Trust... Edgar frowned. Cyan had recounted their encounter with Gestahl and Kefka. It had appeared that Celes still had feelings for Gestahl. Had it not been for her immense hatred of Kefka, would she have betrayed them?

"King Edgar."

Edgar turned around. "Marcus, my fellow one-armed friend," he held out his hand. "Take a seat on the thinking rock, there's not much for men like us to do."

Marcus sat down. His legs hung off the side of the outcropping, perilously close to the edge. "Nice place. It's relaxing."

Edgar murmured his agreement and lapsed back into his thoughts. The two men rested in the peaceful silence.

Sometime later, Edgar turned to the Imperial Captain. "You know, I have a question for you."

"As long as it's an actual question and not an attempt to lead my train of thought," Marcus replied. He stared out into the wall of mist. "I would prefer silence than another lecture."

Edgar grinned. "No, this is just to satisfy my curiosity."

"Very well, ask."

"There's a rumor, one that I never verified. I was told that Celes torched Maranda."

Marcus's look darkened. "The General is likely dead in her attempt to rid the world of Palazzo. Why should we tarnish her memory with these rumors?"

"So the answer is yes?" Edgar pressed.

"That information is classified," Marcus responded.

"You're not exactly Imperial Special Forces anymore," Edgar pointed out.

"But you're still the King of Figaro, a kingdom that my country is at war with. I have had enough of this discussion," Marcus stood up.

"So she did. I feared as much," Edgar said softly as he turned towards Marcus. He was surprised to see that Sabin and Siana had shown up. The look on Sabin's face was dangerous. Edgar realized his brother had probably heard the entire discussion.

"Captain," Siana shot an angry glare at Edgar. "We're ready to leave."

Marcus ignored her. "King Edgar, you should know that until you wear her shoes, you should never judge hard decisions like that. Insulting her honor like this is something that is far below your stat-"

"Very good," Sabin interrupted. "Don't judge your superiors; they probably have a good reason. Just follow orders even if they're to murder children, right? After all, your General has to have a good reason."

"Everything is done for a good reason," Siana retorted.

"So you'll just trust your superiors blindly? What happened to your own morals?" Sabin growled

"Soldiers on the front can't see the big picture," Siana defended. "We have to trust the men that lead us."

"Even when killing children."

"That's ridiculous. The Army has never killed children. No one would do such a terrible thing."

"No? I suppose poison isn't killing?" Sabin sneered.

Siana's face went red.

Edgar felt goosebumps down his back. He had forgotten what his brother had seen in Doma. When the Emperor had invited Edgar to dine in Vector, he had discussed the poisoning of Castle Doma. Many within the Imperial ranks had reacted with total disgust, treating the topic as something akin to a low blow. They had already distanced themselves from Kefka's actions. Edgar could see the same reaction in both Marcus and Siana. He tried to think of something to say before the situation became ugly. The air was thick with tension and Edgar was afraid the conversation would come to blows.

"Are you seriously suggesting Celes is anything like Palazzo?" Marcus put his hand on Siana's shoulder and put himself between her and Sabin. "That's an idiotic statement and you know it. She fought and bled beside you, fighting for your ideals and-"

"She fought for her own ideals," the deep authoritative voice of Cyan cut through the air. He stood on the path leading back to the camp with his arms folded. "And you're right Captain," he said with contempt. "She always fought and bled beside us, but never with us." His words reminded everyone of Celes actions in the Magitek Factory, in Thamasa, and on the Floating Continent. Like his blade on the battlefield, Cyan had defeated his opponents with a single blow.

Marcus was silenced, but he shook with rage at how people were disrespecting the memory of his dead general. Siana had retreated behind her Captain. Sabin had relaxed and gave his friend a respectful nod.

Cyan turned away from them. "We have been ready to leave for a while. Let us go."

-=-

Following the chocobo path was demanding. It took the combined skills of Edgar, Locke and Marcus to keep them on the path. Marcus was quite used to the area thanks to his previous experiences. He caught on to many places where the trees had been marked by careless drivers, or the weeds and grasses seemed to have been parted aside. At times, the trail would pass vast stretches of hard rock and took hours to pick up again. Fortunately, Locke's sharp eyes allowed him to pick up on what Edgar and Marcus could not in the expanses of smooth bedrock. Other times the route was plainly visible. It climbed sharply in some places, making it all but impossible for Sabin and Cyan to safely carry the litter through. They were walled in on both sides by jagged ridges and rocky hillsides. The woods around them grew ever thicker, the darkness making it next to impossible to make out sudden turns that the path took. As mist drifted in and settled inches above the ground, Edgar took over. He had a strange instinct for knowing how the trail would twist and turn. He could predict the sudden detour around dangerous pitfalls hidden by the mist. A couple times they nearly fell as a group because of sudden drops but were saved by his premonitions.

The worse came when the trail disappeared and each man arrived at a different conclusion. They shouted and argued louder than safe to; Locke and Edgar had not been getting along well and the addition of Marcus and the ever-faithful Siana led to some very heated exchanges. Twice Sabin had lowered the litter and pitched his own opinion, and Cyan had even stepped in to break up an argument because the profanity was too much for Relm. Their work as team should have smoothed over ruffled feathers from the argument earlier in the day, but instead disagreement had only made things more difficult. Sabin and Marcus were at each other's throats, Edgar found himself cursing Locke repeatedly, and things had gotten really ugly when Cyan stepped in. Only the girls had managed to avoid arguing. Edgar could understand why Terra and Relm weren't involved, but for Siana to break her habit of defending Marcus, that was truly strange. Confronted with such evidence, Edgar had no choice but to admit it must have been some sort of male competition.

Still, if it were not for the three dedicated men in front, they would have lost the trail and ended up stranded well before the end of the first night.

They camped in the gloomy woods. The fog covered them like a blanket and not even the campfire could drive it away.

Edgar sat, leaning against a cold rock, huddling in the freezing woods. The tattered remains of a cloak were wrapped tightly around him as he counted the seconds before his watch would end. He glared at Locke's back. It had been years since anyone had gotten under his skin so effectively. Edgar reproved himself. It wasn't Locke's fault, they were all getting frustrated and everything had worked out in the end, hadn't it? Edgar was a diplomat; he could handle a glorified thief.

So why was he so angry?

Locke threw another log onto the campfire, now burning weakly from neglect. He didn't even make eye-contact with Edgar.

Shaking his head and standing up, Edgar walked over to wake Cyan and Marcus. Cyan woke up with a quick jab, his eyes focusing quickly on the King. Edgar turned to Marcus, who took a couple shakes before he woke.

Edgar went to sleep, listening to the sound of running water nearby. He wondered if it was just his imagination, as he did not hear the sound during his watch. The peaceful sound lulled him into a deep sleep and the next day came faster than Edgar wished.

It was not just a dream though. They came upon the rapids, its waters thick with the black tar, only an hour from their campsite. The chocobo trail led to a single wooden bridge, one that looked old and rotten. Edgar noticed that there was something strange in the way it swayed. He held up his hand to stop the party from crossing.

Locke had the same thoughts in his mind as he checked the supports of the bridge.

The two men had taken over scouting for the path. Marcus looked extremely tired and had contributed little over the past hour. He had been in the lead and missed a couple obvious signs when the path forked. Even stranger, Marcus didn't make excuses as he would have the previous day. Edgar and Locke had decided to pick up the slack and let the Captain rest.

"Looks like the supports are chewed up; I don't think it could bear the weight of a chocobo. There's been too much water from the rapids. It's been splashing at it constantly and speeding up the rot," Locke analyzed.

Edgar nodded. "Considering the massive explosions we saw, the rapids are probably stronger than they should be. Entire mountains were removed by those blasts and the firestorms consumed all the vegetation." He was glad that they were talking again as friends.

Locke whispered a few words under his breath. Yellow light tipped his fingers as he enchanted himself.

"Right, you can float us across the bridge," Edgar remembered.

Locke nodded as he continued to cast his spells. They were sparkles of magic that affected the weight of a person so that he could almost glide through the air. He had used it before to safely land on the Blackjack, saving him and Terra the great deal of pain that everyone else felt from the landing. Now he used it again so that they could cross the bridge with relative ease.

Edgar felt a little dazed. The magic was a spinning sensation and his balance appeared to be a bit off. However, he did feel lighter.

He walked across the bridge without it collapsing. The magical disturbance faded away as he waited for the others. Everyone crossed one at a time; they did not want to test how strong the bridge truly was. When Sabin and Cyan crossed with the litter, Edgar held his breath. The four men were last to leave since they had the heaviest burden. The bridge held up with some cracking noises, but the two men ignored the sounds as they crossed slowly and safely.

When everyone was once again on solid ground, Locke set the bridge aflame with a spell he learned from Ifrit. They could not leave the bridge in the deceiving condition it was in.

As Edgar turned away from the bridge, now being fully devoured by unnatural fires, he noticed Marcus acting strange.

"Float spells are still messing with your head, aren't they?" he asked Marcus.

"Yeah," the Captain replied. He massaged his temples, "and..."

It was all too fast for them to predict. No warning, no strange movements. All of a sudden, Marcus' eyes unfocused. His posture suddenly undone, the man dropped to the ground with an audible thump.

Terra let out a surprised scream. Relm jumped up in fright. Sabin and Cyan both checked their surroundings quickly, looking for any sign of an enemy. Seeing nothing, they relaxed... but only slightly.

"Marcus?" Edgar asked, his eyes growing in concern.

Locke bent down, quickly checking for a pulse. He felt around the wrist for a moment and then proceeded to turn Marcus onto his back. The Captain's face was white. Locke checked under the eyelids.

"We have a problem," he said grimly.

-=-

The monsters had become extremely bold as of late. They had begun leaving the confines of the mountains and attacked any village they could find. It was mind-boggling as to why they had suddenly become so aggressive. In the past three days no less than twenty villages had been torn apart. Others had been under constant attack and were now barricaded against all outside contact. Many had given up the fight and left for larger towns.

Major Terrance Cassidy felt a certain pride in driving this latest menace away. General Meras was absolutely correct in deploying his regiment. They were lacking experience, but fighting monsters was nowhere as harsh on the mind as fighting other men. It would prove to be good experience as well as making them feel warm and fuzzy inside.

Troop morale was at an all time high.

Despite the dark skies and constant nighttime environment, his men had accomplished their objectives marvelously. Green's Mill and Needham, the largest towns in the area, had their small garrisons reinforced and defenses erected. Chocobo riders had been sent to gather numbers and establish a reconnaissance net around their base of operations in Cartha. Small squads, consisting of ten on foot and two armors each, were sent to relieve villages that had barricaded themselves. A couple platoons were currently headed deeper into the woods. They would clear out the greatest danger: packs of wolves called Lunaris. Those wolves had been the smartest of all monsters; they gathered only in great numbers and their swarming tactics alone had overrun at least five villages. Terrance had heard rumors of more, but he waved them aside as little more than scared ravings.

Terrance leaned back against the rickety wooden chair inside his command tent. It was quiet outside, even though business was flourishing. After all, Cartha was the biggest town in the area. It was a source of booming trade due to its envious position; the town was nearly on top of tributaries to the great river Zarren, which would pass Tzen and empty into the bays of Ethelben. It even had a large garrison; one that had been heavily diminished in the recent days. They had fought against dozens of mutated toad creatures and monstrous grasshoppers. Its commander, a Captain of little note, had been killed in a skirmish just hours before Terrance's scouts arrived.

His second, Captain Godric Waldgrave of the Magitek Corps, flipped through pages of reports. Maps of the area were strewn around the command tent, blue pins sticking out of positions that their troops had been deployed to. Red pins labeled areas where monsters had clustered around, though those were rarer and rarer with each passing hour.

"I've been thinking," Godric was saying as he laid down his notes. "I don't buy the silly superstition going around. The monsters aren't more active than usual because of the longer nights; they sleep just like we do."

Terrance nodded his agreement although he was uninterested in the topic. He read through an interesting report of bandits. Thieves had been caught pillaging one of the villages, Little Pine according to the notes, that had been trampled by a pack of Lunari. Grave robbers, he hated grave robbers. It was utterly despicable; stealing from the recently departed.

"In fact, there's only one thing that really affects monsters," Godric continued unbidden. "Weather. I wonder if the colder days are making the monsters flee to the south. Birds migrate when the winter comes," Godric pointed out.

Terrance yawned. He scribbled a note to send a couple more squads into the area of Little Pine once the Lunari were reduced a bit farther. Now for other matters, like the waterway that had been an abode of loathsome harpies. Those bird-like monsters had been harassing river travel. Without the river it was difficult to send supplies north. That meant his men were restricted to the region around Cartha. If they planned on making any more progress towards the mountains, they would have to extend their supply line to -- Terrance looked around the map -- Nestil.

"But then I thought about it. Birds fly north, not south, when winter comes," Godric continued. "It just doesn't make sense why the monsters would start flocking south when it gets cold."

"It's a puzzle that won't be solved. Stop thinking about it," Terrance grumbled. "And don't we have any newer maps? The ones we're working off of are outdated, considering that squad one-fifteen ran into a river," he pointed at a blue pin on the map, "where there isn't one."

Godric shook his head. "The maps are as up to date as we can get. You saw the death beams that shot out from the floating island. They remade the world into a new hellish image. I've got reports of new valleys and canyons, huge swaths of forests turned into a field of ashes," he flipped through a pile of papers. "Look at this one: river is dry, traced it back to landslide estimated at size of city," Godric shook his head. "Our magical destiny doesn't seem so desirable," he whispered under his breath. He took care not to let his commander hear his treasonous words.

Terrance pushed the report away. "Send a messenger to have one-twelve and one-fifteen follow this river to the source. Take this old path," Terrance pointed out a trail that led to an old mine, deep into the mountains. "The birds concern me; we don't have any air cover and not enough archers for cargo ships."

"I can go personally," Godric suggested. He was one of the most veteran officers under Terrance's command. Godric had served during the Doma war, piloting a Heavy-Siege Armor despite the rocky terrain that plagued Southern Doma. It was a ridiculously difficult task to maneuver such a large and unwieldy machine in anything less than smooth grassy plains. There had been many an accident even on Vector's cobblestone streets while transferring those siege units. With such skill, the pilot had been rewarded with multiple medals and his own task force.

"No, that's not necessary," Terrance said. "If birds attack more often as we get farther upstream, then I'll send you and your unit to cleanse their nests. Until then, we sit tight."

Pacifying monsters, it was something Terrance hadn't done for years. He grinned. This wasn't a campaign to invade a country, but it would serve to showcase his talents. A promotion was certainly within his grasp and all he had to do was defeat an enemy incapable of tactical thoughts. His father would be proud.

-=-

As they climbed steadily higher, cold winds had swept the mists away. Frosts covered the rocky trail and snow wouldn't have looked out of place. Terra huddled against a piece of jagged rock, blankets wrapped around tightly as she shivered uncontrollably. It was not the temperature; she had long since been numb to the elements.

She stared blankly ahead, her eyes red from crying. They were quite high up. By following the trail without question through the mountains, they had found themselves on one of the peaks. It was a steady climb that had taken most of the day before, but at least they were headed the right way. The path wound its way around the mountain steadily and they had found shelter within a depression in the cliffs. The view was quite stunning from where they camped. Below them the lands were wooded until it suddenly broke into an expanse of gentle rolling hills. They could see quite a distance and although no villages could be seen, Edgar had guaranteed no more than three days of walking.

Three days of starvation was what Edgar promised. They had finished off the rations they had, despite stretching the food as long as they could. Relm had been the only one to have anything to eat for supper that night; everyone else had gone to sleep on empty stomachs.

Unprompted, Locke suddenly appeared beside Terra. He was quiet, simply sitting next to her and saying nothing. She wanted to ask him why he was bothering her, but she simply didn't care enough.

For a long time they sat beside each other, silent. At last, Locke spoke up.

"You know, the first watch is for me and Edgar. You're stealing our thunder," he joked.

Terra stared blankly ahead.

Locke pursed his lips before sighing. He watched the mist from his mouth dissipate in the night air.

"It's not your fault," he said.

Terra blinked away the inevitable tears. She gave Locke an angry glare and began to speak. She quickly cut herself off though. Her voice was probably weak and she did not trust herself to say the right things.

Terra could see it in his eyes. His words said it was not her fault, but his words were lies. Not even the look of worry could fool her. His eyes betrayed him, no matter how concerned he might look. He blamed her.

She had killed Marcus.

Her. No one else. It was her fault. She was directly responsible for it.

Terra bit her lip. Marcus had been right all along. She was simply an instrument of death -- a killer. Her efforts at healing had failed horribly, but it had been easy to take the lives of hundreds of soldiers.

The spell used to wake Marcus had never been right at all. Magic was often dependant on the emotions of the user; that much she had known all her life. However, all the ways Relm had taught her to calm her feelings in order to heal had failed miserably. Hours of effort to mentally prepare for a single casting, flawed at the very core. A single malignant seed had tainted all her curing spells.

Marcus had been living on borrowed time the moment she had touched him. Her spell had woken him at the cost of his life-force. It weakened him with each passing day, keeping him conscious at the greatest of costs. Everything she had done had been wrong. Corrupt and tainted, spells that feigned benevolence had sapped and drained the poor soldier until he could move no more.

The spell to heal his leg had only sped his race to the grave. Relm had helped her cast that time, but she had been the principle weaver. The spell she wove was directed by her alone, no one else.

It was her fault.

They did not know, could not have known! Marcus had seemed so alive, so vibrant. How could they have guessed that something was eating him from the inside? How could they have known until he collapsed from the emptiness within?

Terra gritted her teeth. Her eyes watered with renewed tears.

She should have known. She could have saved him. She could have changed the spell. Perhaps she could have woven a patchwork; a net to catch him if he fell. Perhaps...

Marcus had laid on his back, his eyes open after Terra's spells had brought him back to consciousness. They had hardly moved from the bridge, the sound of rushing water was still easily heard. Terra had done everything at that time after realizing the extent of the corruption in her original curing spells. Even with all her power though, she could do nothing more than bring the old soldier awake for his last moments.

She had not told him the truth. Marcus had gazed into her eyes as he died, still trusting in her abilities as a mage.

"It's ok," he had breathed. "I trust you."

He trusted her, and she had killed him.

She didn't even have integrity to tell him to his face.

"Terra, it's not your fault," Locke said again.

Terra snapped out of her thoughts. Her eyes focused. She was back on the mountain now, breathing in ragged gasps as tears ran down her cheeks. Terra did not know when she had started to cry. She tried desperately to hold the tears back and looked around. Locke was still there, that fake look of concern on his face. Why did he put up such a charade?

"Stop lying," she managed to say. Her voice was no more than a whisper, hoarse and cracked. Terra avoided Locke's brown eyes. How could he look at her after what she had done?

"Terra-" Locke began again.

Her eyes grew wide, a sudden surge of anger raging through her veins. "I said stop it!" she snapped, enraged. Terra surprised even herself with her sudden outburst. She was absolutely infuriated with him.

"You don't understand," her voice grew weak again. "You don't know what it's like -- to be a child of death."

"You're not a child of death, stop saying silly things," Locke said.

Terra stared across the fields of Northern Tzen. "Death and destruction, that's all magic brings," she whispered quietly. "Magic destroyed the world a thousand years ago and now magic has destroyed the world again; all because of me."

Locke was silenced at last by utter surprise at her words. He looked at her in hopelessness, unsure of what to say.

Her eyes, those beautiful blue globes, turned to meet his eyes. In them was a mixture of anguish, suffering and guilt reflected from the depths of her soul. The breath caught in his throat as he struggled to remain afloat in the angst that drowned her.

"Just leave me alone," she whispered.

And he did.

-=-

The past four days had not gone well for Terrance Cassidy. He struggled to maintain his calm, a measured degree of coolness in a situation that would enrage any other. After all, five squads had gone missing. It was a mystery that was deepened by scarce reports and contradicting data; one that had to be solved immediately.

The Lunari problem had been resolved. Hundreds of the wolves had been wiped out by his men. Large wolf packs had attacked his squads en masse, but his soldiers, green no more, had torn the monsters to pieces. Despite being outnumbered, Magitek and superior combat tactics had led to the decimation of the monster threat in the southernmost regions. Cartha was now completely secure, as were the eleven other villages within two days march. Terrance had thought about moving command farther north, but the ease of resupply at Cartha had swayed him otherwise.

It would have been easier to move his base deeper into the forest if their maps were still correct, he thought. If only the world hadn't been rearranged by those death beams, Terrance thought as he gritted his teeth. He knew there was some truth to the rumors that the Floating Island had been the fault of Emperor. How many speeches had he sat through, listening to the old man speak of their magical destiny and the revival of that ancient force? Terrance had been unmoved by the words; he was a nobleman and such sophistry did not affect him.

His father, Lord Cassidy, had always been weary of the Emperor's obsession. It was treasonous to voice such thoughts, but they were nobles. Terrance had grown up under his father's tutelage and knew that things were not always as they seemed. The Emperor was not a god. He made mistakes and the Floating Continent had been the greatest of them all. Now the Emperor was dead and his subjects would have to live in a world forever scarred by that man's hubris.

Terrance turned his attention back to the monster pacification. There were more pressing matters to think about than the dead Emperor. He had lost nearly sixty soldiers in the far north. Originally, the action was hot throughout the forest. Beasts had roamed the forest at random until his regiment had secured the area. Now there was a wall of monsters between them and the mountain range, a curious development to say the least. Though the subject had annoyed and irritated him earlier, he found himself also wondering why the monsters were clustered so far south.

He had sent a couple squads farther north. They were to backtrack and tear apart clusters of the beasts from behind, or to scout close to the mountains. Those men had brought important news. In particular, squads that he had sent along the new river had reported discovering a couple more villages that were in desperate need of defense. Terrance had sent relief in the form of nearly two hundred men. He had even included Captain Godric Waldgrave and his Magitek squadron. Aside from defending and pacifying the monsters so far north, he had wanted Godric to hunt down the monstrous birds that harassed them. Their nests had to be farther in the highlands. As long as Godric was in the area, the nests could be found and destroyed within a day or two.

So once again, he found himself staring at the lists of missing squads. All of them had been lost near the base of the mountain range; they had not been cleared to go deeper into the Tzen Mountains. Most of the men lost had been inexperienced recruits. They had been recently trained for relieving the Doma and Figaro occupation forces. He had expected a few casualties since they had essentially been prepared for simple police work. However, the loss of the Magitek pilots could not be so easily overlooked.

Magitek pilots were a rare breed. They were both experienced and extremely intelligent. Losing them to mere beasts was almost incomprehensible. Admittedly, most of the armors included were merely Light-Patrol Class. Equipped primarily for speed and agility, they were lacking any serious long range capabilities and relied on mobility and cover. They were nothing like the All-Terrain Class Armors that were the backbone of the army. Still, such weapons were designed for mountainous terrain. How could a few monsters tear apart his superior forces?

Terrance sighed. He began to write his report to General Meras. She would not be happy, but he needed more reinforcements. Whatever could tear apart that many squads had to be dealt with. However, he could not devote the manpower to deal with the threat as long as he had the villages to defend. Thus he needed more men. Perhaps a couple heavy armors, although proper deployment in the wooded and rocky terrain would be a near impossibility.

He finished the letter and slipped it into the talons of a messenger pigeon. The bird quickly took flight and Terrance found himself wondering about the monsters again.

Godric had assumed the monsters were trying to migrate south. It made little sense, but that's what the facts showed.

Terrance blinked twice. He had a strange thought: what if they were afraid of something?

One of his Lieutenants handed him another stack of reports. Terrance dismissed the man and returned to his command tent. His wondered if it could be true; that the monsters were fleeing to the south to escape a terror.

But what could scare monsters?

-=-

"It's been abandoned for weeks," Locke announced.

They were gathered around a small cottage lit by flickering torchlight. It had been located a short walk from the trail that had led them through the mountains, a small path that had been hidden between berry bushes. Sabin had been the one to notice it, Locke and Edgar had already walked past in haste.

It was the first sign of civilization they had seen in nearly three weeks. The cottage was small; no more than a walled room with a roof and chimney. Dead leaves and rotting needles had hidden the well-worn path from their view. Spiders had been very active, stringing their silky webs all around the abandoned house.

Locke had emerged with his face covered with sticky threads. He had gone around back to make sure they did not miss anything. "There's some old firewood, chopped up, lying in a nice pile back there," he was saying as he peeled the spider webs off his face. "I'd say whoever lived here was preparing for the winter."

Edgar looked at the house. It did not look abandoned so much as forgotten. Personal affects were still visible through dusty windows, and tools were laid around the front. "I'd say the owner took a short walk and never came back," Edgar concluded.

Locke was checking the door and jiggling the handle, while Edgar bent down to examine some of the tools on the ground. There were a couple rakes, weed cutters, and a hoe. Whoever had lived here had all intentions of returning, but simply never did.

"The chances of the owner's return are slim," Cyan spoke up. "It is prudent to gather what we can."

As much as Edgar hated to admit it, Cyan was correct. They might be stealing, but they had little to eat in the past week. His last real meal had been nearly six days ago. That was back when they had just begun to climb the mountains.

Edgar looked around. Sabin stayed far away from the abandoned house. He had no interest and simply watched over the litter. Siana was even further away on the trail, distant and unresponsive to all. Terra was holding Relm's hand. There was a fake smile on her face. All around there were no disagreements with Cyan. The old knight spoke little enough in recent days and when he did, it was usually to point out a course of action.

The young king kept himself from thinking about the hopelessness that had gripped his friends. After Marcus was buried -- Edgar laughed pitifully, they had barely been able to do that much thanks to the rocky ground -- they had gone from hopeful and lighthearted to grim and mournful. Even his mood was unavailing, but he was the leader here. He could not let the pain show through; that had been done during the funeral in the mountains. As well, he had enough problems without succumbing to his own emotions. Locke had shared his concerns about Terra. Those concerns were now Edgar's problem, although he had tried to ignore them.

Locke cheered as he unlocked the door. He slipped inside and took care not to harm anything with his torch. A brief glance about and then he yelled at Edgar and Cyan to help him.

The inside of the cottage was as Edgar expected. An unmade bed was in the corner. There was a small fireplace with logs beside it, a tiny round table in the center with two chairs, and various cupboards against the walls. It was a modest home. Someone had lived much of their life here, even though he was isolated from the rest of the world. It felt cozy and comforting despite the poverty of the former owner.

"Let's get what we need and leave. I don't feel too good doing this," Edgar said as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

Locke nodded. "This is pretty low, but I'm not letting Relm starve."

Nor Terra. Edgar could see the concern edged into the treasure hunter's face. Those unspoken words carried more weight than anything Locke might have said.

They began to take what they could. The former owner had been preparing for the coming winter and had a great deal in non-perishables. There was plenty of salted meats and canned vegetables, biscuits galore and even a couple jars of creamed honey and jam.

After filling their three packs, Edgar went outside. He grabbed two more packs and threw them to Locke and Cyan. They couldn't fill all the backpacks they had, but it would be enough to last them at least two weeks.

As he waited for Locke and Cyan to finish, Edgar stood outside and stared up at the sky. The clouds seemed thinner, in his opinion. They had been very lucky to discover their bearings earlier, as no light had filtered through the following week.

He noticed a strange expression on Terra's face. Her eyes were darting about wildly, looking up at the sky at random intervals.

"Are you alright?" Edgar asked her.

Terra looked frightened. Though it was a welcome change from her usual despondent face, it was not a good sign. She let go of Relm and began to search the skies.

"Terra?" it was Sabin who was worried this time.

"Blow out the torches," Terra said. Her voice was ragged and raspy, she had not spoken much for the past few days, but the abruptness of the order confused everyone.

They watched as Terra let go of her torch. She stamped out the fire and then turned to Sabin and Locke. "The torches!" she shouted in a panic.

Her sudden frantic mood was odd, to say the least. Locke had put out his torch as quick immediately, but the others did nothing. A moment passed before Relm suddenly grabbed Siana's torch and snuffed it. Seeing the look on the girl's face, Sabin finally relented and put his out as well. It was not difficult for them to light torches with magic, so they could afford to entertain Terra's eccentrics.

As their eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness, Edgar spoke up. "What's wrong Terra?" he asked.

"Quiet," she breathed, "can't you feel it?"

Edgar raised an eyebrow. He waited for a moment before realizing that Terra probably couldn't see him.

"Feel what?" Edgar asked, quietly this time.

They waited for an answer in silence but neither Relm nor Terra said anything. As Edgar's patience ran razor-thin and he was ready to demand a response, he heard something strange.

It was the sound of rustling leaves that grew ever stronger. Edgar glanced upwards into the sky, the outline of the canopy creating on a small window in which he could see the clouds above. Closer the sound came until suddenly, the window into the sky disappeared. A dark shape screamed past them, great wings that could be seen spread out widely as it flew past mere meters above them.

A powerful blast of wind followed with a great booming sound; leaves, dead or alive, blew past them in a torrent of stormy gusts. Edgar closed his eyes, it was not like he could see much with them open, and tried to keep the uncomfortable memories of the Blackjack from surfacing. His ears rung from the intense noise and the currents whipped his face without remorse.

Then all was calm, except for the weakening sound of rustling leaves. Edgar brushed at his face. There was a sticky trail left behind. He looked at his hand in displeasure; some manner of dead vegetation had gotten stuck.

"What was that?" Locke's voice quivered as he spoke. He was first to break the silence, unable to keep quiet any longer.

"I don't know," Terra answered. "I felt its presence though. It was coming at us incredibly fast. Every fiber of my body was screaming danger."

Edgar lit a small flame in his hand. "For a bit of light," he explained. "But I'm still too frightened to relight our torches," he added sheepishly.

In the weak flickering glow of firelight suspended over Edgar's palm, they all saw the terror on Terra's face. They had been scared by the shadow as well, but they did not feel what she felt. Even in the past, Terra had extraordinary senses whenever something magical was suspect. Celes had showed the same aptitude when felt an Esper's mind, and perhaps when Relm was older she could feel it as well. For now, they only had Terra. They should have trusted her more.

"I think," Terra continued in a voice that was barely a whisper. "I think that I've felt that kind of power before."

"Where?" Edgar asked.

"It was in the Sealed Cave," Terra replied after some deliberation. "When the Espers charged out of the gates and nearly killed us all, that was when I had the same feelings."

"That couldn't have been an Esper," Locke said. "I don't know what it was but something, maybe Ifrit, tells me that it wasn't anything like an Esper." He referred to the Magicite that hung around his neck. Nearly everyone had one. They had been charged with the duty of stopping the Empire's war and saving the espers.

Terra clutched at the stone that hung around her neck, the shards of her dead father: Maduin. "I don't know what it was either," she admitted. "Just that it's extremely dangerous."

They fell silent. Though what had passed by was still mysterious, it seemed undeniable that it could have ended their lives. It was a humbling thought for a band of warriors that had seen so much.

"-gon," Cyan whispered.

Edgar almost missed it in the silence, that was how quiet Cyan's voice was. He was carrying a pack on each shoulder, still staring into the sky. The flickering light above Edgar's palm barely illuminated the old man's face.

"What was that?" Sabin asked. He was farthest from the Doma knight and had missed what was whispered.

Considering how reserved Cyan was lately, it was a surprise that he repeated himself. Later, Edgar would assume it was because Cyan and Sabin were close friends -- bonded from the many battles they fought together and a shared sense of guilt at Gau's death.

"'twas a dragon," Cyan repeated quietly. "A dragon greater than the airship in length."

The awkward silence that followed that revelation could be broken by only awkwardness. It was the sound of a small stomach growling from emptiness.

"Dragon or no dragon, I'm hungry," Relm whined.

Edgar grinned in spite of himself. "Let's get out of here and find a more sheltered spot," he decided. "Then we can eat."

-=-

[Elessar]

Sabin felt more peaceful than normal. His feet were crossed and his hands rested comfortably against his knees as he mediated. He had the second watch, although it meant little as of late. They had decided against paired watches during their march in the mountains, a few days ago. Monsters were nowhere to been seen and everyone could use the extra rest. They certainly deserved it after all they had been through.

His mind wandered as he rested. It was a good thing for him. All the unnecessary concerns and silly ideas could be given attention now, leaving him focused when the day returned.

The dragon that had passed by was quite concerning. It was large, he knew that much and Cyan had reinforced what he saw. Larger than the airship, that meant this dragon was easily bigger than the ones on the Floating Continent. That would make it the same size as Atma Weapon.

Perhaps it was one of the older monsters that they had safely ignored? It was possible. They had not covered the entire island and that place was infested with powerful creatures. It could have escaped the Floating Continent before the light beams and found refuge.

The dragons were strong and smart, a combination that made it very dangerous to fight. Michals had shared some tips dealing with their kind, the late Lieutenant had a great deal of experience with the green scaled monster's smaller cousins. Most of those suggestions had been oriented around his twin blades, though one strategy had suggested the use of archers and chocobos.

No matter, they would deal with it when it became a problem. There was no real reason to worry about it now. They had plenty of things that required attention.

He fetched some crackers from his pack before returning to soft patch of grass that was his spot.

As he chewed, his mind wandered again. Siana was growing despondent as of late. Marcus' death had affected her greatly, more so than anyone aside from Terra. As for Terra, well she had issues of her own to resolve. Sabin wondered what they would do once they returned to civilization. Perhaps they could take a long vacation in Figaro; Terra could use the rest and relaxation.

"Hey."

"You're back early" he said without looking up.

Siana sat down across from him. The ashes of their dead campfire separated them. "It's supposed to be a quick check of our surroundings," she pointed out. They had been partnered on the same watch since the crash and had a set routine. "Your loud chewing probably alerted everyone to our position," she said with a frown.

With a mouthful of crackers, Sabin grunted. "Sorry," he said after he swallowed. "I was a bit hungry and we have plenty of food again. It feels great to keep the stomach happy," he explained.

Siana rolled her eyes.

Time passed without a word exchanged. Their watches were typically silent. Sabin had little to say to the Imperial pilot, and the last time he had tried she chided him for being unprofessional. Sabin actually preferred the peaceful calm of their watches.

The sound of a single wolf, howling in what seemed like pain, reached his ears. It was far away. Probably too far for anyone else to hear it, but it was definitely a wolf.

Strange, there had been no monsters for two weeks. Was it just his imagination?

Another howl, and shortly after there were sounds that reminded him of swords. He should check out what the noise was.

"I'm going on a walk," he said. Siana nodded her approval; it was his turn to check the area anyways.

Sabin followed the sounds, his finely tuned ears telling him exactly where the wolves were. He remained careful of dead leaves and anything else that could have caused noise, the forest was still unnaturally quiet and any careless movements could give him away.

It took quite a while to forge a safe path in the darkness but as he crawled up a gentle hill, he found the source of the disturbance.

Using both the hill and a large pine nearby, he watched from the safety of the shadows.

There were a couple of them, six by his count. They were soldiers with brown leather armor and grayish-green cloaks. Sabin recognized the command bars on a couple of the exposed shoulders. These were Imperials, grunts if he remembered the rank symbols correctly. They were gathered around a large number of corpses -- the wolves he had heard earlier -- and were concentrating on the cave in front. Fortunately for Sabin, he had snuck up behind the soldiers. They did not notice him; such was their attention on the hollow.

Thump thump, Sabin could feel footsteps against his chest. Something was shaking the soft ground rhythmically. It was something big.

The soldiers did not look scared, so Sabin already knew what the footsteps were.

Two Magitek armors appeared out of the cavern, flanked by another two men. Actually, Sabin corrected himself; one was woman. The soldiers had torches, probably to light the inside of the cave, but quickly put them out. They exchanged some words with the other men. Sabin strained to listen to the quiet conversation but could pick up little. What he did hear were bits and pieces; something about 'extermination' and 'lunar'.

They were quite far away; at least three hundred meters through the thicket, Sabin judged. He could probably sneak closer and find out what the soldiers were doing here. The Imperials were relatively close to their campsite -- about a minute away if he sprinted. It was too close to be a coincidence.

His ears twitched.

Someone was behind him. They were sneaking around with some degree of experience, but they were not as good as he was. Whoever it was, they were still behind him a few dozen meters.

Sabin fought the urge to crack his knuckles. He would have to take care of this soldier; it was obvious that he had been discovered. Though the group in front of him would wonder why one of their sentries had been knocked out, it was a chance he had to take. He could not fight both Magitek armors together if an alarm was raised. Perhaps he would be lucky and they would assume the sentry tripped in the dark and fell to his death.

The thicket was filled with more rotting leaves and dead needles than he was used to. The ground was damp though, and that helped his stealthy crawl. He slipped behind a few trees, his razor sharp eyes taking in what they could of the shadowy forest. Now he knew enough of the area to sneak around the sentry and quickly knock him out.

A rock rolled slightly, Sabin could hear it clearly. The sentry had made another mistake. Now he knew exactly where the soldier was.

With a single breath, Sabin snuck behind his victim. In the shadows, he made out the glint of a polished blade. He pounced without hesitation, his right hand clasping around the mouth and his left twisting the knife arm.

Her gasp of pain was silenced by his powerful grip and he brought both of them to the forest floor with as little noise as he could. As his arm went for around the neck for a chokehold, her familiar scent stopped him.

They lay on the forest floor together. Sabin was seconds from choking her into unconsciousness, perhaps breaking her neck in the process, and only his heightened senses had stopped that accident.

"Get your hands off of me," Siana growled.

Sabin quickly loosened his grip, sitting up after she rolled off of him. He was wary that their little scuffle had alerted the soldiers. His heart was pounding from the sudden action, the adrenaline screaming for him to finish the job he started. He had almost made a big mistake.

"What are you doing so far away?"

Sabin stood up, putting a finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet. He snuck back in the direction of the soldiers.

They were still there, continuing their discussion in ignorance. The argument had heated up and distracted them from the struggle nearby. All eight of the soldiers were clustered around the two Magitek armors. The female with the unlit torch was saying something loud enough to be overheard.

"No! Orders were to head back!"

One of the Magitek pilots looked down at the woman. "Unless you want to wake every monster, shut up!" the voice said with disdain.

The soldiers all quieted down after that and Sabin heard precious little. He turned his head to see Siana, laying on the ground an arm's length away and watching the soldiers as well.

"How did you find them?" she asked. Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I heard them," Sabin answered. He watched as the soldiers began to leave, heading in the opposite direction as their camp. He wondered if they should follow.

"Really. Despite the distance from the camp, you're telling me you heard them." Somehow, her whispers dripped with sarcasm.

Sabin ignored her comment. He wondered what the Imperials were doing in the middle of a forest. Perhaps they were setting up some sort of trap. The Imperials were devious and likely stumbled on to their trail. Sabin shook his head; he should have remembered to hide their tracks. He was getting sloppy.

A minute of silence later, and Sabin started second-guessing himself. It was a terrible spot to launch an ambush from, and the Imperials were lacking the materials necessary to build anything of note. Sabin glanced over at Siana.

An Imperial mind to discern Imperial intentions. "What do you think they're doing here?" Sabin asked.

Siana squinted. "Two Fourth-gens and an infantry squad. No support in sight, and they're so green they're actually arguing amongst each other. I'd say they're on monster clean-up," she replied.

Sabin blinked. "Mind explaining a bit more?"

"Monster clean-up. There's probably a bunch of beasts near a local village and they're exterminating the menace. Boring work so they usually send the ones straight out of the academy," she said.

"No, I meant the 'fourth gem' comment," Sabin clarified. He was well aware of the Empire's method of exterminating 'menaces'.

"Fourth generation," Siana corrected him. "They're the latest mass production model, Light-Patrol Class Magitek. The whole line is brand new, probably no less than half a year old."

"I've seen them before somewhere," Sabin murmured.

"No you haven't. They're an extremely recent development. Top brass was screaming about the Corps' uselessness in the jungle. That's the brainiacs answer: a smaller, light-weight model that's robust, capable of long-term deployment without resupply. They took so long to get out of the prototyping stage that the war had already ended," Siana sounded extremely bitter. "Typical brainiacs, they don't care a thing about us on the front. They just test and test from their safe little labs until their toys are absolutely perfect."

Sabin was sure he had seen the smaller Magitek Units before though. But where... Sabin thought about all the times he had faced Magitek. It was a lengthy list and he had never given serious thought to what kind of Armor opposed him in the midst of a battle.

The soldiers were now almost out of sight, the darkness swallowing them. The immediate danger had passed.

"Fourth-gens are pretty weakly armored compared to what I pilot," Siana continued. "They're meant to either give chase, like going after cavalry, or act as heavier support in rugged terrain. Their weapons are pathetic compared my ATA, and can't even be compared to the frontliner. It's just an elemental cannon tuned for speed," Siana turned her head towards him and finally noticed Sabin's distracted expression. "Not that you seem to care in the least," she pushed herself off the moist ground.

Sabin looked up at her. Suddenly everything had fallen into place. "You fought in the Doma War," he stated bluntly.

The surprise was clear on her face. It confirmed Sabin's dark suspicions. Before her lips formed words of denial, Sabin had gotten to his feet and spoke in a quiet, threatening voice. "Don't you dare lie. A lot of things make sense now. I had thought you just didn't like Cyan, but the space you gave him was out of fear, wasn't it?" His finger pointed at her accusingly. "You killed his people."

Siana straightened. The surprise had passed and her guard was back up. "I was assigned to Doma only for the first half of the war. General Christophe requested Magitek support and ISF sent our company. We were one of the best and did what we were told," she stated plainly. There was not a hint of guilt in her voice and that enraged Sabin.

"So that's it? You were just following orders? I'd tell you that doesn't excuse your actions, but you already know that." Sabin realized his hands were clenched. He didn't remember doing that. Siana had responded to the threat and was backing away slowly. "Why else would you feel so guilty around Cyan?" he lowered his fists but couldn't seem to unclench them.

"I didn't poison his people, Sabin. I was only there for half the war! Like I said, our units were useless in the woods around Doma. We were barely capable of destroying their railway infrastructure. So after that, I was recalled along with most of the other pilots," she glared back at him. "Those still alive," she muttered under her breath.

"Don't lie to me, Imperial," Sabin growled. "The truth is in your actions: you were a willful participant. I can see right through all the treachery. You must have known about the poison," his eyes glazed over. He remembered each and every single face that had boarded the Phantom Train. There had been hundreds, thousands, that had gone aboard the train. Cyan's wife and son, Elayne and Owain, had such haunted looks. It sent shivers down his spine.

"You killed them you by following that lunatic Kefka! Why else avoid Cyan if you're innocent?" Sabin found himself judging how difficult it would be to snap her neck.

"Because I was afraid of something like this," Siana shot back. "This knee-jerk reaction that I murdered thousands in cold-blood just because I was involved in the campaign. Do you have any idea how insulted I am that you would equate me that maniac Kefka? Do you even grasp how much I hate that bastard?" She closed the distance between them quickly. In her rage she had forgotten Sabin's physical advantage. "I killed my own people next to you," her finger jabbed at his chest. "I betrayed my Emperor and my country to help you kill Kefka!" her finger drove into his flesh, accenting each word. "I watched my fellow soldiers, my friends, die to help you! To help you kill Kefka! And now every one of them is dead! Everyone! Except me!"

Her jabs had become punches. With each blow, she had become more and more angry. Sabin grabbed her hand and held it firm against her struggles. Even then her other hand caught him in the cheek. He grabbed that one as well and pulled her tight against him. He watched her flail uselessly and decided to wait until she calmed down.

Siana didn't. Her foot caught him between the legs and though Sabin didn't collapse, he did let go of her in surprise. She backed away from him quickly. "And don't you ever dare suggest that I served under that bastard, you rebel scumbag," she spat. She ran off into the murky darkness.

-=-

Sabin strolled back into camp. He had initially wanted to hurry; Siana might have been planning on stealing their supplies and gear or at worse, try to kill them while they slept. But the dark forest was thick and dangerous to travel quickly and once calm, Sabin realized that he was being far too harsh.

He was surprised to find her quietly finishing her watch. Somehow the possibility never occurred to him.

Her back was facing him and Sabin took note that she had retrieved her knife. It was sheathed just above her boot. Her silence made Sabin uncomfortable.

Siana's eyes flickered to him as he approached.

"I'm sorry," Sabin said to her back. The words came out slowly. "I overreacted and said things that were both wrong and insulting."

Siana didn't give him the satisfaction accepting the apology. She didn't even turn around. It brought uncomfortable memories of his first meeting with Celes to mind. Cyan had been close to executing both Celes and Terra after he realized they had both been Imperials at some point. Sabin had stood behind his friend even while his brother defended the two girls. Edgar had been right, as usual, but Sabin loathed to admit that. There were rarities in a sea of murderous thugs, that was all Edgar had proved.

An Empire of murderers.

"Fine," Sabin made up his mind. "Don't accept it," he said. "It's not like I care," he finished the sentence mentally. He looked around the camp for another spot to take up his watch.

"Will you tell him?" Siana asked.

Sabin opened his mouth, but he didn't have an answer. Before it had been obvious, of course he would tell the others of her involvement in Doma. "Why are you still here?" he asked. Her answer would help him decide.

Siana ignored his question.

"What are you doing here?" Sabin rephrased after his patience was exhausted.

"I asked my question first," she retorted.

Sabin frowned. That arrogant little... "No," he grumbled. "No I won't tell Cyan. He has enough on his mind already. There's no need drag out bad memories, especially since you swear you had nothing to do with the poison."

Siana finally looked at him. "Thank you," she gave a nod of her head before turning away.

"Now answer my question."

She ignored him. Sabin would ask again several times that night, but Siana didn't speak again.

-=-

Finding out about the soldiers was both a good and a bad thing. On one hand, they knew they were back in civilization at last. On the other was the Empire, a problem for a group of Returners both recognizable and infamous.

Still, they had to take the chance of being caught. They had no choice; Setzer and Strago's lives depended on it.

However, they had yet to come up with a plausible cover story. They were no longer heavily armed but they were still suspicious. Four men, two women and one child, appearing out of the mountains where no one lived? It was going to raise a few eyebrows, if not attract the attention of whatever garrison the Empire had nearby.

The path they had been following had gradually changed. In the beginning, it was practically impossible to follow without dedicated trackers, now it was a well-worn dirt path. Edgar knew the type; they would soon merge with a major road. Once that happened, their hand would be forced. The chances of meeting unsavory characters on a major road were extremely high.

Locke had come up with a decent plan though. He had snuck ahead of them to watch the road. Apparently, he had been in these woods before and memories from his previous experiences were surfacing again.

Edgar recalled a few Returner sympathizers in the northernmost sections of the Empire. Most lived in small villages that were barely large enough to be included on the map.

He tried to remember the lists now, somewhat annoyed at his sudden memory loss. In the past, he had helped Banon coordinate the rebel-information network. Though that had been a long time ago, Edgar had worked for years with the Returners and even a few of the names should have stuck in his mind. After all, they had been a small and closely-knit organization then. They would have laughed at the very notion that eventually they would be the cause of a treaty between the Empire and the northern continent.

Edgar crossed his arms as he remembered those carefree days. Back then, he had acted the part of the Empire's ally while plotting their downfall. It had been an enjoyable time -- stressful perhaps -- but far better than fighting the great war against the Empire.

They waited for nearly an hour just a few miles away from the main road. Edgar passed the time by playing with Relm. His mind though, was on other things.

Locke returned with a smile on his face, although he was nearly clobbered by Sabin. Edgar's twin brother had decided to keep watch slightly farther away from the group. Considering he had been the one to find the squad of Imperial soldiers last night, it made sense that he was the most cautious. He went alone; Sabin didn't really work well with a partner.

"I've got good news, and better news," Locke announced as he strolled into their midst.

"Start with the good news," Edgar suggested.

"The good news is that I recognize the place. We're near Nestil," Locke explained. "I've been here twice on errands."

Nestil, that village was familiar to Edgar. He recalled that it was one of the northernmost settlements that the Empire had. If he remembered the maps correctly, it meant that his calculations on their bearings hadn't been too far off.

"Which means I know someone in Nestil," Locke continued. "A former blacksmith named Garrett. He's a nice man, and more importantly, a long time sympathizer."

Edgar gave Locke a disproving look, one that was mirrored on the face of Cyan. While she might have been helping them, Siana was still decidedly Imperial. Locke was being his old naive self and from the look on his face, ignorant of his faux-pas.

"That's good news then. Nestil is large enough to have a doctor resident and we have a friend on the inside," Edgar replied. He briefly wondered what else Locke could reveal before asking the next question. "What's the really good news then?"

"The Empire is in Nestil," Locke grinned.

Edgar cast a sidelong glance at Siana. Locke had confirmed their fears, and now Edgar had to deal with another issue: What was the Imperial pilot planning? Marcus had led his men into committing treason by siding with Celes, but Marcus was dead now. Even if Siana's loyalties were with Celes and she was following her General's orders to guard the Returners, how would things change once they were back in Imperial territory?

Locke was disappointed that no one responded to his joke. "They're dealing with tons of refugees; I met at least ten of them headed in the direction of Nestil. Apparently all the nightly monsters we normally deal with have been a big problem here," he continued.

"That explains why the forest is so unnaturally quiet, or at least, it explains a bit of it," Edgar commented.

"Right, but more importantly, it means that the Empire is undermanned up here. They don't have enough soldiers to watch every single refugee. All we have to do is slip into Nestil with a big enough group and they'll never catch us. I didn't even see them doing checks, they're just using the place as a campground and headquarters while they send out small squads to deal with monsters," Locke said.

"That is pretty good news," Edgar said. "The Empire is doing something to help its people, and at the same time, is too busy to catch us. And we certainly look like refugees," he waved around.

They all looked at themselves somewhat self-consciously. Their clothes were bloodied, but there was so much dirt that the dark splotches had been covered up. They had been traveling for over a month without taking so much as a bath.

Locke cleared his throat. "Yeah, I guess that's a bonus," he said as he rolled his eyes.

Relm giggled.

"Let's lose the torches and head to the village then," Siana said. She sounded impatient.

"Not having torches would make us look more pathetic," Edgar agreed. "We should hide the good weapons though; maybe keep some knives on hand. It wouldn't be good to stroll into Nestil pretending to be harmless but fully armed; they might assume we're bandits."

Sabin and Cyan both picked up the litter with Setzer and Strago on it. "Let's go then," Sabin said.

They dropped their torches and walked through the forest in the dark, like many of the refugees Locke had seen. Once they were on the main road they found the going much faster. After trudging through the mountains for so long, a dirt trail worn down by years of Chocobos was equivalent to a paved road. They made good time and met up with a family that was fleeing from the mountains as well. No one asked them questions or found them suspicious, although they had to take care to hide Terra's hair. Green hair was uncommon and they couldn't afford to stand out. They were just another group of refugees fleeing the sudden monster invasion. Seeing Setzer and Strago on a litter was nothing new, nearly all the travelers had their share of injuries.

Surrounded by innocent Imperial citizens, they entered Nestil unchallenged. The town was lit with many torches, giving the impression of vivid nightlife despite being the middle of the day. The streets were filled with people going about their business without fear or apprehension of the hoards that surrounded their village. Some had journeyed for days through dangerous lands, avoiding death by the narrowest of margins, just to reach Nestil. They were protected here by Imperial soldiers and everyone welcomed those men.

Edgar stared at the Magitek Armor they passed. It was standing to the side of the main road, its pilot watching the forests for any sign of life. Over twenty feet tall, it loomed over every single refugee that made its way past it; a symbol of overwhelming power.

"An ATA," Sabin whispered beside him.

Every refugee that passed the Magitek Armor looked up in either admiration or disgust. The pilot paid them no heed; his orders were to protect these people, not to look for criminals or rebels. He kept watch for signs of monsters and ignored the rest.

Edgar sighed. They were back in the Empire.

[LadyTevar]

The only thing that I'm upset about...

YOU KILLED GAU, YOU BASTARD!

Other than that, very well-written, and well done.

But don't let Setzer and Stragos die!!

[Elessar]

The only thing that I'm upset about...

YOU KILLED GAU, YOU BASTARD!

Other than that, very well-written, and well done.

But don't let Setzer and Stragos die!!

*low chuckle*

I really know no shame. >.>

[Elessar]

The Fourth Chapter - Hidden in Plain Sight

Nestil was a town on the northern border of the Empire. It was also the biggest town within two days march of the mountains. In the past, it had been much larger because of the many entrepreneurs living there. Metals and gems were abundant because of its location near the mines. The town had a bustling business district with dozens of competing workshops busy turning raw goods into beautiful pieces of art and treasure.

During the recent year though, Nestil shrank to a shadow of its former self. The mines had been closed by direct orders from the Emperor. Nestil's future seemed to be dead once its businessmen and youth left in droves for better opportunities in the Core. However, people were always ready and willing to adapt. Once the Doma War began, lumber and fishing replaced the former mining and refining industries. The Imperial war machine needed raw materials and Nestil had copious amounts of the stuff and a willingness to supply. The town saved itself from the fate of other mining villages and flourished again.

Now it had a population of nearly a thousand. Abandoned buildings, mostly former workshops, had all been taken up by the townspeople and refitted to house their booming lumber industry. They had yards of treated wood in stockpiles ready to be shipped to the Empire's cities. With such a great reserve of ready building materials, it had been easy to wall off the town when the monsters began to attack.

Refugees from the nearby villages had decided there was safety in numbers. Now Nestil was overcrowded, its population had grown one and a half times the number from the week before. Hastily made tents outnumbered the buildings and the center of town became a great bustling market. Many people from the south had journeyed to Nestil, braving the dangers of the forest in order to sell their goods at exorbitant prices. Food was in abundance if one had the money. Clothing and tools were easily found as well. From useless trinkets to fancy jewelry, hawkers of all types came to ply their wares. Some of the hawkers were even selling charms to ward off monsters.

With so many people, it was almost impossible for the small group of Imperial soldiers to pick out the Returners. Edgar had been quite relieved of that. Nestil had a weak garrison by the Empire's standards, but it was still numbered forty men with Magitek support. As well, these men were defending the town. Fighting would cripple them and Edgar did not wish to do that. He had no quarrel with the Empire if they were protecting thousands of lives from monsters.

Garrett was a blacksmith that had moved to Nestil during its glory days. He had a substantial mansion compared to the typical village house, though that was not uncommon in Nestil. Garrett's talents had been in high demand until cheap materials could no longer be had from the local mines. After that, he began to sympathize with the Returners.

They were fortunate to have his aid, no matter how selfish his reasons. The inns in Nestil were completely packed but Garrett had three deserted rooms. They had once belonged to a lovely friend of Garrett's, but were now barren and neglected.

Garrett had introduced them to the doctor, Kenneth. He was an honest young man who stayed in Nestil to help the villagers out of kindness and not for the money. Thanks to the monsters though, he was beyond busy. Had it not been for Garrett, it was doubtful that Kenneth would have accepted Setzer and Strago as his patients. However, Kenneth had owed Garrett for some favors in the past. Since Garrett owed Locke for more unnamed favors, everything worked out.

-=-

Their first night in Nestil was spent resting and relaxing. They gorged themselves on food provided by their gracious host. It had been a long time since they had ate a large dinner, cleansed themselves with running water and slept on real beds. Being clean and well-rested did wonders for their moods. Terra seemed almost normal again, melancholy instead of suicidal. Relm was more energetic, Sabin was grinning ear to ear and even Cyan had a smile on his face. They ate breakfast with cheer and gusto; the hurts of the past few weeks had washed away with the dirty water of their baths.

Kenneth approached them that afternoon.

The doctor was keen and invigorated despite staying up most of the night to deal with the many patients he had. Those high numbers had both been a blessing and a curse. Edgar knew that the soldiers might occasionally go to the doctor, either to address wounds or to request other services. If any of them recognized Setzer, it would have been a precarious situation. Fortunately, with so many patients, it was doubtful any of the soldiers would even notice. As for Strago, he was from Thamasa and few Imperial men could recognize the wizened sage, if they even knew he was part of the Returners.

"Your friends are better off than I expected," Kenneth was saying. They sat in Garrett's house. The blacksmith had been so successful that he had a room devoted to entertaining guests. Terra and Relm marveled at vastness of Garrett's house, but it was nothing new for Edgar. Business should be done in a room dedicated to such things. It was simply common sense for the King.

"That's good news," Edgar replied. They were all in the meeting room and sat around a large wooden desk. The table was made of polished hardwood that Edgar found delightful to touch. It reminded him of the old wooden tables in Castle Figaro's library: classy, delicate, yet warm to the touch.

"Yes, well I didn't expect much after you told me about your journey. I must say, these two are in incredible health after being on road for so long," Kenneth shook his head in wonder. "Considering you have no one trained to even deal with injuries like this, I'm amazed."

Locke was watching Terra to see if she was going to take credit for her work. Seeing no movement, he started to speak, only to be kicked in the shin by Edgar. A glare from the King reminded Locke that Kenneth, though a friend of Garrett's, could not be fully trusted. Even Garrett did not know about their magical abilities that were granted by the magicite each wore around their neck.

"Anyhow, I'm sure you want to know what's wrong with them. I'll start with the easy one. The old man-"

"Strago," Sabin offered.

"-Strago," Kenneth said, "is in a trance of sorts. I've seen something like it once or twice before when I was an apprentice in Albrook."

"A trance?" Edgar asked. That sounded like something Sabin should have been able to recognize.

"Yes," Kenneth said. "Not too many people know of things like this. Even I don't know how to put myself in such a reverie. I only know how to recognize and treat the symptoms. Simply put, Strago put himself into a very deep sleep to conserve his strength. That's why his breaths are so far apart; he's saving his power so he can last long enough to get medical attention."

Edgar should have been surprised, but found himself smiling at Strago's cleverness. Of course the old man would have known something so arcane. He was a lore master and studied books for nearly all his life. Edgar could not imagine the amount of knowledge Strago had.

"Is gramps going to be alright?" Relm asked.

It was strange for a ten-year old girl to be included in such a discussion but after all she had been through, they couldn't tell her to simply sit on the side. She sat beside Cyan, the older Knight had watched over her protectively ever since the airship crash. Edgar still railed at Locke's stupidity. To include a child as young as Relm in a journey as dangerous as theirs was one of the greatest displays of incompetence he had ever seen.

"He will be fine. The problem is waking him up. I can feed him and prevent him from dying of thirst, but bringing him out of the trance will only be accomplished on his own," Kenneth answered.

So Terra was right, Edgar mused. Strago had been in a situation where only he could save himself.

"As for the other man," Kenneth waited.

"Setzer," Sabin offered again.

"Setzer," Kenneth nodded his thanks to Edgar's twin brother. "Well, he's the difficult one."

"I doubt he knows how to put himself into any trance but a gambling one," Locke mused.

"Well that's part of the problem," Kenneth said. "Setzer was in extremely good physical condition prior to his injury, I can tell that much just by a glance. But something has induced him into a coma; one where he's constantly dreaming."

"Dreaming?" Edgar repeated. "How do you know that?"

"His eyes," Kenneth explained. "When your eyes are constantly flickering, it's a sign of dreams. Something is affecting him from the inside." Kenneth tapped his head. "It's an internal struggle, comas always are, and I can also keep him from dying of thirst and starvation. That's not a real problem, but you should be aware of it nonetheless. The real issue is the toxin."

"He's been poisoned?" Locke asked.

Edgar noted that Terra was right again, aside from the poison. Interesting, he thought. He should mention it to her; it would be good for her confidence.

"Yes, some sort of poison has worked its way into his system. It's a pretty weird one; I've never encountered anything quite like it. I do recognize the symptoms though, and I should be able to easily devise a concoction to cleanse the toxin."

"But?" Edgar knew there was a problem. If there were no issues, Kenneth wouldn't explain something he could easily heal.

"But," Kenneth sighed, "one of the herbs necessary can't be bought here. They only grow in the desert."

"That's a big problem," Edgar said. "There are no deserts anywhere within two weeks of here... and even then, finding something growing in the desert must be ridiculously hard."

"It's not as difficult as you might think. The plant is farmed in Alfort-Brougham since it's quite useful in many mixtures. It's quite costly, but I expect that it could be found in any of the major cities."

"Like Tzen," Edgar continued Kenneth's line of thought.

The doctor nodded. "That's correct; Tzen will definitely have the herb." He pulled a pocket watch from his jacket and looked at it. "It seems I must be heading back. I have written a description and the name of the herb here," he slid a piece paper across the table. "You should be weary of fakes. I've described how to insure that you're buying the right plant, just remember that a visual check is not enough. As for the poison, it's a slow one and I can delay it quite a bit. However, you should try to get the herb within three weeks. I can't guarantee your friend's life beyond a month, even with the antidote at that point."

Edgar stood at the same time as the doctor. They shook hands. "Thanks Kenneth, three weeks is more than enough time to get to Tzen and back. We'll have the herb for you," Edgar promised.

Kenneth nodded. "Then I'll leave it in your hands. You can visit your friends anytime, but I am typically quite busy. You'll have to excuse my directness, but I really have to be leaving."

They thanked the doctor again before he left Garrett's house.

"Well," Edgar said as he sat back down. "It seems we have a problem," he glanced around. Locke was busy reading the description Kenneth had provided. Cyan had a knowing look on his face; he knew the problem as well. Sabin seemed preoccupied with other matters. Siana had a worried look on her face, she knew too. Terra was blank as usual. Relm pretended to be busy staring out the window, but Edgar had a feeling she was all too aware of the challenge they faced.

"Tzen is about a week's march away from Cartha, the biggest town in these parts. Now Cartha is pretty close and they probably have lots of chocobo mounts there, but we can't take any of them," Edgar explained. "That leaves us with hardly any time to spare."

"Why can't we take the chocobos?" Terra asked unexpectedly.

"Chocobos draw attention," Edgar explained. "We can't take that kind of risk, not after Garrett told us martial law has been declared in this province." He gave a glance directed at Siana, who nodded her agreement. "Traveling on foot will be the only possible choice."

"Oh," Terra replied with little substance.

"The problem only gets worse," Edgar said. "We're all pretty famous here; our faces have been on posters for a good half year or more -- especially my good looking mug."

"Troops would recognize you pretty quickly," Siana acknowledged.

"Which means only a couple of us can go to Tzen," Edgar stated. "We can't risk being caught, not with Setzer's life hanging-"

"I have a plan," Locke interrupted.

They all looked at him, frowning at the devious grin on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Edgar asked. He was annoyed at being cut off, especially by Locke. Too often had their conversations back in the forest turned into shouting matches because the thief had no manners.

"I have a plan to get into Tzen. It's pretty simple really," Locke started. His signature smile induced dread in all who recognized it. "You're right; not all of us can go, because we might get caught. The other thing is that we might need a cover story if we do get questioned. So the only ones that can go can only go if it makes sense," he said with relish.

"You're rambling," Edgar pointed out. He folded his arms and prepared to tell Locke that his plan was unworkable. Edgar had done that many times during their journey since the crash. Their watches had been filled with arguments, most of which were due to Locke's incredible naivetÈ.

Locke's grin grew. "This won't be dangerous as long as we pick the right people and our story is plausible," he said.

At this point, Garrett walked into the room and sat down on one of the padded chairs. "Sorry," he apologized. "I'm just tired and need to sit; the hawkers in the market were out harassing my customers again."

No one spoke up. It was not as if they would tell Garrett to leave his own house.

"It's really simple," Locke continued.

In any other case, Edgar would stop Locke from revealing their plans in front of a stranger, but he noticed that Locke trusted Garrett a great deal. He wondered why and mentally balanced the risks they were taking. Locke had definitely been too careless as of late, speaking openly in front of Imperial soldiers, not thinking his plans through, and was far too trusting in general.

"I'll go to Tzen with Terra and Relm."

Edgar snapped out of his thoughts. He glared at Locke and he was not alone. With the exception of Relm and Siana, everyone was giving Locke a dirty look. After all, Locke had just suggested putting Relm in danger. That was unforgivable by itself. To bring Terra along as well, that was just atrocious.

Locke held up his hands in defense. "Before you start killing me with those stares, let me explain."

"That would be a start," Cyan said. When angry, the Doma Knight had a glare that could have frightened a dragon. This was slightly different; there was more murderous rage.

Edgar felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to walk over to Locke and slam his face through the table. Only his years of deportment training had kept the frustration from winning out.

"We can all agree that the three of us are relative unknowns in the Empire, right?"

"No," Edgar retorted immediately. He mentally reprimanded himself. He was letting his rage get the better of him. "Did you forget how much Terra stands out?" he asked in a calmer tone.

"That's the genius of my plan," Locke said. "Everyone stares at the color of Terra's hair. No one really notices what she looks like -- no offense," he added sheepishly.

Terra stared back vacantly.

"If we dye her hair, I bet no one would have any idea it's Terra. They'll all be on the lookout for a green haired girl," Locke finished.

"It's true," Garrett interrupted unexpectedly. "Not to say imply anything," he gestured to Terra. "You are quite attractive, but the only thing I first noticed was the color of your hair. It's very unique."

Cyan folded his arms. "Thy plan involves Relm. Why?" The Knight of Doma didn't just ask for answer, he demanded it.

That got Siana's attention as well. Her narrowed eyes added a fifth hostile stare in Locke's direction.

"If it was just me and Terra," Locke began. "We might get pegged as a young couple fleeing from their parents and family. That kind of tale usually attracts the attention of soldiers faster than an esper."

Siana's gaze softened in understanding. "That makes sense," she admitted.

"What do you mean by that?" Edgar asked.

Siana rolled her eyes. "Children should not be playing around in hopeless relationships."

"But... you're the same age as Locke or Terra," Edgar stammered in confusion. "They're not exactly children."

"We're obviously adults," Siana sighed. "I was talking about kids. Children should be in school learning, or in the military serving the good of their fellow men," Siana said those words as if she was reading from a textbook. "If I were still on patrol, I would send any couple to the stables for a month so that they can do some actual good."

"Ridiculous!" Cyan roared.

"What is? That the Emperor would care for our future and ensure that no citizen would waste their lives?" She folded her arms.

"Gestahl cares for nothing other than himself!"

Edgar suddenly remembered something he had heard. It was from one of the scholars of Figaro. He forgot the name of the man, but the scholar was an authority on the rise of the Empire. Edgar had gone to him shortly after his father's poisoning. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer went the old saying. He had learned much that seemed useless.

Now those tales of political maneuvering, power-plays within the military, and edicts granted to gain public support rushed back to the surface. One particular edict was at the forefront of his memories.

The Morality Crusade.

Locke cast a side-long glance at Edgar. He had a smug look on his face, telling Edgar he had expected that kind of reaction.

"Cyan, now is not the time for this! We have Setzer's life to consider!" Edgar quickly took control of the situation. He could not afford to let Siana and Cyan argue. The two were already exchanging insults at such a pace that he couldn't even distinguish individual barbs. Their screaming echoed throughout the house and gestures were of a culture that Edgar did not recognize. Cyan had been close to drawing his sword, so close that Sabin had already stood up. The way he stood though, Edgar wondered if Sabin was going to stop Cyan or help him.

"Either way," Locke interrupted the King's diplomacy. "If Relm travels with us, we can be brother and sister. Since Relm is there, they would not question that kind of relation. We would be just another family seeking refuge, our parents killed by the horrible monsters."

Siana nodded in approval. "That makes sense. There were quite a few families amongst the groups of refugees. It's unlikely you would be questioned."

Her endorsement did not give credibility to Locke's plan. Instead, it only aggravated Cyan. "I will not allow this!" he declared. His fist slammed down on the table, shaking everyone and leaving no doubt in Edgar's mind that a table of lesser quality would have folded like cardboard.

"Is there another way?" Surprisingly, it was Relm that spoke up. She had a serious look on her face that was directed at Cyan. After a minute, the glower on the Knight's face melted.

"I suppose not," Cyan conceded. "That doesn't make things any easier though, dear one."

Relm gave him an inquisitive look. "Why not? We have to save Setzer, don't we?"

Do we? Edgar wondered. He relaxed into his chair and pondered, confident that the possibility of violence had subsided.

Cyan frowned. It was obvious that he couldn't think of an answer he agreed with. "It's not that simple," he said at last. The authoritative answer of generations of fathers caught off guard by their children was his only resort.

"Why not?"

Cyan was defeated by the innocent retort of generations of children more clever than their father. The Knight shifted in his seat uncomfortably and desperately tried to think of an answer.

"Why Terra? Why not Siana?" Sabin asked as he glanced around the table for an answer. He had saved his friend, though at the same time, he had partially endorsed Locke's plan.

Edgar thought it was Locke that had made such a brainless comment. When he realized it was Sabin, he leveled his most incredulous stare at his brother. Are you stupid? His expression said.

"What?" Sabin raised his hands innocently.

Because she's an Imperial soldier, you nitwit! What happens if she betrays Locke and Relm so that she can get back in the Empire's good graces, you mindless buffoon! Do you even think before you ask these idiotic questions? Edgar felt his right-eye twitch uncontrollably. "We can't take the chance that someone in the Imperial ranks might recognize her," Edgar said instead. "It would be a bigger risk."

"Yeah, Davis said you were pretty well-known since you were piloting Magitek since Tzen's fall," Locke added confidently.

Siana narrowed her eyes. "I was barely old enough to join the academy when Tzen fell," she said incredulously.

Locke blinked. "I must have heard wrong... or something," he stammered, clearly embarrassed. "Either way, what about the plan?"

Edgar sighed. He could not argue against it. It was well reasoned and minimized the dangers that could befall them. Setzer's life depended on their actions. They really had no choice. Edgar looked at the green-haired half-Esper. "Terra," he said softly. "Do you think you can do this? It seems like the best way."

Terra looked down at the table and avoided their eyes. "I can try," she said softly.

Edgar nodded in defeat. "Alright Locke. We'll leave this in your hands. Remember to head to the market before you leave, your clothes right now don't fit the role of an older brother of a peasant family."

"We better head off as soon as we can then, I'll start filling our packs," Locke said as he stood up. "Terra, can you help me?"

She nodded.

Edgar sighed loudly. Sabin leaned against a wall with a frown on his face, and Cyan stormed out of the house red-faced. They were warriors. They had been trained for many things, but first and foremost they protected women and children. Now they stood idly on the side as Terra and Relm walked into danger. Their ineptitude was frustrating.

-=-

Edgar found Cyan behind Garrett's house. His sword was out, and he was making short work of his invisible opponents.

"Cyan," Edgar began. "I'd like to-"

"I do not wish to hear it, King Edgar," Cyan growled as he slashed downwards fiercely.

"Cyan, I don't like Locke's plan anymore than you do. But I see that it's the only way. Put aside your emotions and think this through!"

The Doma Knight had turned his attention to a large pine nearby. He kicked the trunk of the tree and sent leaves floating to the ground.

"Imperial troops would have arrested Locke and Terra, just like Siana said. We have no choice but to include Relm unless you think it's safer sending Locke on his own!"

Cyan had been cutting the air with his Doma-crafted blade, deftly cutting a number of leaves in half. Once there was nothing left to slice, he gestured at Edgar with his weapon. "It is ludicrous that they must travel in this mockery of a family. Your defense of that Imperial pilot's crazed reasoning was an insult to my honor."

"Her reasoning is a result of her conditioning. Cyan, you never studied the Empire like I did. You know nothing of it aside from its military arm," Edgar pointed back at Garrett's house. "Look at our ally here. Is it because of the Empire's soldiers that he assists us? There has always been other ways to bring the Empire to its knees. As the leader of my people, I learned what I could about the Empire. I'm sure your King also did the same."

Suddenly, Cyan swung his blade in a fast, powerful stroke. He almost spun full-circle. Cyan stopped as quickly as he started, his long black hair swung out and wrapped around his neck.

Edgar hadn't even noticed the path of Cyan's sword, but the pine's tree trunk had the telltale mark of a blade traveling through it. Cyan had cut the tree in half without knocking it over.

"You will not bring my liege into this blasphemy!" Cyan ordered angrily.

Edgar shook his head. "Listen to me. When Gestahl was young, he started something called the Morality Crusade. It was an Imperial rescript that ended up gaining him the adoration of nearly every citizen of the Empire. The only ones that weren't affected by his crusade were the nobles, and they aren't worth discussing."

"What does this have to do with anything, Edgar?"

Edgar shook his head sadly. "You're seeing the result now. The edict was made to crush what Gestahl had thought immoral traits. It criminalized the taking of multiple wives, prostitution, sex out of wedlock, the usage of certain addictive herbs, speaking ill of one's elders... it also reinforced certain habits within the populace. Marriage, family, and childbirth were heavily promoted. Education was free for children that showed promise as scholars or were willing to serve in the military. It even spearheaded the growth of their army in order to wipe out the monster menace. For all intents and purposes, it was a wonderful decree."

Cyan had calmed down. "And this is what Siana was quoting," he said.

Edgar smiled. "You noticed it too?"

"'twas was obvious she spoke from rote."

Edgar nodded. "The Imperial education system churns out soldiers that are far worse than her though. Most don't even think things through. I don't know how much Sabin told you about Marcus and Siana, but we had a real bad argument many weeks back. Even so-called Special Forces like those two have difficulty questioning their superiors."

"An admirable trait, though incredibly dangerous," it was the soldier in Cyan that spoke. "The Empire's treachery runs deep, corrupting even children. It is a vile plague that must be removed from this world. But perhaps I spoke ill of its citizens. I had not known such things."

"I knew, but forgot about it. Imperial history isn't exactly useful when fighting a war," Edgar explained. "I learned most of this when I was a child. My father had always followed the old saying: keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. He wanted me to learn as much as I could about the Empire."

"A forward-thinking man, he must have known of the Empire's evils long before they had appeared," Cyan concluded. "I only met your father once, and that was in my youth. He was a great man. I recall that he ended an old blood feud between two of the most powerful nobilities within our Kingdoms."

Edgar sighed. "Yes, father was a great diplomat."

"His son has done no worse."

Edgar made eye-contact with Cyan. The Doma Knight did not look like he was lying. "I drew my people into a war we could not win," the King of Figaro said regretfully. "I failed to send help to Doma because I was afraid of breaking my so-called alliance with the Empire. My meddling saw Narshe come under attack by an Imperial Magitek division. My truce with the Empire was a farce, and I am intimately connected with the massive destruction that the Floating Continent has wreaked upon the world," his shoulders shook with shame. "I am a failure, Cyan."

Cyan was silent for a moment, waiting for Edgar to continue his rant. When no more seemed forthcoming, Cyan sheathed his sword and spoke powerfully. "King Edgar, your hubris has no bounds if you think all those events is your fault."

Edgar opened his mouth, but had nothing to say.

"You would do well to heed your own advice, King Edgar."

-=-

For Edgar, the week passed by quickly despite having little to do other than wait patiently. Since Locke, Terra and Relm had left for Tzen, the four of them ended up fighting over the guest rooms. The fight was short lived though; Cyan was quite explicit that he would have his own room and no one would deny Siana hers. That left Edgar and Sabin to continue a traditional rivalry between brothers.

Edgar ended up with the room and Sabin the couch. Sabin had his freedom, Edgar surmised. The least he could do was to give a king his bed.

During the daytime, Sabin spent his time mediating in the forests. Cyan usually stayed in his room in deliberation, occasionally leaving to practice his swordplay. He had a lot of frustration to let out. Edgar worried about the Doma Knight. Cyan was a smart man, but he often let his emotions get the better of him. Things would deteriorate quickly, especially if the Empire was involved. They couldn't afford any situations in Nestil, not until Strago and Setzer had recovered. Edgar found himself often accompanying Cyan during his practices, even sparring with the elder knight.

Edgar's arm had finally healed; Kenneth had checked it over and gave him an ointment for the itching. Afterwards, Garrett had forged a new spear for Edgar. He had the money and Garrett had the time. The spear created was even better than the one Edgar had lost during the airship crash, mainly because he had a hand in the creation. The weight was almost perfectly balanced and the craftsmanship better than any Figarian blacksmith's. It didn't help against Cyan though. The Doma Knight could overpower him with little effort, outwitted him instinctively, and overwhelmed him with the sheer number of blows. The distraction was a great break from other unsolved issues.

One such issue had been avoided. Siana stayed in Garrett's house without needing to be asked. That was extremely fortunate. Edgar didn't know if he had the tact required to ask such a thing without showing his distrust of the Imperial pilot. It was a couple days after Locke, Terra and Relm departed that this situation would change. Garrett approached them in the morning and asked if they could do some shopping for him. He had been generously offering food from his cupboards and now they were empty. Siana offered to go to the market that afternoon.

Edgar approached his brother the moment Siana had been out of earshot. "Sabin, go with her to the market," he said.

Sabin glared, annoyed at Edgar's attitude. "No," he stated flatly.

"Sabin, don't be so stubborn," Edgar growled. He knew that Sabin and Siana had a tedious relationship that could be best described as mutual dislike, but he couldn't send Cyan. While the knight had calmed down after their discussion, Cyan was still dangerous where the Empire was in question. "I need you to keep an eye on her."

"Do it yourself," Sabin retorted. "I've dealt with her for the past month, now it's your turn."

Edgar's eye twitched. He signed loudly. "Sabin, I don't need this right now."

"Well brother, I'm sick of the Imperial and I'm sick of your orders. You're being selfish and I'm not going to just back down and let you have everything your way."

"Is that what you think this is? Another one of our little sibling rivalries?" Edgar asked. "Did being in the mountains for the last ten years prevent you from growing up?"

Sabin folded his muscular arms for effect. "Give me one good reason why I, instead of you, should tolerate that woman any longer than necessary."

Edgar smiled confidently. "Because you kept her company for the last month. You know her better than me or Cyan, so you can 'protect' her better than we can."

"That is absolutely-"

"-correct," Edgar interrupted. "I don't trust Siana as much as I trusted Celes... yet. But I don't want her to know that. If I follow her around, it'll look worse than if you did."

Sabin was speechless.

"I'm glad you see it my way."

-=-

[Elessar]

Sabin carried four heavy paper bags in one hand. Each contained enough groceries to feed a family for weeks, since Edgar had suggested they should not skimp on the costs. After all, they had owed Garrett a great deal for his help. Filling his pantry was just a small favor among the many necessary in order to fully repay him. However, Sabin was rather annoyed at his role.

"I don't see the point of buying so much," he grumbled.

Siana spun around and gave him an annoyed sneer. "I didn't ask you to come. But since you wouldn't back down, then you might as well make yourself useful."

"I told you, I'm here to protect you," Sabin repeated his brother's lies. "That's going to be difficult when my hands are busy carrying enough food to feed a thousand people."

"Protect, right. Because I need babysitting from you," Siana growled sarcastically. She gestured at him rudely and turned back to the shops.

The market was packed. It was uncommon for a small town like Nestil to have its streets filled with people. However, these were not normal times. Nestil's main street had at least four-hundred wandering about. Each day that passed had seen more people abandoning the smaller villages nearby and fleeing to Nestil seeking the protection of the Empire.

The Imperials seemed to be surprised by the development. They had not the manpower to police such a large group and ended up allowing the townsfolk to create a sanctioned militia. The militiamen took on the role of watching the great crowds in the marketplace. They stayed on alert since torches were lighting the streets; it was possible for one errant drunk to burn down the entire town.

Sabin followed Siana around, looking into the stores every so often with a bit of interest. Spending years in the wilderness had given him a great deal of appreciation for the art of cooking. Preparation was the key to any good dish and that started at the marketplace. He gazed at the displays of various fresh meats chilled in buckets of ice. Some were quite fresh. Sabin was especially impressed by a huge boar that hung in one of the displays. His mouth watered at the thought of the beast slowly roasted over a campfire. That boar could satisfy ten men alone without any additional side dishes.

They wove their way through the thick crowd. It seemed like at least thirty more stores had sprung up in the last few days. Many barely qualified as stores; they were nothing more than hastily erected tents and some tables within displaying wares. Many of them had quality goods to buy though, and certainly there was no lack of interest from the immense crowd. Near a particularly popular stand, a fight had broken out between two men. They had pummeled each other for a minute and some in the crowd had even joined in before Imperial soldiers showed up and restored order. Sabin apprehensively noted that it wouldn't take much for a riot to break-out. It was indeed dangerous here, the militiamen seemed powerless to stop the fighting and that meant Imperials would be on their toes.

They passed three more fruit and vegetable stands and Siana gave him yet another bag to carry. Sabin scowled at her but she paid him no heed and returned to the stores. Siana noticed a couple more shady dealers hanging on the side of the road. She even recognized some of the things they sold; her military career had given her plenty of exposure to such concoctions. The one most of hawkers had for sale was Alcatef. A fellow pilot had been caught using the stuff before. Made from a plant that readily grew in the grasslands, it was highly addictive and very illegal in the Empire.

When she was fresh out of the academy, Siana had been put on patrols to fight the sale of Alcatef. She had never been suited for life as a foot soldier though and managed to transfer into Magitek maintenance instead. Still, the urge to arrest and throw scum like those dealers into jail was almost overwhelming. She told herself to calm down and ignore them. After all, it wasn't uncommon for people to have the stuff. It was a crime, but the Empire just didn't have the manpower to crack down on all the sellers these days. Unfortunate, Alcatef twisted people that used it.

They passed by a small charms store, one that caught Siana's interest. She told Sabin to wait while she headed inside.

"This is definitely not what Garrett asked for," he told her angrily.

"Then leave! I'm going in and I don't care what you do!" Siana snapped back.

To her surprise, Sabin turned his back. "Enough of this," though he said it under his breath, it was easily audible.

Siana growled a few choice curses at the rebel's back. They were words that no lady should ever know, but she had been in the Corps and that meant she was no lady. Her mother would have been shamed.

The charms shop was one of the original stores in Nestil. It was actually a building, with prepared displays and properly labeled goods. Half of the tables were empty though; Siana assumed it was because of the sudden increase in shoppers.

The store itself was crowded. There were quite a few people browsing the various aisles. Siana made her way to the trinket that caught her attention earlier, careful not to knock anything. The aisles were quite narrow and her cloak tended to take up far more room than her body did.

The trinket was a beautiful necklace. She wished Marcus was around since he would know if the silver metal was actually silver. With that thought, she felt a renewed pang of loss. She missed him. It had barely been a month, nowhere near enough time for her to get over the loss of such a close comrade. She shook her head, trying to force the unpleasant thoughts out of her mind. Instead, she admired the stone in the center of the necklace. It was a polished blue hue, not a gem, but some sort of rare rock. She didn't recognize it, but it looked perfect set amidst finely crafted metalwork.

Siana brought the necklace to the shopkeeper and asked how much it cost.

"Thirty gil," the shopkeeper replied. She pointed to the intricately carved design around the stone. "It's said that those designs come from ancient-"

"Sure," Siana cut the woman off. It was a good price and there was no need for the shopkeeper to convince her anymore. She paid for the item and turned around.

A man wearing a hooded cloak was directly behind her, unusual since it was a charms store. Most men would never be caught dead inside such a place. Even more unusual was the huge bulk he took up. It was a soldier, Siana knew that instantly. What was a soldier doing here?

She thanked the storekeeper and pulled her hood up. Trying not to make eye contact with the bulky man, Siana carefully pushed her way past.

His arm grasped her shoulder.

"Pilot First-Class Siana Deardon."

Siana turned, a lump growing in her throat.

The soldier pulled off his hood, revealing an unkempt beard and messy dark hair. "You have forgotten me already?"

"Godric..." Siana stammered in complete shock.

"What are you doing here?" Godric asked her. The Magitek pilot narrowed his black eyes in suspicion.

Siana's eyes darted outside. Sabin was gone, thankfully. She looked back at Godric, almost praying that he would be gone and it was all just a product of her imagination. That didn't happen, he was still there.

She cursed under her breath. Of all the people to meet in some pathetic little backwater village like Nestil, it just had to be him. Godric was a fellow pilot in her former company. Even worse than that, Siana had worked with him in Doma; he had been lead and she one of the wings. Her pulse raced upon seeing his familiar face. She had come up with a lie or something plausible.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted out.

"Don't throw questions back at me," Godric scowled. He was getting angrier. "I know the rumors about you; don't tell me that they're actually true."

Of course there would be rumors that she deserted. She had been quite well known for her piloting skills. Her disappearance after Michals had approached her for help saving General Chere from the Returners would have been known. Rumors in the Magitek Corps tended to spread like wildfire whether they were true or not. Right now, she needed something to say that was believable -- a fib to patch this over and get Godric off her back. She needed more time though. She had never expected to have to deal with anyone who knew her personally, much less a former wingman.

"I can explain," she started, her mind spinning as she tried to delay him.

His hand gripped her shoulder tightly; Godric was preventing her from running. "I suggest you start talking now," he said. His voice carried with it a dangerous threat.

Siana gritted her teeth. "Get your hands off of me," she growled.

His grip loosened slightly. "Talk," he ordered.

"No. Not here," Siana answered. She gestured at around them.

The entire store had grown quiet. Nearly every single person was frozen in place; they were frightened by the Imperial soldier.

Godric glanced around. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled at the storekeeper. "Get out!" he screamed.

The woman's face went white. She scrambled from behind the counter and ran outside as soon as possible, behind the crowd of customers that knew better than to test the patience of an Imperial soldier. There was a commotion outside and some screaming. Then everyone filed out of the doorway and in walked the source of the commotion.

"Captain," the Imperial that had walked in was another pilot, Siana noted.

"Cade," Godric acknowledged. "We seem to have caught a deserter here."

"The Corps deals with its own," Cade acknowledged.

Siana didn't recognize Cade, but it was obvious that Godric had been exploring the market with one of his wingmen. She noted with disdain that Godric had been promoted to Captain at some point; that made things even more difficult. In all likelihood, he would be the commanding officer in Nestil. The blade hidden in her boot beckoned, but even if she managed to kill both pilots, their disappearance would be instantly noticed. Siana cursed her luck.

This was, after all, her worst nightmare. There had been others, but this was as bad as it got. Ever since they had returned to Imperial territory, Siana had been trying to figure out what she would do. She didn't know if she had been declared a deserter. If she had been branded, then she was up for a court-martial and a trip to the noose. That had made going back to the Corps almost impossible, if it had even been a choice ever since General Chere had explained to them what the Emperor had been planning.

"What are you doing here?" Godric repeated his question.

She hadn't answered the question then and she didn't intend on answering it now.

"It doesn't look like she intends on talking," Cade mused. The pilot -- First Class like her -- was a tad shorter than Godric. The two were, for the most part, unthreatening. While Godric was an imposing man, he didn't have the size of a real warrior. Still, his Imperial uniform peaked out from beneath the standard soldier's cloak he wore. It was a constant reminder of the real problem at hand.

Siana knew she had to find out how much the two men knew. It could have been a chance meeting, but Siana doubted that. They had confronted her almost immediately after Sabin departed, and in a charms store no less. The thought of Godric in a charms store was laughable.

They had been following her. The question was how long they had been following.

"Godric, cut the useless chatter," Siana replied to her former wingman. She took a deep breath and regained her composure. "You want to arrest me? You might as well execute me now, since my court-martial will last as long as it takes them to sign the papers."

"You know I don't want that," Godric growled back.

"The straight-arrow is going against the rules?" Siana teased. "How unexpected of you."

"It really does look like you have a death wish," Godric sighed. "Listen, you're not the type to just abandon your post. You might bend the rules, but you don't break them. You rarely even talk back to your commanding officer!" He looked her up and down. "How long did we serve together in the ISF?"

"Not long enough for you to look the other way, I'd suppose," Siana replied.

Godric gestured to Cade. "What kind of commander would I be if I did such a thing?"

"The kind that respects his former subordinates," Siana retorted.

"Well that's rather difficult when you're accompanying a Returner!" Godric snapped.

Siana was almost relieved. It was about time that Godric took the bait and showed that he had the upper-hand. She put on her best surprised look for his sake.

"I saw the man you were with. He looked different. The hair wasn't exactly the same as I remember. But there you were in Nestil, weeks away from your proper post in Albrook, accompanying one of the most wanted men in the Empire!" Godric was irate. He was practically screaming, hands waving in the air wildly as he spoke. "It wasn't as if you were being led around, a prisoner or something. You were walking about freely, capable of turning in the rebel at anytime."

Returner. Rebel. Both singular. Siana made sure the look of relief didn't show on her face.

"So what's going on, PFC Deardon? Did you think desertion wasn't enough of a criminal act and you decided to settle for nothing less than execute-on-sight-high-treason?"

"Captain, we should bring her in for questioning. I'm sure the Major would be interested, or we could ship her to Tzen," Cade pointed out.

"Siana, I'm waiting for answer," Godric ignored Cade. "Why are you traveling with the Figarian King?"

Siana was caught off guard for a moment, and then burst into laughter.

Godric and Cade shared a look.

"Looks like the promotion you think you're getting won't happen," Siana laughed. She pointed at Godric. "I'm not traveling with any king. The man's name is Sabin. Remember that."

"What do you think I am, a fool? I've seen the posters," Godric growled back, not at all pleased with the way he was being treated. "And you will remember your place here!"

"I'm already walking-dead," Siana retorted. "And yes, you are a fool. Sabin is the King of Figaro's twin brother. I suppose you didn't realize that because it was in writing and you were busy looking at the picture of the pretty blond man. Didn't your last Captain put down a letter of reprimand on your record because you kept looking at maps instead of reading the briefings?"

Godric smashed his hand against a shelf, knocking it to the ground with a crash. "You disrespectful little traitor!" he shouted, enraged. "Cade! Bind her!" he ordered. He turned back to Siana. "We're going on a little journey, Deardon. I expect you'll be a little more cooperative when you're in chains and the whip strikes," he sneered.

Cade drew his knife and walked up to Siana carefully, but she put her hands out and purposefully rolled her eyes. Cade snatched the necklace out of her hands; Siana had totally forgotten about it.

"This will make a nice gift for my girlfriend," he sneered. Siana did her best to suppress her anger as Cade slipped it into his pocket and pulled out a piece of rope.

"I'm sure when we get through interrogating you and Sabin, we'll have the locations of all the Returners. How far you've fallen, Siana," Godric said.

"Don't make me laugh," Siana replied with as much bravado as she could muster. "I'm only traveling with Sabin out of convenience. When we parted ways, it was just that. You'll never find him again. You should have followed him instead of me, although I guess he would have easily beaten both of you. You were never much of a warrior anyways."

His palm caught her by surprise; the sudden blow to her cheek knocked her back a step. Siana spat the metallic taste out of her mouth and turned her angriest glare on Godric.

"I don't even know anything about the Returners," she growled. "I met Sabin in the forest, he helped guide me back here so that I could get some supplies and that was it; the full extent of his involvement. I barely even get along with him. Of course since you were following me, you would have already known that we aren't exactly friends."

The look on Godric's face was priceless. Siana could tell that he had never made the connection. As Marcus had told her a long time ago, the truth, selectively told, worked better than any lie.

Godric remained silent until Cade had finished the job. The three exited the charms shop, Godric leading, Siana in the middle with her hands bound, and Cade bringing up the rear. The owner was standing outside and shrank away when Godric glared at her.

They walked through the market at swift pace. The crowds parted away when they saw an angry Imperial soldier storming through. Only a fool would get in an Imperial's way and there were two that actually did, too drunk to notice. Those two were roughly thrown to the ground by a furious pilot. No one else made the same mistake again.

Siana grinned to herself. Godric was predictable as usual. By bringing up his bad habits and embarrassments, it had angered him. As usual, Godric made mistakes when emotional; the chief of which was having some green straight-from-the-academy pilot tie her hands. She flexed them now, knowing it was loose enough for her to strike when the chance arose. It had been obvious to her that Cade had never had field experience as a grunt, like she did. Even the short period of time she had spent arresting Alcatef dealers had taught her a few things, such as how to properly tie a woman's hands together.

As they continued through the market, Siana noticed they were passing the shop with the roast boar. Her mental map of the area told her she was rapidly running out of time. She would have to make due with whatever surprise her suddenly untied hands would offer rather than-

Interrupting her train of thought, a sudden cheer came from the crowd ahead. There were a few additional cries, and then the unmistakable sound of fists.

It was her chance.

Godric had stormed ahead, happy for the distraction as it meant he could take out his anger on the brawlers. As he stormed forward, he didn't realize how quickly the fight was degenerating. A few errant blows, shoving between the audience, and people were suddenly beating on each other without reservations. "Stop this immediately!" he shouted with as much strength as he could. He was an Imperial soldier. He would bring order to this situation.

An elbow caught him in the face.

Behind him several dozen paces, Siana quickly spun around. The rope around her hands was now only around her left, and her right hand was bunched up in a fist. Cade had been busy watching Godric, and the surprise on his face never even registered.

Sabin's fist met Cade's face with celerity. Cade was not a small man, but Sabin was easily half a head taller and dozens of pounds heavier. He had been running at full speed, urged by overwhelming need. His momentum allowed him to crush Cade's nose instantly, the Imperial pilot crashing into the ground already unconscious.

Siana's mouth dropped in surprise.

Sabin was not even breathing hard. He glared at the inert body of Cade, watching him for any possible movements.

Siana quickly recovered and grabbed Cade's knife. Without a second thought, she sheathed it in his heart.

"You-"

Siana tried to pull the knife out, but it was stuck. She cursed and instead drew the one hidden in her boot. With relish she ripped open his pocket and retrieved her necklace. She turned to Sabin, who had a look of surprise on his face. That look quickly changed to disgust.

"Come on, we need to get Godric!" she pointed into the rioting crowd.

Sabin frowned. "I will not help you murder and rob another defenseless man," he growled.

"He already knows about you, you stubborn idiot!" Siana found herself smiling when he saw the look of embarrassment on his face. That had taken the self-righteous fool down a notch. "We need to shut him up now!"

Sabin cursed and turned back. The riot was huge now, over a dozen people were fighting and more were joining in the havoc. Those that weren't beating on each other had decided to use the chaos to loot the stands, and that drew even the shopkeepers into the fray.

And just at the fringe were a group of six Imperial soldiers. Four had iron quarterstaffs, but two had drawn their swords. They were shouting and wading into the crowd with deadly intent.

"Too late," Sabin cursed. He grabbed her shirt. "We have to go, now!"

It hit her. Sabin hadn't been coincidentally there and certainly the riot wasn't one of chance. Siana looked at Sabin in disbelief when she realized why her comment had embarrassed him so much. "You started the riot and didn't kill him while you had the chance?" she asked incredulously.

"Now is not the time!" Sabin growled.

Siana shook her head. "You idiot," she whispered.

Sabin pulled her down an alleyway and they disappeared into the crowds of Nestil.

-=-

Locke cleared his throat.

The Imperial soldier looked him over again, his brow wrinkled in suspicion. "Well I don't like the way you're looking at me, but I'm feeling gracious today," he said. He looked over his shoulder, searching for something. "My commander isn't here either, so it looks like what I say goes. I'll let you pass."

Locke gave a nod of his head. "Thanks," he said. He wondered if the soldier was actually suspicious. The Imperial had examined everyone else in the exact same manner.

They were at the entrance to the city of Tzen. Everything before them was heavily guarded: the stone walls looked formidable and brimmed with eagle-eyed archers while the gates themselves had nearly a dozen men standing at guard. They were not normal soldiers, but some sort of elite squadron. Their plate mail was uncommon for Imperials, as were the dozens of different weapons on their persons. Judging from the facial scars on most of the men, Locke doubted the weapons were for show.

Locke, Terra and Relm stood on one of the few bridges leading into the walled city. The soldier in front was dressed in more familiar brown leather armor with an equally familiar grey cloak over top. He handed Locke back his knife. They were at the head of a long line; one they had waited in for more than half a day. He had wondered why the line seemed so slow, but there was no need to wonder anymore. The guard liked to chat with nearly every single person that wanted into the city.

All citizens were required to line up for entrance into Tzen, aside from military personnel and several others with special badges. The number of badge-holders was extremely small though, as evidenced by the long line of various peoples of the Empire waiting.

Tents had encircled the great city and multiplied like rabbits with every passing day. Refugees were fleeing to Tzen in huge flocks, camping outside since they could not afford to stay within the city walls. Everyone wanted to be near the vast military might of the Empire. Certainly there was protection aplenty, even if they camped at the very edge of the city. Those tents stretched on for miles and miles and had thousands of soldiers safeguarding them. Locke had never seen anything like it.

Their journey to Tzen had been relatively smooth; they were not attacked by monsters. The roads had been packed with pilgrims though, singing praise for the Empire during the whole journey. There were at least two dozen of rich backgrounds traveling explicitly to camp outside the city walls.

It was utter insanity.

The guard looked behind Locke. "And these two are your sisters, correct? It must have been a dangerous trip if you had to protect these two."

Locke nodded. "Yes, we've been traveling for a while now. It would be nice to settle down and not have to fear the monsters any longer," he despised the words he said but nearly every refugee they had encountered had spoken of the Empire's benevolent protection. He put on his most innocent face and tried not to puke.

The guard's eyes wandered over Terra. Her green hair had been bleached and dyed to a more natural golden-yellow. They had also cut her hair so that it was no longer partway down her back. It hung, just shy of her neckline, in an unkempt but alluring fashion. The end result was quite astonishing. Terra had always been quite attractive, but as a blond she was mesmerizing. Her deep blue eyes seemed to match the new hair color perfectly. She turned heads everywhere even in the pathetic rags they bought in the Nestil market.

Locke had dyed his own hair as well, turning it a shade of yellow to match Terra's. Relm's hair was already blond, so they did not need to dye her hair. They almost looked like a family. Relm's eyes had a similar shade of blue as Terra's so the two easily looked like sisters. Locke's own brown eyes did not blend in as well, but most of the soldiers had paid attention to Terra and Relm.

"It's a shame that a child so young has to run from monsters," the guard said. He lowered to one knee, rubbing Relm's hair in the process. "Don't worry little one, the Empire will protect you now."

Locke rolled his eyes while no one was looking. "We came here so we could stop running, but there seems to be a lot of people," Locke gestured to the fields of tents. "How can the army protect so many? I mean, you can't fit everyone inside the city."

The soldier stood back up. He still looked at Relm with a grin on his face while he answered Locke's question. "The Imperial Army can protect everyone nearby, there's no need to worry about that. We have a great number of sentries on the outskirts. Not a single monster will make it in sight of the tents before we know about it, and not a single monster will make it much further than that. If they attack in great numbers, then the Magitek squadrons will quickly exterminate them."

"That does sound pretty impressive," Locke lied.

"Impressive would be the Magitek armors farther south," the soldier said with a wistful sigh. "Those great machines could burn through a thousand monsters with a single blast. However, the ones here are still quite powerful; you can sleep well as long as we still draw breath."

"That's good to hear. We should head inside then, to see if there are any accommodations," Locke said.

"Find? You won't find anything now," the soldier chuckled. "All the inns have been packed for weeks, ever since the Long Night began. Even now that the clouds have broken up slightly, I doubt it will change the availability of rooms."

Locke frowned. "Then why would so many line up?"

"To shop of course," the soldier said. He seemed annoyed at Locke's question, as if the answer should have been obvious. "The marketplace stretches for many miles and is much safer to buy goods from than those traveling salesmen that circle the tents. I would avoid those travelers; you never know what you're really buying."

"Of course, thank you for the advice," Locke said as he walked past. "Come on girls, let's go inside the city."

Terra was holding Relm's hand when the soldier took a step forward. The Imperial soldier ended up between Locke and Terra.

"If you need a place to stay," the soldier stared into Terra's blue eyes. "You're more than welcome to find me tonight," he said. "I will be at the Bull's Hearth three hours before curfew." He took her hand and kissed it in a gallant fashion. "I would be honored to show you some of the finer pleasures that Tzen has to offer."

Terra looked uncomfortable. "Thank you," she stammered, unsure of what to say.

Locke was irritated. The soldier was disregarding all the unspoken rules of flirting. Here he was, barely two feet away, and the man was approaching his sister. Even if it was just an act, this was still grounds for brotherly-protection. The soldier was abusing his power as an Imperial officer. "Come on Sarah," he said. "Let's go."

Terra walked by the soldier, the man's hungry gaze following her across the bridge.

-=-

"Stupid corrupt Imperials," Locke grumbled as they made their way through the streets of Tzen. "You're more than welcome to find me tonight," he said in a mockery of the soldier's voice.

Relm giggled. "That's a funny impression," she said.

Locke rolled his eyes. "No less funny that the guard's face, right Sarah?"

Even amongst themselves, they tried to keep from addressing each other by their real names. Aliases had been devised long before they left Nestil, although Relm had decided to change hers shortly after they reached Cartha. Even after a week, there were plenty of times when Locke was about to say their real names, only to sheepishly change it at the last moment.

Terra didn't respond to his joke, as usual.

Locke sighed. He had hoped bringing Terra on a relatively lighthearted trip would brighten her mood. But the opposite had happened; she had just gotten more depressed. In the past, she had put on a charade for Relm. Now she didn't try to look happy.

Tzen was packed, just as the guard had warned them. The streets were completely full, dozens of people on the sidewalks at all times while chocobo-drawn carts passed by on the cobblestone roads. At times, trying to walk through the crowd was like trying to swim upstream. People kept pushing them back and each time made their way past one obstacle, another took its place in the constant flow.

They walked by dozens of warehouses, all filled with machinery and undergoing modifications that would turn them into factories. Locke seemed to recognize a few of the machines, including some cranes. They passed by six more buildings, completed factories that were pumping great gouts of steam from their smokestacks. Finally they made it to the market, a huge bustling place of commerce that put every other town to shame. It seemed like thousands were in the streets. The stores were filled with people; the promenade was bristling with vendors and hawkers of all shapes and sizes, trying to pitch some of the craziest wares imaginable. Although there were a lot more peddlers in Tzen, Locke noticed a lack of the shadier merchants. Unlike the other towns they had passed by, there were no dealers here. At least the Empire had done something right in one of their major cities; Alcatef was horrible drug that was in widespread use. Locke knew a few sympathizers that were totally addicted to it. It was easier to lose oneself in a haze of fantasia than to fight for real change.

The three of them held hands, to ensure they would not get split up in the huge crowd, as they searched for a suitable herb store. Kenneth had suggested they avoided anything cheap, which meant nothing other than a storefront would be suitable. Although Locke had no qualms buying from the stands of traveling businessman, the doctor was quite insistent that nothing other than the best would be acceptable. Considering Setzer's life hung in the balance, Locke did not argue.

Locke was surprised that some of the stores still had goods for sale. It seemed with so many people in the streets, all the shops would have long since been bought out. The storekeepers must have been busy securing supplies and goods to sell. He could see why there were so many vendors though; business was booming despite the preposterous prices. Locke assumed that because the clouds had broken up somewhat, people were willing to spend their life's savings on good cheer.

There were a lot of soldiers in the market. Many were buying merchandise, probably soldiers on their break time having a little fun. Others were chasing girls, and there were certainly no shortage of pretty women willing to entertain them. Locke found his eyes following the finer variety on more than one occasion. But most of the soldiers were actually on duty. Some stood guard near the city lights, probably guarding what was still the primary source of illumination in Tzen. Others watched over the market and got involved whenever a small scuffle would occur. Locke knew that in conditions this crowded, a riot could happen at any moment. The Imperial men made sure that didn't happen.

The herb shop they found was across from a stage of performers. Some brave theater band had decided to perform in the middle of the mob. They drew a great crowd as they danced to an upbeat tune. Locke did not recognize the play but he rarely had anything to do with the performing arts. The only play he had ever seen was the one Celes participated in, back in the Opera House so many months ago.

The inside of the store was quiet. A glance around told Locke the reason, the shop was almost empty of all wares. Locke walked up to the balding storekeeper and inquired about Kenneth's herb. The old man was quite kind but of course they did not have it. The old storekeeper apologized. His store had been quite full earlier, but a great rush in the morning had sold out many of the more popular herbs. As for the rest, a couple soldiers had bought a great deal only an hour or two before. They always bought herbs in great quantities, so the storekeeper felt bad about not being sufficiently prepared. A truly successful businessman would have been able to sell for the entire day, he said. Locke bid the man good day and thanked him for his help. He turned around and explained the situation to Terra and Relm. Terra did not mind exploring Tzen for the afternoon and Relm was enjoying herself. She had been born in Thamasa, a village so small that everyone knew everyone else's names. A city like Tzen was just astounding to her. Just the marketplace alone had more people than she had ever seen in her ten years of life.

They walked back outside and into the great crowd.

Locke felt extremely uncomfortable near so many Imperials. Although it had been his idea and he had great trust in his own plans, it seemed like they were tempting fate. Fortunately, no one had recognized Terra. Though to Locke's dismay, quite a few of the soldiers did notice her. They just noticed her in ways that he did not like. Their hungry looks were dangerous; both for Terra's safety and their attempts to keep a low profile.

They walked around town for another hour, going in circles a few times simply because the crowd forced them. Locke had grown tired from pushing his way through the mob and was about to suggest they take a rest inside one of the many restaurants. While he was looking for a proper place for them to rest though, they noticed the second herb store.

The store was devoid of people, despite the fact that the shelves was completely overflowing with plants and leaves of all colors. Locke was assaulted by the scent of concentrated herbs, a fragrance that he despised. He suppressed the unpleasant memories and decided to hurry so they could leave as quickly as possible.

Since the entire store was empty, the attractive red-haired storekeeper was more than happy to assist them. Locke gave the woman, perhaps Edgar's age, Kenneth's description of the herb.

"Ah, that. I have that in storage," she said.

As the woman headed for the backroom, Locke watched her form in admiration. After the storekeeper was out of sight, he turned back to Relm and Terra. The two girls had not noticed his source of distraction, instead looking at the myriad of herbs that were available on display.

"I've never seen anything like this," Terra was saying. She picked up a few dried leaves with puffy undersides.

"I have, grandpa used to bring this all the time. It's an aumen leaf," Relm pointed to a green sprig that Terra had been looking at.

"That's a pretty good eye you have there, little miss," the storekeeper had returned with a small box in hand. She left the box -- Setzer's only hope for life -- on the counter and knelt so that she was eye to eye with Relm. "Do you like herbs as well?" she asked.

Relm nodded. "Gramps used to take me on walks in the forest all the time. He would point out all sorts of things to me," she smiled widely. "I know all sorts of plants now, like this aumen leaf, and these motherworts," she pointed at yet another plant on display.

The shopkeeper grinned. "That's really nice. I wish I had someone as talented as you to help me out," she said.

Relm beamed.

Locke cleared his throat. He had opened the box and checked the plant on the inside; it matched Kenneth's description exactly. His fingers ran down the sides of the stems as he followed Kenneth's verification procedure. When he was satisfied, he closed the box. "How much is this?" Locke asked. He wanted to leave Tzen as soon as possible. For some reason, this was making him edgy.

The shopkeeper stood up. "Four hundred gil," she said. "It's quite difficult to get these days, and-"

Locke opened his wallet, taking out the money without haggling. "Here, four hundred," he said.

The shopkeeper looked surprised. "My, you're in a hurry but thanks for your business." She took their money and walked back around the counter.

Locke nodded. "Thanks for your help lady," he said waved his hand in appreciation. "Let's go."

"Wait," the shopkeeper had retrieved a small pouch of roots. "What's your name?" she asked Relm.

Relm looked at Locke, who nodded his approval.

"Aria," Relm said. The name she picked was certainly an exotic one.

The shopkeeper gave Locke a quizzical glance.

"I told her not to talk to strangers too much," Locke lied.

"Ah," The red haired woman replied as she looked behind him. "I seem to have more customers. Sorry, I can't play with you any longer Aria. I wanted to see if you knew what these are," she pointed at the bag in her hand.

Locke turned around and froze.

Three extremely large men had just walked in. They were wearing cloaks, otherwise the armor they wore underneath would be plainly visible -- Imperial soldiers. The two larger ones stayed quite far behind the one in the lead.

Probably the ones that had bought out the balding shopkeeper earlier that day, Locke noted. He wondered what soldiers needed so many herbs for as he turned back to Relm and Terra. Relm was staring at the pouch in the shopkeeper's hand, the two whispering names of plant roots to each other. "Come on Aria, let's not waste the nice shopkeeper's time anymore," he said.

Relm looked up at Locke. "Ok big brother," she said with a big smile on her face.

"Locke Cole."

Locke felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He ignored the soldier, pretending that the man was addressing his own comrades.

"You in the brown cloak, Locke."

Locke looked back at the man, he was being addressed now. His heart was beating and he could feel a drop of sweat running down his back. "I'm sorry, were you talking to me? I think you have me confused," he said with his best impression of a peasant afraid of an Imperial soldier. The impression was not hard, he was already scared.

The man pulled down his hood. His hair, shaven smooth on top, seemed strangely familiar. His brown eyes were sharp, like a predator's.

"Locke Cole," he continued without faltering. "Your hair is a different color, but that's acceptable."

Locke's arm strayed to the dagger he kept hidden by his hips. This was a dangerous situation, but his heart was only speeding up in anticipation. He had survived worse problems before. He could handle this. He had to handle this. Terra and Relm depended on him. They had no plans in place for contingency situations.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Relm screamed.

Locke's eyes darted to the shopkeeper. His body froze in shock.

The woman had pulled a knife from behind the counter. Locke felt his blood boil as he watched the shopkeeper lift Relm off the ground, the blade only inches from Relm's neck. He pulled his blade free of its concealing sheath.

"You-" Terra started. Her eyes were wide in surprise, her arm halfway out in the motion of a spell.

"Don't!" the woman threatened. "If you move again Terra, she-" the woman motioned at Relm, "-dies."

Locke felt goose bumps down his back. The woman knew Terra's name. Suddenly, he realized what had happened.

They had been tricked.

"There are only two ways out of this, Locke," the woman continued. "In the first case, this little girl's throat is slit, then you die, and then Terra dies. The second case, you will drop the dagger and the two of you will come with me peacefully."

Locke's eyes checked the door. The two men there were at ease, but they looked ready to cut him down the moment he moved. His heart pounded until he was dizzy, his world spinning as he struggled to think of a course of action.

The other man, standing only a couple feet from him, had his cloak hooked back behind his scabbard.

This was bad.

"You're running out of time," the woman warned. The knife was ever closer to Relm's neck.

This was really bad.

With all eyes concentrated on Locke, no one noticed Terra's right arm moving up and pointing at the woman.

At least, no one but the shopkeeper herself.

Before Terra even whispered the first word of a spell, the knife was a breath away from Relm's neck. Relm was terrified; her eyes were concentrated on the blade that threatened to end her life. Cold metal pressed against her smooth skin and drew a single drop of blood at the point.

"Have you ever seen a child die in front of your eyes, Terra?" the woman asked. Her voice was icy cold. Her expression was a far cry from the friendly look just moments earlier. "I assure you, you're moments from finding out. Is the cost worth it to you? Because losing this little girl means nothing to me."

Terra dropped her hand, unable to bear the thought of causing Relm's death. "No, please," she begged. "I won't do anything. Please, just let her go," her voice was filled with despair as she pleaded with the storekeeper.

"Locke?" the woman turned her attention back to him.

Locke's throat was dry. They had no options. They had walked into this trap without realizing it. By the time it had been sprung, it was already far too late. He gritted his teeth in anger; irate at the fact that the Imperials were threatening a child. Above all, he was enraged at his own stupidity; at his wanton disregard for the danger they had been in the whole day. He had underestimated the Empire and now Relm and Terra would pay for his mistake.

The handle of his dagger dug into his palms, his knuckles white from the death grip on the weapon. He could do nothing now. The moment he moved, Relm would die.

His dagger clattered on the floor.

"That's a good boy," the woman's voice mocked them with its effrontery. "I seem to be lacking manners today, but I'm sure you'll forgive me with time. Since I know all of your names, it would be quite rude for me not to introduce myself."

The red-haired woman had a dangerous grin on her face. Locke had once found her looks to be captivating but at the moment, her gorgeous smile was nauseating.

"My name is Danielle Meras -- General Danielle Meras -- and I welcome you to the Imperial City of Tzen."

[LadyTevar]

Oh. Fuck.