Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 8 – Part 2)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Since this chapter is particularly long, I’m going to wait until I’ve posted each part of it on this blog before posting the complete chapter on FanFiction.net.

Reminder: If you’re looking for the previously posted parts of the story, go to the “Categories” drop-down banner on the left banner of the site and choose “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope”.

       
*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

Sabin’s eyes fluttered open when a cock crowed somewhere outside. He was stiff and hadn’t slept well, but he’d experienced much worse during his training so he couldn’t complain. He rose and stretched his muscles before noticing that his companions were missing. He gave the still-snoring man in the rocking chair a cursory glance before heading outside. He worried that Shadow may have already abandoned the journey, but he soon found the man and dog sitting on the opposite sides of a small fire behind the house. Three small rabbits were roasting on sticks. Sabin felt his stomach rumble. How long had it been since his last meal?

Without saying a word, Shadow plucked the grease-dripping balls of meat from the fire and tossed one to Sabin, who caught the cool end of the stick expertly. Interceptor caught the second rabbit in his teeth and immediately dug into it greedily. Shadow began to walk with his, so Sabin followed while taking a few sloppy bites.

Shadow ate his breakfast slowly as they walked. Every time he took a bite he’d turn his head away from Sabin before pulling his mask down from his mouth. Sabin thought it odd, but decided to respect his privacy.

Their silent journey continued until the sun was high in the sky. Then, without any warning, Shadow and Interceptor broke into a hurried run. For a few seconds Sabin blinked after them in confusion before sprinting after them.

“Why the sudden rush?” he asked as his steps fell in line with the others’.

Shadow made a vague gesture toward their destination. “Storm coming,” he explained. “If we hurry we can meet it at the base. The early shadows and rain will help cloak our way through.”

Sabin examined the sky and saw that, sure enough, angry black clouds were rallying toward the forest to the south. It would surely be a very dark evening, even if the rain didn’t fall. He couldn’t help but smile. With the early darkness, he wondered how much damage he could cause at the Imperial base, as long as he was there…

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 8 – Part 1)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Since this chapter is particularly long, I’m going to wait until I’ve posted each part of it on this blog before posting the complete chapter on FanFiction.net.

Reminder: If you’re looking for the previously posted parts of the story, go to the “Categories” drop-down banner on the left banner of the site and choose “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope”.

*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

The morning sun was just rising when Sabin pulled himself up onto the rocky beach. He’d lost Ultros somewhere just off the Lete River; the cowardly creature had eventually given up the fight and taken off for his life. The current had been too strong for Sabin to swim to shore and he’d soon found himself pulled out to sea. Lucky enough to snatch a floating piece of driftwood, he’d drifted in and out of sleep all night as he floated along through the vast waters.

It was good to be on solid ground again.

Drenched and dripping, the younger Figaro brother made his way across the rocks, into the grass. When he spied the large cottage a mile or so off he practically sprinted for it.

When he burst in the door, the dozen or so patrons of the lounge jumped in surprise. The man behind the counter looked him up and down and chuckled. “Out for a swim?” he asked with a smirk.

“Something like that,” Sabin mustered a smile. “Where am I, please?”

The other patrons looked on in curiosity as the bartender raised an eyebrow. “How specific d’you need me to be?”

“You’re northwest of Doma Castle.” The voice came from the far corner of the room, from a man covered head to toe in black. A rather large black dog sat attentively at his side. The other patrons eyed him suspiciously and with various levels of dislike on their faces, but Sabin gave him a friendly smile and took a few steps toward him.

“You a traveler?” he asked cheerily, dripping all over the floor. “Couldn’t tell me how to get to Narshe from here, could ya? I got separated from my friends, you see…”

The man in black was slowly shaking his head. “Rough journey,” he explained. “Imperials have built a base just beyond the forest.”

Sabin’s eyes grew. He’d heard the Empire was setting its sights on Doma, but these things usually took time. “Already?!”

The man nodded. “They seem to have set their sights on the castle fortress.”

Sabin’s eyes narrowed. He flexed his fists while he thought. “So Doma’s next in a line of hostile takeovers, eh? I have to reach Narshe immediately!” His outburst caused everyone in the establishment to break into a noisy murmur.

“Then your only option is through Doma’s lands,” replied the black-clad man calmly. He stood slowly and the dog was immediately at his heels. “My name is Shadow. I’ll show you the way, so long as you understand that I may abandon the journey at any time if I feel like it.”

Sabin nodded. “Agreed.” He stepped aside to let Shadow lead. As the black-garbed man stepped through the door, a hand grabbed Sabin’s shoulder. When he turned his head he found the bartender staring at him with wide eyes.

“I wouldn’t travel with him, pal,” he warned in a whispered rush. “Guy’s insane! He’ll lead you into the forest and slit your throat, sell your cold, revolutionary body to the Empire!”

Sabin smiled a little and nodded. “Thanks for the concern,” he replied calmly and shrugged off the man’s hand. “But as thousands of lives may hang in the balance, I think I’ll take the risk.”

The looks he received as he walked out were ones of complete bewilderment.

Shadow and his enormous raven-colored hound had already set out across the plains at a steady pace. Sabin jogged to catch up before slowing to match Shadow’s pace. He tried to be patient with the other man’s conservative speed, though what he really wanted was to run with all his strength.

The journey was a silent and uncomfortable one. Shadow, though he’d seemed willing enough to guide Sabin on his travels, did not seem to be the friendly type. Sabin tried to respect that. The younger Figaro brother’s mind was busy anyway. He wondered how many Imperials had already congregated outside Doma. What were their plans? Diplomatic talks or full-out attack? Would it wait until he could get to Narshe and send the cavalry? Or would it be long over by then?

They walked like this for hours, Shadow’s stride never changing or faltering, Sabin’s mind constantly racing. Just as Sabin noticed the setting sun, a small house began to appear in the distance. Sabin examined the tiny building with some interest – Who would live out here in the middle of nowhere? – when Shadow and the dog began to veer of toward it.

“Where are we going?” Sabin finally asked.

“Shelter for the night,” was Shadow’s straightforward response.

Sabin stopped in his tracks. “Shelter for the night?” he exclaimed. “I don’t have time for that!”

Shadow continued to walk as though he hadn’t heard the outburst. He didn’t speak until Sabin had jogged to catch back up to him. “There are many Imperials. We will need our wits about us to make it through the base alive. Thus, shelter and sleep.”

Sabin opened his mouth to argue, but the dog let out a low growl that made him shut it again.

“Down, Interceptor,” Shadow said to the dog. Sabin could have sworn he saw the man’s lips twitch upward from beneath his mask.

As they came upon the tiny house – it was really more of a shack, actually – they could hear a curious muttering coming from inside. Sabin was about to ask whose home this was when Shadow reached for the door and strode right in. Sabin scrambled in behind, intrigued and not wanting to be left behind.

The source of the muttering became immediately evident. There was a man rocking in an old chair in the corner of the room; he was not elderly, but he had clearly aged in other ways. There were many gray streaks in his otherwise black hair, and there were lines in his face that made him look as though he’d been pulling at his skin for many years. He wore old clothing that hadn’t been washed in a long time, and the tiny, single-room house looked like a tornado had ripped through it.

As the two younger men and the dog poured in through the doorway, the man’s head shot up and his eyes narrowed. “Hey!” he exclaimed at a shout. There was a note of anger in his voice. “You the clock maker?! I’ve been waitin’ for ages!”

Shadow ignored the man completely, so Sabin nervously replied, “Uh, no… No, I’m not the clock maker.”

Sabin’s words seemed to have no effect on the man, who barreled on while pointing at a wooden hunk of junk hanging above his small kitchenette. “There it is, on the wall. Ain’t been ticken’ for one, no…five? Shucks, maybe even ten years now!”

Bewildered, Sabin stepped closer to the clock, only to find that it was merely a few chunks of wood nailed together with a clock face messily painted on the front. “Uh…”

“Ignore him,” Shadow spoke up. He was settling himself in a corner of the room. Interceptor lay loyally at his side. “Gone crazy a long time ago,” he explained. “Wife died giving birth.”

The man turned away and began muttering to himself again as though he couldn’t even hear Shadow talking about him. Sabin shook his head and walked over to the corner adjacent to Shadow to settle down. “What happened to the child?” he asked as he sat on the hard floor.

Shadow shrugged a little. He seemed unaccustomed to so much talking. “Like I said, gone crazy. Near I can figure from his ramblings, he thought the babe was a demon and tossed it down Baren Falls.”

Sabin’s face blanched.

Shadow and Interceptor had closed their eyes and made no further attempt at polite conversation. The old man continued to rock in his chair and mutter nonsense to the wall across from him until he eventually nodded off in mid-rock. Sabin lay awake in his corner for several hours, staring at his roommates and contemplating the bizarreness of the world in which he’d been born. Eventually, while thinking of the poor child that had been thrown down the falls, he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 7)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Now that I’ve caught up to what I had already had written and posted on FanFiction.net, I’ll be posting these new bits on both sites. If you’ve never been to FanFiction.net, I urge you to take a look. There can be a lot to wade through, but I’ve been known to find some gems in there.

Reminder: If you’re looking for the previously posted parts of the story, go to the “Categories” drop-down banner on the left banner of the site and choose “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope”.

*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

Locke ran like a ghost, his footfalls as silent as a snowflake. He quickly rounded a corner and maneuvered his way down a skinny alleyway, where he stood stock still in the shadows. Several years of experience fighting the Empire had taught him a certain level of stealth.

“Where’d he go?” came an angry voice from the road.

“I think he went this way!” replied another. The two sets of footsteps faded in the distance and Locke released a sigh of momentary relief.

“Yeah…” he mumbled to himself. “Better get to Narshe on the fly.”

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 6)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Reminder: If you’re looking for the previously posted parts of the story, go to the “Categories” drop-down banner on the left banner of the site and choose “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope”.

*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

“You’re joking, right?” Terra asked without humor.

Edgar shot back a half-hearted smile and reached down to untie their vessel from the shore.

The Lete River ran through the north-eastern mountains, a thin and winding road of raging rapids. Even as they stood on the stone shore of the twisting torrent, their legs were being drenched by the crashing waves.

The vessel that Edgar and Banon intended them to navigate this watery deathtrap with was a 15×15-foot raft comprised of roughly bound together logs.

“Don’t worry, Terra,” said Sabin, clapping her on the back just a bit too hard. “If anyone falls in, I’m an excellent swimmer!”

Terra groaned.

“Okay,” Edgar said, having untangled the rope. He held on with all his strength to keep the raft from ripping away from them. “Everyone aboard!”

Terra stepped on hesitantly, dropped to her knees, and clung to a bit of rope sticking between to of the logs. Banon and Sabin followed suit, though both seemed significantly more confident. Edgar was the last to board, leaping gracefully as the rope anchor fell to the waves.

The raft jerked forward as though it had been dying to ride the rapids. At first Terra squeezed her eyes shut as tight as she could and cringed at every bounce and lurch, every icy splash in the face. But after a few minutes, when there had been no yells of terror from the men, she slowly opened her eyes to see what was happening.

The speed was incredible as they hurtled along between the two rocky shores. There were treacherous turns everywhere, but Edgar and Sabin, one at each of the front corners of the raft, used their body weight to expertly force the vessel in the directions they wanted to go. They were perfectly coordinated with each other and Terra wondered where in the world they would have picked up such a skill growing up in the desert.

Banon had a goofy, childlike grin on his face as he held his head up to the cool winds rushing by. Terra looked at him and, how that she knew the Figaro brothers had navigation under control, couldn’t help but smile herself. This was amazing! They were actually river-rafting down a mountain range! Even if the Empire’s soldiers suspected how they’d left, surely they hadn’t thought to bring a boat with them; no change anyone would catch up to them now!

Terra found herself laughing out loud at the thought. Banon soon joined her with his deep guffaw, and the Figaro brothers weren’t far behind.

All concerns temporarily forgotten, Terra dared to release her death grip on the raft and made her way, unsteadily, to a standing position. Spreading her arms like the eagle she’d watched earlier, she reveled in the wind and water spray.

They floated on for miles in this way. Sometimes the river would wide and they’d hover along at a calm, relaxing pace; other times the banks would close in and the raft would rip along so fast it was hard to believe that Edgar and Sabin could keep them from capsizing.

They’d reached a relatively calm area when Banon announced that they were beginning to near the Narshean mountain range.

Terra raised her arms to the sky for a good stretch and felt it…a small bump on the underside of the raft. “Did anyone else feel that?” she asked, turning her eyes to the logs on which she stood.

“Feel what?” asked Banon. He was eying her curiosity.

He’d barely gotten the words out of his mouth when there was a startling crash and the raft lurched violently. Terra stumbled and nearly toppled over the side, but Sabin snatched her arm.

“What was that?” Edgar cried in alarm.

The raft began to settle again, the ripples in the water fading away to nothing. They were all silent as the raft floated on, waiting for another occurrence. At first there was nothing, but then Terra spied a gathering of bubbles.

They had just enough time to guide their raft off to the side before the creature emerged. It broke through the water’s surface so violently that the resulting waves almost tipped them clean over.

“W-what is it?” Terra shrieked.

The thing was huge; its bulbous body, black as ocher, was at least as large as their raft, and was amplified by eight swarming, thrashing tentacles slapping the surface of the water in a rage. A pair of gleaming white eyes stared at them from low on the main body, just above a row of thick, pointed teeth that stretched into an extremely wide grimace.

When it spoke, Terra nearly had a heart attack.

“OW!” it shrieked in a high, piercing voice that grated terribly against their ears. “You hit my head, you, you…jerks!”

Edgar’s mouth was hanging open. “Sorry?” he offered.

The creature’s eyes narrowed and it raised a tentacle, waving it back and forth in a ‘tsk tsk’ motion. “Uwee hee hee…” it chuckled. “Sorry won’t cut it with me, the mighty Ultros!”

Sabin snorted. Edgar and Banon shot a glare at him.

“Game over!” Ultros screamed, pointing four tentacles straight at Sabin. “Don’t tease the octopus, kiddies!”

Two tentacles came swinging in with immense speed. Terra screamed and Banon ducked in fright. Sabin grinned wide, lifted his arms, planted his feet, and stopped the tentacles in midair. Water from the creature’s slimy skin drenched his body, but he grinned and flexed his arms as though it was all a terribly fun game.

“Muscleheads?” Ultros squealed. “Hate em!” While Sabin struggled, the giant octopus whipped around with two more tentacles, looking to smash their raft.

“I think not!” Edgar bellowed. The auto-crossbow was already in his hands and he shot off a volley of arrows before any tentacles could land.

Terra covered her ears at the hideous noise Ultros emitted. Sabin was almost hauled off the raft as all tentacles flailed madly. Ultros slapped its limbs against the water in a desperate attempt to dislodge Edgar’s arrows.

“Arg!” it screamed, voice filled with fury. “Delicious morsel! Let me get my bib!”

“Away with you now!” Banon bellowed. “Take to the seas before you are injured further!”

The high-pitched laughter that followed was almost as painful as the scream. “I think not!” squealed Ultros, and all at once he lunged forward with his entire body.

Edgar raised his weapon and Sabin planted his feet, but they never got the chance to meet the attack. A burst of flame flew between them and connected squarely with Ultros’ face. The scream he let loose caused the brothers to cover their ears in dislike. Terra lowered her arms, a stony set on her face, as the violent creature fell back into the water, thrashing in pain.

“Yaaaaaaoooooooucch!” it shrieked. “Seafood soup! Seafood soup!” And then it sunk beneath the surface of the water, leaving behind only a few tendrils of steam.

“Good job, Terra!” Banon praised. Terra flushed.

“Is it gone?” Edgar asked cautiously. He peered over the edge of the raft. The current was beginning to pick up again and he could make nothing out.

“I think Terra thrashed it!” Sabin announced with a hearty chuckle.

Terra smiled, pleased to have helped, but the smile soon fell off her face as she felt something wet and slimy rub against her leg. Startled, she jumped, but the thing had glued itself to her boot. “Ew!” she cried, upset. “There’s something stuck to my leg!”

The thin end of a tentacle curled around Terra’s ankle and yanked hard, but Edgar and Banon grabbed her arms and Sabin brought both of his fists down as hard as he could. There was a squeak and a burst of bubbles from the water and the tentacle retracted beneath the surface.

“Terra, over here!” Edgar insisted, pulling them all to the center of the raft.

“It’s alright now,” Banon promised. Terra took a few deep breaths.

“That slimy, disgusting…” Sabin growled, peering into the water. “Watch out, I’m gonna hit it with a Blitz technique!”

Edgar reached out as Sabin stepped forward. “No! Sabin, wait!”

But Sabin shrugged off his brother’s hand. “Don’t distract me, Edgar!” Without a further word, he leapt from the raft and into the rapidly accelerating waters.

“He’s always been a tad zealous,” Banon groaned. Terra gaped.

“Sabin!” Edgar shouted again, his voice raising with panic.

“Don’t worry,” Banon assured him with a smile. “You should know better than any of us that any moment he’ll flop right onto the raft!”

Edgar was just opening his mouth to reply when there was an enormous splash and a yell. Their heads whipped around to see that Ultros had reemerged a dozen meters away, with Sabin standing on his head. As they watched, amused, Sabin hopped back and forth atop the octopus’ dome, dodging swing after swing from the tentacles. They couldn’t help but laugh as Ultros pummeled his own brain in a mad attempt to squash his tormentor.

“Seems a little too perky!” Edgar chuckled.

But Banon had stopped laughing. Terra followed his gaze and saw why. The now-speedy waters were hurtling them toward a fork in the river. Their raft was being pulled irresistibly toward the left fork. Sabin, still dancing on Ultros’ cranium, was floating toward the right.

“Sabin!” Terra called out in alarm.

The younger Figaro brother turned to the sound of his name, but was just as soon distracted by a flailing tentacle.

Edgar and Banon dropped to their knees and struggled to reroute the raft closer to Ultros, but the water was too fast and they were soon beyond the point of no return.

“Sabin!” Edgar cried out as their paths split. He looked concerned and frustrated, but he knew there was nothing to be done. “Sabin, take care of yourself! Meet us in Narshe!”

The brothers locked gazes for half a moment before the waters carried them out of each others’ sight.

 

Getting to Know Yourself

The third week of The Artist’s Way is about “recovering a sense of power”. This week looks into several concepts. One of these is anger, and how we should use angry feelings toward ourselves (“Oh my god, I’ve gotten so fat!”) to reveal those things in our lives which we need to be focusing on.

Another of the topics is “synchronicity”, which basically refers to great things that happen to us (coincidences, most of us call them) that help us work toward our goals. Most of us ignore these things, (“Sure, I met this awesome writer agent who is really friendly and helpful, but it’s totally a coincidence and she won’t want to read my manuscript.”) because we’re more scared of actually achieving our goals than never achieving them.

And the third topic is shame, which most of us have way too much of. We think poorly of ourselves because of concepts that society forces on us (“Artist’s are just lazy people who don’t want to get a real job.”) and that keeps us from following our dreams and goals for ourselves.

As of the writing of this post I haven’t been able to find the time to work on any of the tasks for this week, but there is one exercise that was in the bulk of the chapter itself that I thought I could share. It’s a series of “finish this sentence” lines that are meant to evoke some thought and emotion into who you are and what is important to you, as well as your feelings about certain concerns and issues that might be blocking your creativity.

The bold part of the sentence is the prompt, and the normal font is my response.

1. My favorite childhood toy was…probably my Super Nintendo. I can think of dozens of other toys that I absolutely loved, but the SNES holds a special place in my heart, along with such games as Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy III(VI), and Uniracers (yes, Uniracers…shut up!).

2. My favorite childhood game was…Jailbreak. It goes by other names in different areas, so for clarification it’s basically hide-and-seek in the dark, where “it” sends people to “jail”. If one of the hiding kids is able to get to the “jail” without “it” catching them, he/she can yell “JAILBREAK!” and everyone runs off to hide again.

3. The best movie I ever saw as a kid was…probably the first live-action Ninja Turtles movie. I saw tons of movies as a kid, but I can specifically remember waiting in line at the theater to see this one and I was definitely not disappointed.

4. I don’t do it much but I enjoy…reading. I read more than most people I know, but still not much considering that it’s one of my favorite things to do. I love reading, but it takes up so much time that I don’t have.

5. If I could lighten up a little, I’d let myself…attend a “Write-In” during National Novel Writing Month. “Write-In”s are basically when a group of writers were are participating in NaNoWriMo get together and hang out at a cafe or at someone’s house and just enjoy each others company while trying to write as much as possible. There are a couple in the next town over every year but I never go because it feels like a very un-adult thing to do for some reason.

6. If it weren’t too late, I’d…go away for college. The degree I got has served me well, so the university I attended was fine, but I always regretted not going away just to experience the whole “dorm life” thing.

7. My favorite musical instrument is…the guitar. It has always been a little difficult for me to play since my fingers are so short, but it’s more fun than the piano, and I just love the sound of a good acoustic guitar.

8. The amount of money I spend on treating myself to entertainment each month is…almost non-existent. In the past couple of months I’ve spent a bit of money on video games for the Vita my husband bought me, but normally I don’t really spending anything at all. If you work it out monthly over the course of a year it’s probably less than $10.

9. If I weren’t so stingy with my artist I’d buy her…some craft courses. There are lots of awesome-sounding writing courses on WANA International and Writer’s Digest, but I just can’t bring myself to spend money on my writing when I have no way of knowing if I’ll ever make any back.

10. Taking time out for myself is…almost impossible. When I was working out West I was accounted for 23-hours of the day, and when I’m home I can’t even sneak away for two minutes without the baby hunting me down and wanting something.

11. I am afraid that if I start dreaming…I’ll crash and burn. I’ve been allowing myself a hope and prayer for the past while, but it’s a tenuous grasp. I worry that I’ll put all this effort into something that I never get anything back out of.

12. I secretly enjoy reading…all these cheesy sexy-vampire-novels-that-are-marketed-toward-teenagers that are out these days. Don’t get me wrong, I still like my vampires to be scary-ass monsters that will rip your throat out, but there’s also an inherent charm to the sexy ones, especially if they’re sexy and dangerous.

13. If I had had a perfect childhood I’d have grown up to be…a writer, for sure. It’s what I’ve wanted since the third grade, so if everything had fallen into place perfectly, that’s definitely what I’d be doing today.

14. If it didn’t sound so crazy, I’d write or make a…series of novels based on all of my favorite video games from my childhood. Games like the Final Fantasy series, Chrono Trigger, the Breath of Fire series, and Secret of Mana all had such amazing story lines, I’ve always thought they deserved to be fleshed out and paid more attention to. I’d love to put 100% of my attention into these things, IF I had any belief that the respective copyright holders would ever allow me to publish them. For now, I’m just spending some of my writing time on the Final Fantasy VI one (a girl’s gotta dream).

15. My parents think artists are…artists? I really don’t know how to answer this one, since I’ve never really asked them. My parents are supportive; whether that reflects their actual attitudes toward artist or not, that’s all I really know.

16. My God thinks artists are…non-existent? I don’t have a God, so I doubt he thinks very much about anything at all.

17. What makes me feel weird about this recovery is…just an overall sense that it’s silly and pointless. I can honestly say that some of the tasks have prompted some “Ah-ha!” moments, but overall I just feel like it’s going to turn out to have been a huge waste of time.

18. Learning to trust myself is probably…one of the harder things I’ve ever tried to do. I might seem confident sometimes, but inwardly I’m pretty sure that I have no real talent and will never succeed in my goals.

19. My most cheer-me-up music is…mostly alternative rock from my younger years. Oddly, even when the lyrics are the exact opposite of “cheer-me-up”, things like the Offspring, GreenDay, and Blink 182 give me a little burst inside. That’s why I have tons of their songs on my phone.

20. My favorite way to dress is…jeans and a tank top. I don’t really like dresses because I hate having to sit properly, and I’m not a huge fan of shorts because I’m not a huge fan of my legs. I prefer tank tops to any other kind of top because they’re cooler (I get overheated strangely easy) and they show off some of the qualities I actually like about my body, like my shoulders and upper back.

So there’s a little piece of me, as per The Artist’s Way’s exercises. Did you learn anything?

What about you? Care to share your answers to some or all of these questions? 🙂

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 5 – Part 4)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Reminder: If you’re looking for the previously posted parts of the story, go to the “Categories” drop-down banner on the left banner of the site and choose “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope”.

*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

Terra sunk a little in her chair. Locke chuckled and gave her a quick pat on the shoulder.

The area with the long table was packed. There were at least three times as many Returners as Terra had originally estimated, and many of them were looking at her with interest as they chatted and waited for the meeting to begin.

“Alright!” Banon spoke above the crowd from his place at the head of the table. The crowd quieted and turned all their attention to him. “First, we all know that the Empire is using this strange Magitek power in battle. The question is, how has the Emperor created this man-made magic?” Here he paused and looked to Edgar, who stood and cleared his throat.

“I had heard a rumor,” he told the room, “That the Empire is forcing the world’s finest scholars to study espers and esper lore. Locke looked into it for me.”

“It seems to be true, although I haven’t been able to officially confirm it,” said Locke, who refused to stand when he spoke. “All the trouble in Narshe was over an esper too.”

Terra’s mind flashed to the strange, beautiful creature, encapsulated in ice, staring, eternal… “Do you mean,” she said quietly, “That there’s a connection between espers and the power that the Empire wields?”

Banon nodded gravely. He linked his fingers in front of his face and peered over them. “I can think of only one thing that would liken espers to machines that seem to use magical powers.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Terra noticed that Edgar’s face dropped in a strange way. His mouth opened a little and a half sentence escaped. “You can’t mean…?”

“Indeed,” Banon answered. He projected his voice to ensure everyone would hear. “The ancient War of the Magi.”

A gasp went throughout the crowd.

“No!” cried one woman.

“You can’t be serious!” exclaimed another.

Terra glanced around, bewildered at the shock and horror on the faces of the Returners. Gloriously ignorant, she asked, “What’s the War of the Magi?” No one seemed to hear her.

“My Grandma used to tell me stories about magical machines that existed long ago,” Locke told Edgar, eyes wide. “Could they have been true?”

“Could that ancient tragedy be playing out again?” Edgar responded in question.

“This is all just speculation,” Banon’s loud voice brought a bit of order back to the room. “But historical studies have provided a number of conflicting and frightening theories about the War. According to one of the more common theories, humans and machines were imbued with magical powers drained from espers.”

“And devastation was the result,” Edgar growled, “Since you can only fight magic enemies with magic weapons!”

Banon nodded. “But one way or another, the War ended. How is the missing link that may help us.” Here his eyes locked on Terra. “It may be risky, but that esper in Narshe reacted to Terra… If we have her ‘speak’ with it, it may just wake up and-”

“I wonder if that’s wise?” Edgar interrupted, frowning.

Banon shrugged, flicking his gaze to the young king. “Who’s to say?” he admitted. “But regardless, we aren’t particularly burdened with options. We need to try something, anything, if it will help us understand our situation and come up with a way to fight the Empire. And for that we need Terra’s help.”

Terra felt every eye on her and cringed. But she was also thinking about the esper again, about its piercing gaze. She vaguely remembered the scream as the second soldier vanished. But the esper hadn’t hurt her. She’d simply passed out. Perhaps it wouldn’t be dangerous at all. Perhaps the beautiful creature would be grateful to Terra for freeing it from its icy slumber. Perhaps it would give Terra some answers…tell her what she…

“I’ll do it!” she exclaimed. Several people jumped in surprise.

“What nonsense!” Sabin laughed, teasing. “You sound almost as if you’re enjoying this!”

Banon ignored the excited whispers and Sabin’s banter and gave Terra a warm smile. “Thank you,” he told her. “You have no idea how much we all appreci-”

The slam of a door and the clatter of several crates bouncing across the stone floor interrupted Banon’s moment of gratitude. Several people rose from their chairs and all heads turned to look as a young man stumbled into the room and fell to his knees. Terra recognized him as the young man who had led them into the hideout earlier. His dark hair was pasted to his slick forehead and he was gasping as though there wasn’t enough oxygen left on the planet to fill his lungs.

Banon rose from his seat. “What’s going on?” he demanded. “What’s happened?”

“S…South Figaro,” the young man struggled with every syllable. “Empire…t-took South F…Figaro…coming…this way!”

The panic was tangible. Terra swore she could feel each heart rate quicken, each breath shorten.

“But why?” Edgar exclaimed. “South Figaro is a peaceful fishing town! What use could the Empire possibly have for-”

“They’ve found us,” Banon groaned. “We haven’t a moment to lose!” Terra watched in confusion as the Returners’ leader began quickly doling out evacuation orders.

“Locke!” cried Edgar.

“I know,” replied Locke. “Someone has to sneak into South Figaro and slow the Empire down, right?”

“This is right up your alley,” said Edgar with a grim smile.

“No!” Terra cried, surprising both men. “You can’t go alone!”

Locke smiled that soft, infuriating smile, and placed a hand on Terra’s head. “Don’t you worry about me. This is what I do. I’ll be just fine.” Terra tried to argue, but Locke plowed on, not to be interrupted. “Wait for me in Narshe, and please, don’t let a lecherous young king, who shall remain nameless, anywhere near you!”

“Locke!” Edgar screamed, his face red. He grabbed madly at the other, but Locke had already run, howling with mad laughter, toward the exit. Terra watched him go with a frown on her face and a worried crease on her brow.

Sabin, who seemed to be immune to the concept of panic, was roaring at the rage on Edgar’s face. “Oh big brother,” he chuckled loudly. “Won’t you ever grow up?”

Banon had appeared behind them. “Everyone is heading out through the back tunnels,” he explained. “They’re going to scatter until further notice, but I think we four should head directly to Narshe.”

Edgar put aside his anger long enough to agree. “Yes, I want to see that esper for myself, and we really shouldn’t waste time. We can head down the Lete River.”

The men all agreed, but given the strange look on Banon’s face, Terra had a very bad feeling about the decision.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 5 – Part 3)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Reminder: If you’re looking for the previously posted parts of the story, go to the “Categories” drop-down banner on the left banner of the site and choose “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope”.

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Locke led Terra back to the room with the beds she’d spied upon their arrival. They were both silent, neither sure what to say to the other. Locke motioned Terra toward a corner bed in the empty room and she sat down. After a moment of hesitation he turned and sat facing her on the next bed over.

Terra’s mind was swirling. ‘Our only hope’, Banon had said. What could he possibly mean by that? What was she supposed to think about it? He hadn’t explained anything at all, just dazzled her with a fairy tale and left her with a hell of a lot of confusion and questions. Was he…was he expecting her to fight for him?

“Locke,” she said after what felt like an eternity of silence, “Why did you join the Returners?”

Locke’s eyes probed Terra’s face, but she was staring resolutely at the floor while she awaited an answer. After a moment he sighed, lay back on the bed, and crossed his arms behind his head. “Someone important to me was jailed by the Empire,” he explained slowly. He didn’t use so much as a pronoun, but Terra’s mind flashed an image of Locke standing next to an older, more rugged version of himself…father and son. “I’ve hated the Empire every since,” Locke continued on. “When I realized that they were completely rotten to the core, I sought out and joined the Returners. I wanted to make a difference.”

Terra considered his words for a while before speaking again. “But I have no significant other in my life, no one to fight for. No one to ‘make a difference’ for.”

Locke turned his head to look at her, and this time she was looking back. “That’s not entirely true,” he told her. “Your memory still has a lot of holes in it, so you can’t be sure that someone like that doesn’t exist for you.” He smiled. “Besides, I’m sure there are people out there who feel that you’re important to them. They’re probably out there right now, somewhere, counting on you to do what’s right.”

Terra couldn’t decide whether that was a comforting thought or not. It was nice to imagine that there might be people out there who were emotionally attached to her, but it was also frustrating to think that they might be counting on her to make a decision that she felt completely inadequate to make. She just didn’t know what the ‘right decision’ was.

She popped up from the bed so suddenly that Locke jumped. “I need to move,” she announced. “Take a walk or something.”

“You want me to come with you?” Locke asked, propping himself up on his elbows.

“No,” Terra replied slowly. She turned toward the door. “I need to think.” She strode off before Locke could object.

There were plenty of people wandering the tunnels of the hideout; more than Terra had expected, men and women of all ages. It seemed that the Empire was more widely hated than she’d realized. It was difficult to find somewhere quiet to think. She met up with Edgar in one room, and he gave her some thoroughly unhelpful advice.

“It’s tough to try and talk you into joining us,” he’d said with a careful smile. “If we push you too hard then we’re really no better than the Empire. So we want you to make up your own mind…trust yourself.”

Later, by the food bar, Sabin gave her some even less helpful advice.

“The only thing I can add,” he’d said thoughtfully, “Is that you can trust my brother implicitly. He’s a good man and has always been fair with me. You can trust him, Terra.” He added with a sheepish grin, “But don’t you dare tell him I said that!”

After a polite smile to each, and feeling thoroughly uninspired, Terra eventually made her way to the mouth of the cave entrance. Here she finally found a quiet place to think. It was still fairly early in the day, but the sun was beginning to disappear behind the large walls of mountains, casting shadows across the valley.

For a few minutes she let her thoughts disappear beyond the mountains as well. The warm breeze blew through her hair and she stood with her eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the evening; a wolf’s howl, an eagle’s cry, and the grass in the valley rustling in the wind.

“Peaceful, isn’t it?”

Terra jumped about a mile before peering around the corner of the cave entrance. Banon was there, a few feet away, sitting down against the stone wall. His eyes were closed, his head resting back.

“I come out here sometimes, to think,” he explained. “It’s a very calming environment.”

Terra hesitated for several moments before walking over and sitting down next to him. “That is why I am out here as well,” she admitted.

“Hmm…” said Banon. “Trying to make up your mind about joining us?”

It was another few moments before Terra responded. “Yes.”

Banon offered no more, but Terra soon found herself irresistibly displaying her thoughts for him to see.

“It’s just that,” she started, “I think you’re the ‘good guys’, but how do I really know? My memory has so many gaps. How do I know that the Empire isn’t perfectly sound and that the Returners aren’t just a group of rebels who want to overthrow the government?”

Banon chuckled a little, and the response he gave almost seemed to be rehearsed. “I suppose when you put it in that sense, you really can’t know for sure,” he told her, his eyes still closed gently. “But we don’t fight because we know we’re right. We fight because our hearts tell us we’re right. Tell me, Terra, knowing that the Empire enslaved you against your will, what does your heart tell you?”

Terra didn’t have to think very long before admitting, “Anyone who would do that to someone has to be bad…”

“And as for us, well,” said Banon, “We can’t really prove to you that what we’re trying to do is inherently ‘good’, but certainly there’s no harm in observing for yourself. Allow yourself the time with us in order to give your heart enough evidence to decide properly.”

Terra considered this for a long time. She watched an eagle, its wings spread majestically, soar high in the twilit sky. “Yes…I suppose so…”

Now, finally, Banon opened his eyes and turned to look at her. “Then I must ask, as it’s been killing me, you see,” he said with a flicker of a smile, “Have you made your decision? Will you give our organization a chance and possibly become our last ray of hope?”

Terra continued to watch the eagle until it landed on a nearby ridge, where sat a large nest. She spied several tiny bald heads peek up as the mama-bird nuzzled in.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Banon’s eyes lit up. “Really? You will?”

“But,” Terra interrupted loudly, “I’m scared.”

Unable to hide his jubilation, Banon twisted to place both hands on Terra’s shoulders and grinned. “That’s natural,” he told her. “But try to have faith. If everyone works together, with a common goal in our hearts, we’ll be successful. Never give up hope!”

Terra allowed herself a small smile.

With a childlike bounce, a grinning Banon jumped to his feet. “I believe,” he said aloud, “That it is time to call a meeting!”

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 5 – Part 2)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Reminder: If you’re looking for the previously posted parts of the story, go to the “Categories” drop-down banner on the left banner of the site and choose “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope”.

*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

Nobody bothered to ask Sabin how he seemed to know exactly where the Returners’ hideout was located; the wearied travelers were simply too grateful to have him as a guide. When they found themselves at the secret cave entrance that night, Edgar and Locke readily admitted that it would have been a two-day hike taking the path they knew.

A young guard, hiding in the shadows behind a large rock, popped up in surprise as the group approached. “King Edgar!” he exclaimed in shock. “What are you – I mean, please come this way!” The eager boy, whom Terra guessed was no older than fifteen or sixteen, ushered them happily down a short tunnel and through a thick wooden door.

“Ah,” Locke sighed, stretching. “Good to be ‘home’!”

Terra had to admit to herself that she was a little impressed. You could hardly tell you were inside a mountain. The tunnel opened up into a fairly large cavern that was furnished with a very long wooden table and many chairs. A makeshift bar was set up in one corner and an older couple were nestled there, doling out mugs of some sort of steaming, delicious-smelling stew. A number of other tunnels were partitioned off with more doorways; one of them was hanging open and Terra spied a group of small beds. The walls were lined with boxes of supplies and dozens of posters with revolutionary sayings, motto’s, and ideals emblazoned across them.

“This way, Sir’s and Madam,” said the young guard again, hurriedly. “This way, please!” He led them past the stew bar, past the long table, and through a door in the very back of the cavern. It was a study of sorts that housed several large shelves, packed with books.

An older man with long, wild white hair, swathed in a pale yellow cloak, turned from the shelf where he stood. He’d been flipping through a very large, very ancient-looking volume.

“Ah!” he said, surprised at the sudden arrival of so many guests. “King Edgar! This is a surprise!”

The young guard ducked away, presumably to return to his post, and Edgar stepped forward. “Banon, there is much to discuss,” he announced. He opened his arms wide in greeting as he spoke.

“Yes, yes…” Banon agreed. He placed his book on a shelf and moved to meet them. “There must have been some interesting events for you to land here with Locke and…” His eyes scrutinized Sabin for a moment. “Your brother?”

Sabin nodded respectfully and no further questions were asked. Instead Banon’s gaze wandered to Terra.

“And who is this lovely young lady?” he asked, though by the way he was looking at his hair it was clear that he already had some idea.

“Terra Branford,” Edgar answered for her.

“Hmmm…” Banon mumbled. “Yes…the girl who can talk to espers?”

Terra opened her mouth, ready to defend herself if need be, and explain that as far as she could recall there had been nothing resembling a conversation with the creature in the Narshe cave.

Edgar interrupted her. “It seems that the Empire had complete control over her.”

“Yes, yes…” Banon replied, his eyes boring into Terra’s. “Carrier pigeons brought word that she wiped out fifty of the Empire’s best soldiers in mere moments.”

The blood flew to Terra’s face, and then drained just as quickly. “That’s a lie!” she screamed in horror. She turned to run from the room, desperate to escape Banon’s steady gaze, but Locke and Sabin caught her on either side.

“Terra,” Locke whispered to her as she struggled against them. “It’s okay…”

“Banon!” Edgar cried, a hint of disgust in his voice. “She doesn’t remember anything! And even if she did, she wasn’t in control of herself! She’s a victim in all this!”

But Banon wasn’t listening to Edgar; he was still staring steadfastly at Terra. “Stay where you are!” he demanded, his voice suddenly loud and firm.

The authority in his voice caused Terra to freeze and slowly turn around, her eyes wide. She was surprised to find that the look on Banon’s face had changed…he looked desperate, and very, very old.

“Perhaps you may have heard this story,” he spoke quietly while taking a few steps forward. “Once, a long time ago when people were pure and innocent, there was a box they were told never to open. But one person’s curiosity was too powerful and one day he stole away and opened the box to see what was inside. In doing so, he unleashed all the evils of the world…envy…greed…pride…violence…control… All that was left in the box was a single tiny ray of light…hope.” As the word left his lips, a like emotion flickered in his eyes. “You may not realize it yet, but we now confront those evils within the Empire, and you may be that last ray of light…our only hope.”

Shocked and confused at the bluntness of his statement, Terra stumbled backwards into Locke. He caught her around the shoulders and gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

“Banon!” Edgar admonished, but his voice was small. It was clear that his opinion on the subject was similar to the old man’s, even if he wasn’t quite so straightforward about it.

This time Banon reacted to Edgar’s voice, and for the first time since he’d noticed Terra, his eyes moved away from her. “Leave me now,” he all but whispered. “I am…very tired.”

Locke gave Terra’s shoulders another comforting squeeze and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 5 – Part 1)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Reminder: If you’re looking for the previously posted parts of the story, go to the “Categories” drop-down banner on the left banner of the site and choose “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope”.

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Sabin knew the mountains like the back of his hand. Within only a little over four hours he’d led them down a back pathway, out into a green and flat ravine between ranges, and well on their way to the Sabil Mountains to the northeast. On the hike the brothers caught up with each other with help from Locke on the most recent events. Terra was concerned about the part of the story that revealed her abilities, but Sabin’s reaction to the news was one of calm interest.

“Magic, eh?” he said, smiling at her. “Master Duncan used to talk about how alike to magic some of his techniques are.”

Terra nodded enthusiastically, thinking of Vargas’ strange and powerful wind attack.

“Of course it’s not really magic,” he explained further. “The details are a closely-guarded secret, but the techniques I perform stem from a harnessing of physics, nature, and the power of illusion.”

“I…I don’t understand,” Terra admitted. Edgar and Locke also looked as though they were quietly struggling with this information.

“Well, for example,” Sabin said to Terra, “What sort of magic can you do?”

Without giving it a second thought, Terra lifted her palms and conjured a small flame between them.

Sabin smiled. “Now, there you have it,” he chuckled, impressed and amused. “See, you can pull fire out of the air. Where once there was nothing, now there is flame, using nothing other than your desire for it to be so.”

Terra nodded.

“But how is what you were taught different then?” Locke asked, thoroughly interested.

“If flame is already present, I can manipulated it.” As a demonstration, Sabin performed a strange movement with his hand that caused Terra’s flame to wiggle and dance. “But I cannot create.” He dropped his hand and Terra let the flame disappear. “Vargas commanded a very old technique that allowed him to guide the movement of air,” Sabin explained further. “But it only worked well in the mountains, where air currents are easily bounced off the rock.”

“It’s quite amazing, I must admit,” Edgar spoke up. “That move you did was…dizzying, to say the least.”

Sabin nodded soberly, his recollection more sobering than proud. “It’s more of an illusion than anything,” he modestly insisted. “The victim sees more punches than are actually being thrown, and thus doesn’t know which ones to block.”

Terra envisioned the rocket-fast punches she’d barely been able to keep track of and understood.

“What I do is the result of years of practice and dedication,” Sabin said, then turned to Terra with a grin. “But what you do…well, that’s something genuinely amazing.”

He seemed to be in such honest awe that Terra found herself quietly repeating his words in her head for the remainder of the hike.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 3 – Part 3)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Reminder: If you’re looking for the previously posted parts of the story, go to the “Categories” drop-down banner on the left banner of the site and choose “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope”.

*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

“No, no, no, no, no,” Locke groaned. He pulled a blanket up over his head. “I refuse. Leave me here to die.”

Edgar shook his head. Terra, who had no idea why Locke was so cranky this morning, sat on the edge of his bed and watched with interest as Edgar ripped the blanket back down from his pale face. Locke moaned in protest and curled up into a ball with his arms over his head.

“You promised this wouldn’t happen!” Edgar accused angrily.

“It’s a cruel fate that I can’t escape from!” Locke shot back, his face turning green. “It’s not my fault!”

Terra’s curiosity got the better of her. “What’s wrong, Locke?”

“He’s sick,” Edgar explained with his arms crossed. “He’s always drinking too much and letting himself get sick.”

“Oh,” said Terra. Was that all? She looked sideways at Locke for a moment and then reached up and placed a hand on his forehead. His skin was clammy, but she held contact.

“What’re you…?” Locke began, but cut himself off.

Terra’s hand had begun to glow, softly at first, and then as bright as an open flame. Locke fidgeted nervously, trying to pull his head as far back into the pillow as he could, but he soon relaxed as a pleasant, warm feeling fell over him. The light began to die away and Terra pulled her hand back.

“Better?” she asked.

Locke’s eyes were wide. “Completely!” he exclaimed, practically jumping from the bed. “What did you do?”

Terra shrugged a little. “Healed you? I don’t know what the limitations of my powers are, but I thought it might help.”

Edgar shook his head in awe. “You just get more and more amazing…”

“Not really,” Terra mumbled, looking down at the bedsheets. She liked helping, but she didn’t like being gawked at as though there was something strange about her.

Locke saw where the conversation had gone and caused a distraction by throwing his pillow hard at Edgar’s head and taking off at a run down the hallway. Terra couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle as the king took off after him.

A few minutes later Locke was nursing a rapidly-bruising forearm while Edgar paid the innkeeper for their night’s stay. Terra wondered, with a raised eyebrow and a small smile, if either of them were even as old as they looked.

“Did you hear the awful news?” said a man at the back of the room to an older maid.

Terra turned her head in interest.

“What’s that, then?” the old maid asked.

“Master Duncan’s been slain!”

“No! You must be mistaken! That can’t possibly be true!”

“But it is, my dear woman! And what’s more, his son and that disciple of his have disappeared as well!”

“My gracious…whatever do you think could have happened?”

“Well…this is just between you and me now…but I’ve never much trusted that son of his…power-hungry, you know?”

“Oh no, you don’t really think that, do you? His own son do him in?”

“Well I don’t rightly know, my good woman, but if I were that disciple fella, that young Sabin, I’d be watching my back real close.”

Terra was distracted from the conversation by Locke’s voice. “Hey, Edgar? You okay, buddy?” She turned to look and saw that Edgar’s face was blanched white, his eyes locked on the man and the old maid. He looked a hundred times worse than Locke had looked that morning.

With a stab of emotion in her chest, Terra recalled that ‘Sabin’ was the name of Edgar’s younger brother.

Gradually, looking as though he was holding back the urge to vomit, he began to move toward the man and the old maid. “This disciple named Sabin…” He barely spoke loud enough for them to hear, but they both turned at the sound of his voice. “Does he, perchance, look like me?”

“As a matter of fact,” said the man, with a hint of surprise, “His hair is much shorter and he’s rather more muscular, but the face…definitely.”

Edgar began to tremble. He opened his mouth again, but no words came out.

Locke, who had only heard half the original conversation, began to catch on. He stepped forward quickly and gave the man and the maid a serious look. “Where did Master Duncan live?” he demanded.

The man looked suspicious, but the maid saw the green seeping into Edgar’s face and she conceded immediately. “In a little wooden house about ten miles north of here.”

She’d barely gotten the words out of her mouth before Edgar was out the door at a run.

Locke looked at Terra and she nodded at him before the two of them turned and quickly took off after their companion.