Fiction Fragment Fridays: Spiritualist

FFF
**As first mentioned on March 21st**
For the next little while I’m going to be busy building up a new backlog of material to post on Fridays, amidst the other stuff I’m working on, so for the next few weeks I’m going to satisfy myself to simply post a drabble a week. For you writers out there, feel free to use these drabbles as prompts toward writing something bigger and better, and if you care to share what you’ve written, please send me a link so I can check it out. 🙂

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Spiritualist

The man was very old. Sitting there in front of the fire, hunched over with his eyes closed…you could almost imagine that he’d died in that position. When he opened those eyes, however, they were full of fiery life. He picked up the staff at his side and shook it over the fire; the bobbles he’d tied to the end of it clinked and clanked and glimmered in the light.

“So…you can do magic, right?” I asked, “So, you can help me with my…problem?”

His slow grin was one of the most frightening things I’d ever seen.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Witch

FFF
**As first mentioned on March 21st**
For the next little while I’m going to be busy building up a new backlog of material to post on Fridays, amidst the other stuff I’m working on, so for the next few weeks I’m going to satisfy myself to simply post a drabble a week. For you writers out there, feel free to use these drabbles as prompts toward writing something bigger and better, and if you care to share what you’ve written, please send me a link so I can check it out. 🙂

———————

Witch

I always wanted to be a witch. Magic – or magik, if you prefer – always fascinated me in a way that nothing else did. I especially enjoyed the religious aspects. The idea of a God and Goddess who are the embodiments of nature and it’s manifestation of life always appealed to me, particularly the stories which describe the Goddess as the being that contains and conceives the universe and the God as her inspiration for life. I felt I had a connection to them…that I could harness their eternal power.

Oh, how gloriously wrong I was…how very, spectacularly wrong.

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”.

celesLocke - Steal
*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.”Read More »

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”.

Sabin - FingerTerra - Blink (Left)
*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

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 4 – 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”.

Vargas (Front)       Sabin - Action
*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

The base of Mount Kolts was foreboding. There was a path, but it was thin and steep. They would have to go single file, and the chocobos would have to be left behind.

“They’ll be okay, won’t they?” Terra asked as they dismounted.

“They’ll be fine,” Edgar promised. “They’re extremely smart birds, and well-trained. They’ll stick together and make their way back to the forests to the west of Figaro Castle. There’s a stable master there who will take good care of them.”

Terra nodded and turned to her chocobo. She nuzzled her face into its feathery cheek and whispered a quiet, “Thanks for everything.” The bird cooed softly at her and ruffled its wings in reply.

“Okay, are we all set?” Locke asked. He was looking warily up the path, to a spot about a hundred meters away where the air suddenly became very foggy.

“Ready,” Edgar replied, voice steady. He pulled the auto-crossbow from his back and held it at the ready in front of him.

Terra nodded and began clenching and relaxing her fists in preparation. She looked back at the chocobos one more time and they squawked at her once before turning and trotting off together. Terra silently wished them a safe journey.

They headed up the mountain cautiously, Edgar at the front, ready to sink an arrow into anything that attacked them. Locke was at the rear; he’d produced two long, curved knives from his pack and was twirling them around his fingers while keeping his eyes warily on the fog. Terra walked in between them, no physical weapon on her, but continuing to clench and flex her hands. She tried to watch all directions at once in case either man found himself in trouble.

Though the path was steep, slowing their ascent, it wasn’t long before they began to approach the wall of fog. It was a little disconcerting, to be sure. The misty whiteness hung in front of them, still and silent, as though an invisible wall was holding it from sinking down any lower. It was thick as well; even Terra’s excellent eyes couldn’t tell what was beyond it.

Without meaning to, the trio had stopped in front of the white wall, hesitant to proceed. From somewhere above, a small rock fell with a gentle, echoing clatter, and Locke jumped. Eventually, just when Terra was starting to wonder if the men had gotten cold feet, Edgar took a deep breath and choked up on his auto-crossbow.

“Keep close,” he instructed. “And watch your footing.”

It was an odd sensation, Terra thought. She could make out Edgar’s body in front of her, and she could feel Locke’s presence behind her, but everything around them was a void of white and shadow. They shuffled along very slowly now, taking care that their feet continued to land on solid stone. For all intents and purposes, they could have been climbing the mountain with their eyes closed.

Terra stopped suddenly. Preoccupied, Locke stumbled into her. Edgar whipped around at the sound.

“What’s wrong?”

Terra’s eyes were narrowed, staring at a spot some fifteen feet to their right. “I saw a shadow…”

Given the nature of their journey, Edgar and Locke decided to take the claim very seriously. They raised their weapons, eyes darting to where Terra was staring.

Cautiously, her arms raised out in front of her, Terra began to creep forward to where she’d seen the movement. Eventually, gingerly, the fingertips of her left hand met rock; her right hand met open air. With Locke and Edgar creeping along behind her she examined the rock wall – and the absence of rock wall – with her hands. She noticed that minuscule movements in the air displaced the fog from the area where there was no rock.

“It’s a cave,” she deduced. With the men sticking close to her sides, she began to move into it.

They walked very slowly at first, feeling along the walls to guide them, Terra now in the lead. Soon, however, the fog began to clear. Gradually a wide tunnel appeared before them. It was dark, but without the fog their eyes were able to adjust. Terra conjured a small flame in her hand to help guide their way.

“I’m…I’m not sure which way he went,” Terra stammered when they came to a fork in the road. “But I’m sure that the shadow I saw was a large man.”

Edgar nodded gravely. “Alright,” he said. “We’ll try the right path then. I’ll lead, Locke will keep an eye behind us, just in case. Terra, you keep the light going.”

She adhered, but as they started down their chosen path she couldn’t help feeling anxious. Neither man’s eyes were as good as hers and she worried that the shadow-man would pop out and attack before either of them saw anything happening. If only she’d seen where the shadow had gone, they’d know where to focus their attention! She found herself obsessively turning back and forth to make sure that neither of the men had been silently murdered while she wasn’t looking.

“There’s light up ahead,” Edgar announced quietly. It was only a tiny light at first, but they soon found themselves coming back out into the mountainside.

There was no fog here; only clean, crisp mountain air and the bright mid-day sun shining down on them. There was a rickety-looking bridge creating a path from one ledge to another, and when Terra looked over the edge she saw that the fog was below them, masking their elevation.

A flash of movement brought Terra’s eyes back up to another cave opening at the far end of the rope bridge. “There!” she hissed at the men. “Someone is in that cave!”

Eyes narrowed, Edgar lifted his auto-crossbow and dashed across the bridge. With a cry of alarm Locke ran after him, and after half a second of surprise, Terra followed.

“Edgar, hold up!” Locke cried. “This bridge might not be safe!”

As though his words had been a prophecy, the air was suddenly filled with the sickening echo of snapping wood as a foot-board broke. With a yell of alarm, Edgar disappeared from sight. Locke hit the bridge with full force on his stomach and threw his arms out, barely snatching Edgar’s flailing hand out of the air. The force of the catch jerked both men forward. Locke quickly looped his feet around the rope rungs of the bridge to stop himself himself from being yanked through the hole as well.

“You idiot!” Locke bellowed.

“I’m sorry!” Edgar’s cracking voice wafted up.

Helpless as to what she should do, Terra dropped to her knees, scraping her legs on the weather-beaten wood, and began hauling on Locke’s legs. “Hold on!” she cried, panicked. “I’ll pull you back!”

“You can’t!” Locke grunted as she nearly ripped his legs from his body. “The two of us together are too heavy!”

She was about to argue, but just as she opened her mouth another ear-splitting crack filled the air.

Locke had just enough time to twist his head and look at Terra with wide eyes before the entire bridge collapsed beneath them.

The moment of the drop seemed to last forever as Terra’s heart raced, but the fall itself was all too fast. Before a second had passed they were hurtling through the layer of fog. Less than a second after that, the wind passing by her ears began to burn. Half a second later they’d come to a very sudden, extremely jerky stop.

For a moment Terra thought they’d hit the bottom and died. Then she realized that her right hand was still locked in a death-grip on Locke’s pant leg. Further below, looking as though he might pass out from fright, Edgar was still dangling from Locke’s arm. After a few seconds of tense silence, Terra took note of the strange position she’d landed in and looked up to find that the leather belt she’d wrapped around her waist to carry a pouch of seed for the chocobos had caught on the thick branch of a tall tree. They’d been saved by a lonely tree growing in the middle of the mountain. Edgar’s hanging feet were less than five feet from the ground.

“What’s this tree doing here?” Terra asked aloud, examining their surroundings. The tree’s great brown body and spindly green leaves were the only color amid a sea of gray.

“Do you honestly give a damn?” Locke replied, laughing out loud with near hysterical relief. “Hey Edgar, think fast!”

Edgar had half a second to prepare before Locke dropped him, but he managed to make the landing with both feet. “Hey!” he cried, though he too was laughing nervously. “You could have broken my legs!”

“It’d be more than you deserve, you idiot!”

Terra was laughing now too. She couldn’t have said why, but it felt so right. They’d almost died, but been extraordinarily lucky…should that really be so hysterical? Disbelief of the situation buzzed around in her head, and yet she couldn’t stop the strange giggles.

With Terra keeping a firm grasp on his leg, Locke swung himself to another branch. He tossed down Edgar’s auto-crossbow – which had gotten tangled in the branches – and helped Terra to safety. Together they descended the large tree that had saved their lives, and Terra promptly gave the trunk a huge hug. She only released the embrace when Locke spoke.

“What is it, Edgar?”

The young king’s brow was furrowed as he examined a piece of wood from the fallen bridge. He ran his fingers along the break, which was straight and perfectly smooth through the first three quarters of the depth of the board.

“This plank was cut,” he announced. There was a gleam of anger in his eyes. “I think someone tried to kill us.”

“But why?” Terra asked.

The voice that answered her was deep, cold, and unforgiving. “Because you dared to scale my mountains.”

Their heads turned, surprised, up to an alcove of rock above and behind the tree. There, crouched like an enormous cat ready to pounce, was a huge, bulging man. His skin and thin ponytail of hair were dark, and the only clothing he wore was a loose pair of black pants. His arms were massive and his muscles twitched and bulged as he stared down at them with hate in his eyes. “Sabin sent you, didn’t he?” he snarled, baring his teeth.

“Who’re you?” Locke retorted.

The murder attempt momentarily forgotten, Edgar posed a different question. “Sabin? Is he here?”

Locke pushed his friend aside and stepped forward, pointing an accusatory finger. “You were shadowing us earlier, right?”

Even from here Terra could see the man roll his eyes. “Brilliant!” he mocked. Then, to their surprise, he placed both hands at the edge of the outcrop and pushed off with mighty force. He propelled himself over them and landed a few feet away on the other side with a foreboding thud. When he stood up to his full height, Locke visibly gulped. The man was even bigger than he’d looked; at least twice the size of Edgar.

“And how unlucky it is that you should have to run into me!”

Edgar got one shot off before the man rushed. The arrow was aimed perfectly, but the man was very fast and very agile. The shot bounced uselessly off the rock wall behind them. The charging bull went straight for the king, but missed when Locke yanked his friend out of the way. While he was distracted, Terra threw out both of her arms, but the fire merely licked at his heels as he leapt to a large rock out of reach. If he was surprised by her use of magic, he didn’t let on. Instead he bowed, grabbed on to either side of the rock – which was almost as big as he was – and began to lift. He hoisted it above his head as though it had no more heft than a wooden chair.

“Watch out!” Terra screamed to the men, but to her surprise the bolder came hurtling straight for her. In a panic move she raised her hands and screamed. The rock exploded brilliantly, showering everyone in shards. Terra and her comrades shielded themselves, but the huge man stood still and allowed a few shards to mar his skin.

“Enough!” he cried, his face clearly wrought with anger. “Away with you!”

It wasn’t magic, of this Terra was sure, but the technique he used then was powerful, beyond what most humans were capable of. He swung his fists, up and down, back and forth, and he created wind. Or perhaps he commanded it… It was hard to explain. Regardless, a mighty wind was conjured where a moment prior there had been nothing. Terra’s dress whipped around her legs and she had to squint her eyes against the sting of the rushing air. Again and again he swung his arms. The wind grew and grew until Terra started to stumble backward. A muffled yell, barely audible, made it to her ears. Leaning into the wind as much as she could, she raised her arms above her head and looked over to the tree. Locke and Edgar were there, hanging on for dear life, Edgar’s cape whipping so violently that it looked like it might rip from his shoulders.

Come on! Locke mouthed, reaching one hand out as far as he dared.

She tried, but the wind tripped her, pushed her off course, and she soon found herself on the ground, nails digging into the rocks in a desperate attempt to stay still. She tried to raise her palms toward the caller of the strange wind technique, but every time she tried she was pushed back even further. Locke was shouting, though there was no way she could have heard him, and Edgar looked one step away from letting go of the tree and running to her.

Terra was just about to shout to them not to move – not that they would have heard – when a large pair of bare arms wrapped around her waist. Before she could twist around to see who the arms were attached to, she found herself being hoisted into the air and carried, as though the wind no longer had any effect. Locke and Edgar were staring in shock, but the new stranger dropped Terra next to them and turned before she could see his face. She stared, instead, at his body. He wore only a loose pair of blue pants and a sleeveless white top, and although he wasn’t freakishly enormous like the other man, his arms were muscular and very large. A short shock of spiky golden hair stood straight up from his head, and the muscles in his back were tensed.

“Give it up, Vargas!” his angry voice exploded over the wind.

“Is that you, Sabin?” Vargas laughed cruelly. He saw that his attack was having no effect and lowered his arms.

With the wind disappearing, Terra leaned forward to look at Sabin’s face. Though the body shape and hair style were very different, she was surprised to see that the face was Edgar’s through-and-through. The eyes, in particular, were absolutely identical.

“Vargas, why’d you do it?” Sabin cried. His hands were clenched into shaking fists. “How could you do in your own father like that?”

Vargas’ face twisted into an ugly sneer. “Fool!” he screamed. “He made the mistake of choosing you as his successor! He snubbed me, his only son!”

Sabin’s shoulders slouched. “No! You’re wrong! You were the one he chose!”

“Liar!”

Sabin shook his head and Terra saw pain on his face. “Our master wanted you to be his successor, not me. He appreciated your spirit…”

Vargas’ whole body was shaking, his face darkening with the rush of blood. “Enough of your lies!” he shrieked, his face contorted with rage. “Now have a taste of my Blizzard Fist, you bastard!”

Terra saw it coming and quickly wrapped her arms around the trunk of the tree. The winds came in one enormous, continuous gust that was as frigid as ice water. Tears sprung to Terra’s eyes as she struggled to see if Locke and Edgar had managed to hold onto the tree. In a moment of panic, when she couldn’t immediately see them, her fingers began to slip.

But it ended almost as quickly as it had begun. Locke and Edgar had lost their grip, but had only flown a few feet before the winds dispersed again. When Terra looked she found that Sabin was only a couple of feet from Vargas now, fists held high in a boxing stance. Vargas was rubbing his chin, his eyes fierce.

“Ahh, Sabin…the Master has taught you well.”

“I guess there’s no avoiding this.”

Vargas raised his hands in a mimic of Sabin’s stance. He was so enormous that Terra couldn’t believe Sabin didn’t tremble.

“Fate made us train together, and fate will send you to your doom!”

Vargas began to charge. The spectators tensed in concern, but in one split second Terra saw a wave of calm and confidence pass over Sabin’s face.

“Blitz technique!” he bellowed. His voice echoed all through the mountains.

Vargas stumbled, and for the first time since he’d appeared before them, there was something other than rage on his face. Terra thought it looked like…fear.

“W-what the-?” he stuttered. “H-he already taught you that?!”

It was an amazing sight; Terra’s eyes flew, trying to follow the movement of Sabin’s fists. Locke and Edgar stared so blankly that it was clear all they saw was a blur of motion. It was hard to watch, but it was also hard not to. Vargas’ head snapped back and forth; his chest, stomach, and arms moved in strange ways with every landing of Sabin’s fists. It was impossible to tell whether it was the last hit that did it, or if Sabin just realized eventually that it was over.

Vargas’ body, beaten to a pulp, dropped unceremoniously to the ground. For a moment Sabin stared at it as though he expected the man to jump back up, but when nothing happened he slowly lowered his fists.

“If only you hadn’t been in such a rush for power…” he said quietly. There was genuine pain in his voice.

The silence was deafening until Edgar could no longer hold himself back and shouted, “Sabin!”

Sabin jumped a mile, as though he’d forgotten anyone else was there. “Big brother?” he replied, spinning on his heels.

The two blond men wasted no more time in sprinting toward one another. Their laughter filled the mountains as they clapped each other on the back and examined the changes that time had brought. Terra was again struck by how identical the two faces were.

“The brothers are reunited!” Locke cried jovially.

“Brother, yes…” Terra smiled and approached the reunion. “At first glance I thought he was a bodybuilder who had strayed from his gym!”

“B-bodybuilder?” Sabin exclaimed. He burst into laughter. “I think I’ll take that as a compliment!” he roared. Soon, however, he turned back to Edgar with a concerned look. “Anyway, brother, what are you doing here?”

“We heard about your Master’s murder,” Edgar explained, looking a little sheepish. He glanced over at Vargas’ body. “We, uh…came to rescue you.”

Sabin guffawed at the irony of it, but there was also a joyous gleam in his eyes. Clearly, Terra thought, the idea of his brother rushing off to save him made him happy.

“Yes, it’s a terrible thing that’s brought us together,” Sabin eventually sighed. He looked to Vargas as well and the pain returned to his eyes. “I’ll miss them both terribly.” He shook his head suddenly and turned back to the others. “But that wasn’t really what I meant, brother. Why are you here, away from Figaro?”

“We were on our way to the Sabil Mountains.”

Sabin nodded slowly, shooting glances at Locke and Terra. “To the Returners’ hideout, no doubt?”

Edgar and Locke nodded.

Sabin raised his eyes to the sky and thought quietly for a moment. “I’ve been watching from afar,” he admitted, “Hoping that the world might regain some of its sanity… At this rate Figaro will be reduced to a puppet state.”

“No!” Edgar exclaimed. He shook his head angrily. “Our time to strike back has arrived! The Empire will pay for all it’s done!”

Sabin’s eyes dropped to meet Edgar’s and the two brothers gazed at each other for a long time. Terra could only assume that they were both thinking about the past…about their father…

Eventually Sabin broke the silence. “Think a ‘bodybuilder’ like me could help you in your fight?” He winked at Terra.

Edgar, in spite of himself, looked surprised. “You’d join us?”

Sabin nodded, his face grave. “I’ve been sheltered away here, studying, for too long.” His gaze returned to the still body of Vargas and a sad smile appeared on his face. “Besides, I think Master Duncan would rest easier if he knew his disciple played a part in bringing peace to the world.”

Edgar couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He happily clapped his beefy brother on the shoulder. “Come then,” he said joyously. “We’ll need a guide down the mountain. And also,” his eyes glanced toward Terra, “There is much to talk about.”

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”.

Edgar - FingerLocke - DeadTerra - Cast
*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.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 3 – 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”.

Edgar - Shocked Locke - Shocked          Terra - Glance
*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

She’d done it. She hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone, but she had let instinct take over, and instinct told her to protect the men who had protect her.

The flames that had erupted from her palms began to slowly die down, revealing a scorched and twisted mess of metal in their wake. Terra gradually lowered her arms, leaving the last of the fire to burn itself out, and turned in disgust from the smoking, stinking heap.

The look on Edgar’s face took her by surprise. Rather than looking relieved, she found him staring at the smoldering fires with eyes as wide as saucers, his jaw hanging slightly open.

Locke was hoisting himself from the ground, rubbing his head and stretching to peer around Edgar’s chocobo. “What’s happening?” He blinked a few times at the pile of melted metal and then up at Edgar’s shocked expression. “W-what’s the matter?” he asked in concern. “Edgar, you look positively spooked!”

“D-did you see what I just saw?” Edgar stammered.

Locke glanced back to the receding flames and then, oddly enough, started to examine Terra from every angle. “You loaded for bear, kid?” he asked, and Terra realized he was looking for the weapon she’d used to cause such destruction.

“She’s amazing!” Edgar exclaimed suddenly, startling his chocobo. He turned his wide eyes to Locke’s. “That was magic! Magic!” He said the word as though it meant something both holy and terrifying.

“M-m-magic?” Locke stuttered. He looked at Terra, and then back at the destruction behind her. He was looking with new eyes this time. His eyebrows raised and his mouth dropped open in realization, his face now a mirror of Edgar’s. “She used magic?”

“Terra…” Edgar barely whispered. “Where in the world did you learn…?”

Terra’s face was hot and her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. She clenched and unclenched her fists, confused and upset, completely insecure and unable to speak. What had she done wrong? She’d saved them, hadn’t she? What was the problem? Why were they looking at her that way?

“I…sorry…I…” she whispered, her voice cracking painfully. “I…I just…”

The pain on her face registered something in Locke and he shook himself out of his own bewilderment. He shoved past Edgar’s chocobo and rushed to grab one of Terra’s hands. “No, no, it’s okay!” he promised frantically. “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to make such a big deal out of it!”

“Me either!” Edgar insisted loudly. He hopped from his chocobo and rushed forward as well. “It’s just that I’ve never actually seen magic before…where did you…?”

Locke cut him off at the strange look in Terra’s eyes. “Look, Edgar…Terra can use magic and we can’t, and that’s it! She’s still our friend, and frankly we could use her help. She certainly saved our hides just now!”

Terra’s heart fluttered again, but for new reasons this time.

“You’re right, of course,” Edgar admitted. “This doesn’t change anything, naturally. She’s still just Terra.” He grinned at her, his smile genuine and sincere.

She let her face break into a smile and allowed instinct to take over once again. “Thank you Locke!” she cried, wrapping her arms around him for a quick, tight embrace. She squeezed once, firmly, before releasing him and giving Edgar the same treatment. “Thank you Edgar!” By the time she stepped back again both their faces were red as roses.

“Stop swooning!” Locke hissed under his breath at Edgar.

“You stop swooning!” Edgar hissed back.

The voice was distant, but they all heard the enraged shriek coming from the direction in which Figaro Castle no longer stood.

“Perhaps we should move on?” Edgar suggested urgently.

With everyone in full agreement, they quickly saddled up on the remaining two chocobos – Locke squeezed on with Terra – and took off to the south-east as fast as the birds would allow. Kefka’s furious screams eventually faded into the early morning air.

“He’s scary,” Terra observed quietly. She couldn’t stop picturing his abnormally pale skin and blood-like makeup.

Her simple observation caused Locke to chuckle, but there was little humor in the sound. “He certainly is.”

They rode in silence for several long minutes before Terra spoke up again. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Through South Figaro and then into the mountains,” replied Edgar. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Another Returner,” Locke explained. “Our mentor, Banon.”

“He will surely like to meet you,” Edgar said, smiling at the thought. “Especially with what we now know. Your magic just may be the key to winning this war.”

“Magic…” Terra rolled the word around in her mouth. It sounded familiar, but ultimately meant nothing to her.

“Terra has magical powers,” Locke said, mostly to himself. “According to Arvis, that esper seemed to…react to her. Could there be some connection?”

Terra thought about it for a moment, but nothing came to her. “I haven’t the foggiest,” she said honestly. “I didn’t really think about it. It just seems completely natural to me that I have the use of this power. It’s like breathing.”

Edgar frowned. “But no human is born with the sort of power you seem to have, and-”

Terra’s face had fallen again and Locke was glaring daggers at the king.

“I apologize,” Edgar said quickly. “I just meant that you’re very unique. I’m sure the Empire will be coming after you, and if they get their hands on you again…well, it won’t be good for anyone.”

Terra imagined the death and destruction her powers could cause under the influence of another slave crown. “What should I do?” she pleaded.

“You want to understand all of this, right?” Edgar asked. “Then I think we should consult with Banon. He is very wise.”

Terra didn’t reply, but after a moment she gave a quiet nod.

“Alright then. There’s a cave in this direction that will take us to South Figaro. We’ll make our way there and rest for the night.”

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

Since I’ve decided to start working on this project again as a way of getting my word count up, I’m going to keep posting bits of this for a while. Enjoy!

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”.

Edgar - FingerTerra - Blink (Left)       Locke - Laugh
*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

“Almost…there…” Locke panted. “Just over…this next dune…I’m sure of it this time…”

Terra raised an eyebrow. Although she wasn’t nearly as exhausted and uncomfortable as Locke seemed to be, she reached up to swipe a bead of sweat from her forehead.

The climate had changed dramatically throughout their journey. On the second day they’d reached a moderate zone at the bottom of the mountains. Once here the temperature began to rise exponentially as they headed south. On the third day Terra had to shed Locke’s jacket as they traveled alongside a babbling river. On the fourth, they left the forest behind for warm, wide-open plains. By the morning of the fifth they’d passed into the desert, the scorching sun beating down on them mercilessly. It was here, somewhere, that Locke claimed they would come to Figaro Castle, but Terra was beginning to doubt his sanity. All she could see in any direction was endless golden sand.

Terra hadn’t asked any questions since that first night, making it a very long and awkward journey. Locke had attempted to prompt her a few times, but mostly they had walked in silence, stopping only to sleep and eat dried meats and fruits from Locke’s pack. It had been very uncomfortable for Locke, but necessary in Terra’s eyes. She was as yet unsure what she should and shouldn’t say around the young man. Did he know of her affiliation with the Empire or didn’t he? If he did, was he still helping her out of the goodness of his heart, or was she really a hostage? And if he didn’t, what would he do if she told him? Would he continue to help her, or would he leave her for dead here in this awful wasteland?

Her heart and instincts told her she could trust him, but good old fashioned fear kept her from risking it.

“Oh thank the bloody maker!” Locke sighed from the top of the dune. “We finally made it!”

Part of her (the part that was hot and tired) suspected that he had contracted sun stroke and was gazing lovingly down at another particularly large dune. She was therefore genuinely surprised when, upon reaching the apex of the mound of sand herself, she found what could only be described as a fortress, plunked right in the middle of the desert.

It was both beautiful and extremely impressive, its thick black stone contrasting against the endless golden sand. The outer wall structure ran all the way around in a perfect square, with a tall, circular tower rising up from each corner. Up through the center of the structure rose a fifth square tower where one could stand and overlook the entire fortress and the sands beyond. From a pole on this central tower flew three flags, though at this distance Terra couldn’t distinguish the designs.

Locke was halfway down the dune by the time Terra stopped staring. She followed him at a quicker trot than usual, sand sneaking into the crevices in her boots. She was as eager as he was to get in out of the unforgiving sun.

“Hey!” Locke was calling to the guards when Terra caught up to him. “Open the gate, will you? We’re dying out here!”

The guards were squinting in the sun and holding their crossbows at the read as they walked closer, but Terra saw that one of them was grinning. “Ah, it’s you!” he chuckled. “Get lost in the desert again?”

“I don’t get lost,” Locke snarled, but there was a good-natured tone in his voice. “Just let us the hell in already!”

All three guards laughed out loud now, but they signaled to a fourth who was on the inner side of the large, cross-hatched steel gate. It creaked open slowly and the guards ushered Locke and Terra in, snickering the whole time. The gate clanged back down behind them once they were safely inside.

They were in a great courtyard lined with potted plants and bustling with people. Terra tried to look around – her eye caught a man with a cart selling fresh bread to a crowd of laughing women and children – but Locke continued to stride purposefully forward. She had to jog alongside him to keep up.

“What’s the rush?” she asked. As she trotted along she turned with interest to watch a man with a chest plate teaching some young boys how to properly swing a sword.

“The king will be wanting to see us immediately,” Locke explained.

Clamping her mouth shut, Terra once more wondered if she wasn’t truly a hostage in all this. With a stab of panic she wondered if the king would have guards waiting to toss her in the dungeon and Locke was leading her straight to them. For a moment she hesitated, but she barely missed half a step before she continued along. The castle gate was shut; it wasn’t as though she could make a run for it now.

Locke led her into the main building of the castle, down hallways covered in beautiful carpets, up staircases lined with flowers and burning lanterns sprinkled with sweet-smelling incense. They passed through many doorways guarded by men in full, shining armor who carried large spears or swords. Some, like the guards at the gate, clutched crossbows to their chests. Terra’s eyes darted in every direction, but there was simply too much to be seen. She realized after the eighth or ninth passageway that she couldn’t remember how to get back to where they’d started.

By the time they came to a pair of large, ebony doors that could only be the entrance to the throne room, Terra’s heart had begun to beat irregularly. What was going to happen in there? She had little idea, and the thought of not knowing made her clench her fists until her fingernails bit deep into her palms.

Locke strode confidently past the guards – who didn’t give a second glance – and pushed the huge doors open just wide enough for the two of them to walk through.

The first thing Terra noticed was that the large room had an exceptionally high ceiling, but soon her eyes were drawn to the lavish decorations, the carpets and wall-hangings of crimson and gold. At the far end of the room stood two gorgeous thrones, the arms and backs of which were carved in intricate designs, with the seats covered in plush red velvet. The thrones, however, were both empty, as was the rest of the room, save for one tall man standing over a table littered with scrolls and maps. Terra relaxed a little at the absence of any guards.

The man at the table looked up at their arrival and Terra found herself surprised to see that he was rather young. She’d been expecting a man of age and wisdom, but this man couldn’t be more than thirty – not that much older than Locke or herself.

“Locke!” he cried, smiling. “You’ve returned!”

Terra stood resolutely on the spot as the two young men strode to meet at the center of the room. The greeted each other like the best of friends, shaking hands and patting each other on the shoulder. This man did not fit at all with Terra’s idea of what a king should be. He was tall and lean, with bright blue eyes and long golden hair that was pulled into a braid and hung halfway down his back. His navy and silver clothing, complete with a cape that billowed down to his ankles, were certainly regal enough, but they were wrinkled and dirty in several places. Though it was barely noticeable – he’d clearly attempted to clean himself up after whatever he’d been into – Terra’s eyes were sharp and she got the distinct impression that he’d been working with some sort of mechanical grease…not a very likely sort of thing for a king to be up to.

The king looked over at her suddenly, the smile on his face gone and replaced by a look of interest. Terra started to straighten her posture subconsciously, though she’d already been standing at rapt attention.

“You mean this young woman?” he asked aloud. Terra realized she must have missed part of the conversation during her assessment of his appearance.

The king walked toward her, a very inquisitive look on his face, and stopped with a few feet between them. Terra met his eyes, but his gaze quickly shifted. As she watched in confusion, the young king studied her body from head to toe before turning swiftly back toward Locke.

Terra’s face grew hot and the words came tumbling out all at once. “Hey! Just who the hell do you think you are?”

From the center of the room Locke burst into raucous laughter. The king speedily turned back to face her, his cape rustling around his shoulders, embarrassment clear on his near-flawless face.

“Oh! My apologies!” he gushed. “How absolutely rude of me to turn my back to a lady!” He swept in majestically, and before Terra knew what had happened, he’d scooped one of her hands in both of his and gently kissed the back of it. “I am Edgar, king of Figaro.” He paused and flashed a dazzling smile, which made Terra blink in surprise and puzzlement.

With a snicker, Locke sauntered up next to them and leaned in with a grin. “Surprised someone like me knows a king?” he asked. Then, without so much as a warning, he winked and said, “See you a bit later!” and dashed out of the room, closing the doors behind him.

Terra stared after him, her mouth hanging slightly open, feeling betrayed and abandoned.

“So!” Edgar said, still holding Terra’s hand. “You’re an Imperial soldier!”

Terra’s head whipped back to face the king and her heart sped up. So Locke had known!

“No worries, no worries!” Edgar laughed at the look on her face. “Figaro and the Empire are allies! Besides, it’s not in my blood to harm a lady.” He flashed that dazzling smile again. “Please relax while you are here in my castle.”

Allies? Terra thought. But what about the Returners?

Delicately, she pulled her hand from Edgar’s grasp and gave him an appraising look. “Be honest,” she insisted. “Why are you helping me?” Images flashed through her head; memories that had been slowly returning to her of the invasion of Narshe, of her uncanny reflexes and eagle-eye aim. “Is it…is it because of my abilities?”

Edgar turned from her for a moment, pondering the question. “I’ll give you three reasons,” he announced after a mere moment. Glancing back at her out of the corner of his eye, he held up one finger. “First of all, your beauty has captivated me.” He turned fully to face her and continued before she could respond. “Second, I’m dying to know if I’m your type…” He flashed his grin again and, although he was handsome and confident, Terra found herself cringing internally. “I guess your…abilities…would be a distant third.” He waved this last off as though it was information of no consequence.

Terra was completely bewildered.

“Wh-…what’s with you?”

The change in his facial expression was infinitesimal, but Terra registered the flash of disappointment before Edgar managed to gather himself.

“Well then, if you will excuse me, m’lady,” he said with an unusually steady grin. “I have some important issues to attend to. Please feel free to wander about the castle at your leisure.” He bowed politely before turning to stride, missing a step halfway, back toward the cluttered table. As he walked away he muttered under his breath. The words were likely meant for his ears only, but Terra’s were exceptionally keen and she picked them out of the air easily: “Guess my technique’s getting a bit rusty…”

Terra stared at the king’s back for a moment, hesitated twice, and finally she quietly slipped out through the huge doors. A poorly-stifled snicker met her and she turned to find Locke lounging against the wall. He was attempting, and failing, to control his hysterics.

“Turned him down flat, didn’t you?” he chuckled. “I thought you might. I was hoping on it actually. Little lecher needs a good bit of rejection every now and then.” He was laughing out loud by the end.

Terra contemplated his words, wondering if she should find the situation as humorous as he did, or if perhaps she should be angry. Maybe there was some other emotion that would be suitable for this strange situation?

“Well…” she murmured, thinking about the king’s odd wording, “I suppose…I suppose any normal girl would have found him dashing.”

But I’m hardly normal… she added to herself.

Locke snorted once before pushing off the wall and walking over to Terra with his hands in his pockets, a smile on his face. “Ah, don’t worry about it!” he insisted, misinterpreting her meaning. “He’s an insufferable cretin and something like this every now and then would do him good!”

Terra nodded, though she didn’t understand at all.

“Come on then!” Locke trilled on, patting Terra on the shoulder. “Let’s go pay the handmaidens a visit and get you some more suitable clothes.”

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 1 – Part 3)

For your reading pleasure, here is the third part of Final Fantasy: Returning Hope, Chapter One.

Warning: there may be profane language in the following excerpt.

Reminder: you can see the previous posts of this story by choosing “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope” from the Categories drop-down banner on the left side of the blog.

Terra - Sad (Front)Arvis (Left)
*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net*

The pain was immense. She groaned aloud and reached up to her throbbing head but found herself tangled up in a pair of bedsheets. Disoriented and panicked, she kicked and thrashed at the bedding and soon found herself tumbling painfully to the floor with a loud thud.

“Where am I?” she cried, eyes darting around the small bedroom.

“Woah,” a warm voice responded, “It’s okay, just calm down. You’re safe here.”

She turned to the closet where an elderly man with a kind face was placing something away. “I…I don’t remember anything!” she sobbed, her eyes widening in fright, “What’s happening to me?”

The man smiled woefully and took the item he’d been tucking away back out of the closet. It was a thin gold circle of some sort and looking at it filled her with dread, though she was unsure why. “This is a slave crown,” the man explained, “The men you were with, they had complete control over you while you were wearing it. If you’ve been wearing it a long time it may have some adverse effects on your memory, but it should all come back…in time, that is. Can you remember your name?”

She thought, though it was painful, and found that there was something, lingering in the very back of her mind, waiting for her to retrieve it. If she concentrated she could almost see the letters in front of her eyes…

“T…Terra…” she whispered aloud, “Terra Branford. My…my name is Terra Branford.”

“Wonderful!” the older man exclaimed, “Rarely does anyone recover this fast! You should do well.” He walked towards her and Terra found herself scrambling backwards, her back pressed up against the bed she’d fallen from. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said again, with that same warm smile, “I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”

Slowly, analyzing his face, she found she believed him, although she was still terribly frightened. “How did I get here?”

Before the kind man could answer there was a furious pounding from the other side of the house. Alarmed, they both jumped.

“Open up!” a voice bellowed, “Open this door! We know you’ve got her in there and we want her back, old man! That woman is an officer of the Empire!”

“Empire?” Terra stuttered, “Officer? Me? What does he mean?”

The man’s face had gone hard, his eyes narrowed toward the front door of his small home. “I’m very sorry Terra. I’d hoped we’d have more time to chat, but unfortunately it looks like that’s a luxury we can’t afford.” Without warning he jogged over to her, and hauled her up off the floor from under the arm. Dragging her unceremoniously over to a corner, he began to slide a bookcase out of the way of what appeared to be a hidden door, grunting from the heft of his books.

“You’ve got to escape out through the mines while I keep these guys occupied!” he explained hurriedly, “I’m sorry that I don’t have time to explain everything, but I promise I’ll send someone to meet up with you just as soon as he arrives here.”

“I-I don’t want to go alone!” Terra cried, her heart racing, “I don’t know what to do!”

The man’s face softened again, just a little, but he stood resolutely, gesturing towards the door. “I am terribly sorry, but believe me when I say you’ll be better off running. I promise that someone will meet you as soon as possible. Just keep out of sight of the miners and you should be fine.”

She was confused, her head still throbbed, and she hadn’t the slightest clue what was happening to her. Every thought in her mind screamed out in protest of this entire situation. However, she found that she wasn’t exactly overwhelmed with choices.

“I’ll…I’ll go,” she finally agreed, a few hot tears brimming in her eyes, “But please…make sure someone comes soon.” She didn’t wait to hear a response because she was frightened she’d lose her nerve.

It was dark outside and the wind was freezing. A few burning lanterns gave Terra enough light to see the small wooden bridge extending from the hidden door, over the street, and into a small cave opening. She started to creep carefully forward and instantly winced at the noise she created. Examining herself for the first time she found she was covered in bits and pieces of bronze armor. Carefully, painstakingly, she peeled the armor away and laid it carefully down on the bridge, piece by piece until she was wearing only the basic grey jumpsuit meant as an undergarment. Free of the noisy coverings, she scrambled to the cave as quickly as she dared while still keeping as quiet as possible.

The cave was either part of one of the mine shafts that was currently being excavated, or else the old man kept it lit with small strings of lanterns for just such an occasion. Terra crept through quietly at first, but a yell near the cave’s entrance sent her into a panicked run. She wasn’t sure why she was so frightened, but some instinct told her to trust the old man and to fear the men who had pounded on his front door. She ran through tunnels, unthinking, taking a left, then a right, never debating where she was going or where she might end up, until eventually she found herself at a dead end.

“Oh…” she muttered, halting in front of the solid stone wall, “Dammit.”

“There she is!” a voice echoed through the tunnel.

Terra spun around, eyes wide, to find half a dozen men with mine picks and at least one rifle barreling down on her. Somehow she’d managed to navigate herself right into their hunting party.

“Alright, Missy,” the man with the rifle spoke in a gruff voice, “Don’t try and escape now. We’ve got you cornered. Just come quietly.”

Terra’s heart raced and a few hot tears rolled from her eyes. What do I do? she thought.

“What do you want from me?” was what she screamed, “Leave me alone!”

The men took a few steps forward, not answering her cries, and she pressed herself up against the wall.

“No!” she screamed as loudly as she could manage, “Stay back!”

A deep rumbling sound came from somewhere close by and the men stepped back in surprise and alarm. “Shut up!” one of them hissed at Terra, “Not so loud! You’ll bring the place down!”

“Get away!” she shrieked again, ignoring his warning and straining her voice.

It happened so suddenly that the men barely managed to scramble away. Terra didn’t even attempt to move as the stony floor crumbled beneath her.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 1 – Part 2)

For your reading pleasure, here is the second part of Final Fantasy: Returning Hope, Chapter One. This part is a bit long because I want to break up the parts of the story into chunks that are easy to read, rather than cutting them up in the middle of scenes.

Warning: there may be profane language in the following excerpt.

Reminder: you can see the previous posts of this story by choosing “Final Fantasy: Returning Hope” from the Categories drop-down banner on the left side of the blog.

Terra - M-Tek (Front)Vicks - M-Tek (Front)Vicks - M-Tek (Front)
*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net*

Approaching the mining town, the soldiers’ ears met only sounds associated with steam power. All around them machinery popped, hissed, and belched puffs of smoke, but not a single person was to be seen anywhere. It was not likely that their approach had gone unnoticed. Three sets of Magitek armor made a fair bit of clamor.

“Let’s put her on point,” Wedge suggested, gesturing at the woman, “No point in taking any risks.”

In a v-formation with the woman at the front, they moved steadily yet cautiously into the center of town. The din of wind, steam, and machinery was everywhere, but the lack of living creatures was unnerving. There were lights shining through the curtains of many houses, yet no shadows moved within. If there were any humans tucked away in those buildings, they weren’t making themselves known.

Somewhere nearby came the unmistakable sound of rocks being kicked off of a ledge. Biggs and Wedge turned quickly, but it all happened so fast that they almost missed it. A very large dog that may have easily been a wolf jumped from a bridge spanning two buildings to their left. Teeth bared, a growl on it’s lips, the great grey beast hurled itself straight toward the woman’s throat. Unfortunately for the canine, the mysterious woman’s reflexes were unmatched. Even knowing to watch for the reaction, one could scarcely have seen her move. Before Biggs, Wedge, or the wolf-dog knew what was happening, a startlingly violent flash of flame erupted from the front of the woman’s armor. A yelp rang out through the dark town and the poor beast collapsed to the ground in a scorched, stinking heap.

A strangled cry burst from the shadows to the left, presumably from the owner of the recently deceased guard dog.

“Biggs!” Wedge yelled, “Over there!” He raised his right cannon arm towards the noises.

“Over here too!” Biggs responded, glimpsing movement to his right.

“For Narshe!” a strong voice bellowed from behind them.

The altercation was a short one. Though the miners were plentiful and determined, they also wore very little in the way of bodily protection and carried no weapon more powerful than a hunting rifle. Between the disturbingly fast skills of their point-woman and cover fire from Biggs and Wedge, soon the ground was littered with two dozen men and another handful of curiously large canines.

“Retreat!” someone screamed, and the remaining miners took of in several different directions.

Biggs made to give chase to a larger group scrambling up a hillside, but Wedge held him back. “Let them go. Our source said the esper was found in a new mine shaft.” He pointed towards a grouping of mine entrances at the far end of the mountain town. One had wooden braces which looked much newer than the others.

With a last longing glance towards his quickly escaping prey, Biggs grumpily followed Wedge and the woman into the fresh mine shaft. The rocky passageway had been masterfully excavated; it was easily wide enough that, had they wanted to, they could have walked side by side. The bracing was such that the shaft might easily stand for a hundred years. Humming lights lining the walls suggested that there had been work going on here very recently, if it wasn’t still going on.

There were two adjoining passageways, so they took the one that looked as though it went deeper. But before they’d gone very far at all they were blocked by a messily boarded up doorway that looked very much like it had been hastily constructed within the past half hour.

“I’ll handle this,” Biggs offered, raising one of his mechanical arms. The arm hummed and whirred; the cuff around the ‘wrist’ spun, pulling the metal hand back through the arm to be quickly replaced by a long, thin missile. “Stand back!” Biggs demanded, and the woman compliantly stepped to one side. With a squeal and a flash the missile was released, and with one explosive burst of energy the makeshift door was reduced to scrap.

As the dust began to clear, a distinctive coughing could be heard from the uncovered room.

“We won’t just hand over the esper!” a hoarse voice cried, “Destroy them, Whelk!”

The rock ground, walls, and ceiling began to tremble. Biggs and Wedge took a surprised step backwards as the passageway filled with an enormous creature the likes of which they’d never seen. It’s body was a massive spiral shell that shined and shimmered in the meager mine light. Bulging out from underneath the shell was an immense slug-like creature. It’s flesh was thick, brown, and extremely slimy, and two huge eye stalks swiveled horrifically on the top of what must have been it’s head.

Without thinking, Biggs quickly loaded another missile into his Magitek arm, “I’ll take care of this fucking monster!”

“No, wait!” Wedge cried, but a moment too late. The missile impacted upon the creature’s shell. Biggs grinned at the shrieking squeal it emitted, but his face quickly dropped. The clearing dust revealed no physical damage to the shell, which was now suddenly glowing a bright white light which filled the mine.

“Get out of the way!” Wedge shoved at Biggs’ armor, almost tripping them both before they could steady themselves. Within a second of the push, a precisely directed bolt of lightning demolished the wall where Biggs’ head had just been.

“Shit!” Biggs screamed, “What the fuck?”

“I read about this thing,” Wedge explained quickly, “A lightning whelk. These things follow around storm systems, ‘eating’ lightning and storing the energy in their shells. Attacking the shell releases bursts of that stored energy.”

“Okay, okay!” Biggs yelled impatiently, “So we’ll attack the head then!”

They stepped forward together, but jumped back in surprise when the whelk screeched again and released several smaller bolts of electricity. All around them bits of wall exploded. The whelk’s eye stalks writhed maddeningly.

“On second thought,” Wedge grumbled to himself, “Hey, witch!” The woman was still standing silently to one side; she turned her head to Wedge’s voice. “Kill that thing!” he commanded.

The Magitek armor moved casually, as though it were going for a leisurely stroll. The woman moved to stand in front of the nightmarish whelk. Lightning crashed all around her but she didn’t even seem to notice, and miraculously did not get hit. The whelk looked down at her, eye stalks twisting as though it were confused as to how she’d gotten so close. It’s shell began to glow, but before a single volt could be released two huge mechanical hands reached up and grasped the creature’s thick, slimy neck. It screeched in alarm and it’s eye stalks bulged from the pressure. The Magitek hands squeezed tighter as gears began to turn and shift. Excluding the missile cannons in the arms, every weapon on the armor clanked noisily into place and aimed at the massive neck. Through it’s significantly compressed throat, the whelk let out a final echoing screech before it’s hide was sliced open by a barrage of fire, electricity, explosives, and blunt weaponry. Without any feelings of remorse, or even a real comprehension of what she’d done, the woman tossed the twitching head unceremoniously aside.

“Yes, well…I suppose that will do…” Wedge stammered. Biggs couldn’t reply, as his jaw was hanging clear open. “Let’s, um…let’s move on then, shall we?” A little sick to their stomaches at the gruesome display, the men nervously waved the woman forward.

They crept cautiously into the recently blocked-off cavern, but whoever had set the whelk on them had evidently decided he’d rather be elsewhere.

“Look!” Wedge hissed.

There, sitting at the back of the hollowed-out room, was a massive crystal of ice. Within it’s confines stood a being that neither Wedge nor Biggs would have ever been able to describe if they’d been asked. It’s enormous wings were wrapped around it like a cape as though it had been trying to warm itself in it’s last moments. The feathers had a magnificence that could never be put into words. It was as though every strand of down was singing a sad song of light and dark, peace and war. Biggs and Wedge were captivated by the feathers. The woman, however, was staring directly into the esper’s pure white eyes. They seemed to be staring resolutely into hers, examining her, trying to speak to her.

Without being prompted, the woman slowly climbed out of her Magitek armor and took a few tentative steps forward. Wedge caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and dragged his attention away from the singing feathers. “Hey!” he yelled, “Where do you think you’re going?”

As she continued to move slowly forward, the frozen creature began emitting an eerie light, as though a flickering candle was being reflected through the many facets of the ice crystal.

“What’s this?” Wedge exclaimed, “Where’s this light coming from?”

Biggs barely had time to turn to his comrade before there was a bone-chilling scream and Wedge vanished in a flash of light.

“W-Wedge?” Biggs exclaimed, “Wedge! Where are you? W-what’s happening?”

No one would ever know what Biggs saw at that moment, but if the woman had been looking at him she’d have seen his eyes go wide and his mouth open in silent horror before a second flash of light swept him away to join his comrade.

The woman was not, however, watching her fellow soldiers vanish into the light. She was hypnotized by those white eyes. Without moving or giving any kind of indication that it was even alive, the esper was boring into her soul, analyzing her, wordlessly interrogating her. The feathers were not only singing now…they were performing a lament the likes of which human ears have never heard, and never will. The glimmers of light coming through the ice were blinding, though she was unable to close her eyes against them.

Her lip quivered and all at once a million thoughts came rushing through her head, filling her mind with painful images that made no sense to her. She grasped her head and cried out, falling to her knees on the hard ground.

“Who are you?” she cried with a hoarse voice that had not been used in a very long time, “What do you know about me? Please! Tell me, who am I?”

And with a final flash of light, she lost consciousness and dropped to the ground.