Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 10 – Part 2)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Enjoy, and also check out FanFiction.net, where I’ll also be posting this story. 

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”.

Terra - Esper - Shocked
*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

The plans were made hurriedly, given that they were not blessed with time. Terra listened with interest as the men shouted ideas at each other, dismissed several, and eventually settled on the best they could come up with under such duress. A team of miners and other Narshean citizens were assigned to guard the town, with instructions that they stay hidden and only emerge should the Empire take fancy to harm the town itself. Otherwise, they were to allow the invaders to pass through the town unhindered. The battle would be fought as far away from any innocents as possible.

Those who remained – the rag-tag group of Returners and about one hundred miners – gathered what weapons the had and began a cold trek up into the mines. Terra felt very conspicuous amongst this group. These were people who were defending their homes, their morals, and their way of life. They were fighting for what they believed to be right. But what was Terra fighting for? She had no idea. She was contemplating this when Celes sidled up beside her on an icy bridge.Read More »

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 10 – Part 1)

Continuing on with Final Fantasy: Returning Hope!

Enjoy, and also check out FanFiction.net, where I’ll also be posting this story. 

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”.

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

While Locke and Celes were making it on foot, and Sabin and his new companions were trekking halfway across the world, Terra, Edgar, and Banon had made their way to Narshe with very little incident. The Lete River had carried them the bulk of the way and they’d made the remainder of the journey in less than a day on foot. They arrived at night, but before they entered the town Terra had posed a request. She was concerned, she told the men, that the townspeople would remember her, and not kindly. She showed them the secret passage that Locke had used when they’d escaped the mountain town, and asked that they take this path instead.Read More »

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 9 – 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”.

Ghost - Sad (Front)Ghost - Sad (Front)Ghost - Sad (Front)
*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

The group of three men and one dog were two hours walk into the forest when Sabin started to break down. He’d had some extreme training over the past several years, but between fleeing the Returners’ hideout, wrestling with a giant octopus, trekking halfway across the continent, and battling his way through an Imperial base, he was well and truly exhausted. Cyan clearly had too much on his mind for one man to deal with, and Shadow had the look of a man who was rapidly losing interest in his journey. Even Interceptor was acting odd, trailing behind with his tail between his legs, whining and looking around at the shadows as though nervous.

“Is he going to be okay?” Sabin asked, gesturing at the shivering pup.

“He smells death,” Shadow replied simply.

Sabin raised his eyebrows, but Shadow offered no more. They continued their traipse through the dark, miserable underbrush.

Some time later, his patience wearing more thin with each passing moment, Sabin was finally ready to call it a night. He was opening his mouth to suggest that they find a place to camp for the night when a sound rang through the trees, a sound so loud that they nearly leapt out of their skins.

It was a steam whistle.

“A train, here?” Cyan wondered with some shock. “But Doma’s railway was destroyed.”

Sabin’s surprise was set aside in favor of joy. A ride! he thought, and burst into a run in the direction of the whistle. It only took a moment before he burst through a cluster of trees and right out onto a docking block. There, looking like a jewel amongst the gloom, was a midnight-black, multi-car steam engine.

“Hey!” Sabin cried, pointing at the single open door directly in front of him. “We can get in right here!”

The others had followed close behind and didn’t seem to share Sabin’s enthusiasm at the prospect of a ride.

“Sir Sabin…” Cyan gasped out nervously.

“We can’t wander around out here forever!” Sabin rationalized with a grin. “We absolutely have to get on board!”

Cyan’s eyes had gone wide. “But Sir Sabin!”

“Don’t worry!” Sabin insisted. He jogged through the open door without a care in the world. “Let’s go!”

“Sir Sabin!” Cyan exclaimed in horror.

As soon as he was inside the car, Sabin realized something was wrong. All the seats were empty. There was no sign of a single soul. “What the-?” he muttered.

The others rushed in behind him, Interceptor crying openly and Cyan looking very much as though he might vomit.

“Sir Sabin!” he begged. “Please, we’ve got to get off this train!”

Sabin had half a second to realize that Cyan was probably right before the door behind them suddenly slammed shut. Shadow quickly turned and gave the handle a good yank, but it didn’t budge. Less than a second later, the steam whistle blew again and the group felt the floor lurch beneath their feet.

“I-it’s moving!” Sabin observed stupidly.

Cyan groaned and yanked at the door, willing it to open though he was certain it wouldn’t. “We’re too late,” he sobbed.

“What’s with this train?” Sabin demanded. “What the hell are you so freaked out about?” Despite himself, he found that his heart was starting to beat strangely fast.

Cyan’s face was somehow pale and dark at the same time as he turned his back on the immovable door. “This is the Phantom Train,” he explained. “It carries the departed to…the other side…”

Sabin felt bile rise in his throat. “A-are you serious?”

Cyan nodded. He looked like a reasonable man, Sabin thought, but he was absolutely sure of his fantastical claim.

“I have also heard such stories,” Shadow offered with his usual stoic calm. “And it would explain why Interceptor is so upset.” He gestured to the whining hound who had just emptied his bladder in the corner of the car.

“B-but,” Sabin cried, beginning to genuinely panic, “Wait a sec! I don’t wanna go there!”

Cyan’s face was turning green. “We all have to go sometime.”

“I have things to do here!” Sabin was shouting hysterically now. “We have to stop this thing! Let’s make for the engine.”

Sabin took off at a sprint for the next car, but stopped dead in his tracks when he opened the door. Cyan, having run after him in a desperation not to be left behind, slammed into him. The two of them gaped at the car before them with a mixture of fear and amazement.

The car was filled with spirits. Some were thick, solid white masses with a scarcely human shape to them. Others had very visible human features but were barely more than wisps of smoke. Some were wandering aimlessly, while others were curled up in seats, staring out the windows as though not really seeing anything in front of them.

“Would you prefer to stay here then?”

Sabin and Cyan jumped and turned to Shadow. He was staring at them incredulously while comforting Interceptor. Sabin shook his head emphatically and Cyan shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. Shadow raised an eyebrow.

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’,” Sabin muttered. He took a couple of deep breaths, shot a look at Shadow, and plowed into the car with Cyan hot on his heels.

One of the solid white apparitions took immediate notice of them and wafted up into Sabin’s path. Sabin stiffened visibly and looked for a way to get around it.

“We’re looking to disembark,” came Shadow’s calm voice from the back of the pack. “Can you lead us through to the engine room?”

Strangely, the featureless mass managed to establish an almost amused demeanor. It nodded, turned, and beckoned the group to follow. Sabin and Cyan couldn’t move for shock. Shadow shoved past them while keeping a comforting hand on Interceptor’s head. Sabin looked back at Cyan with wide eyes. Cyan shrugged and steadied his hand on the hilt of his sword before nodding.

The strange spirit almost seemed to dance through the cars ahead of them. It seemed to be the highlight of its night to give them a tour of the train. Every so often one of the other specters would glance their way – one wispy woman with terrified eyes stared at them as long as she could see them from her seat – but for the most part they didn’t seem to notice the intruders at all.

“This is creepy as hell,” Sabin muttered with a shudder.

“Can we trust…it?” Cyan asked while waving a hand toward their guide.

Sabin shrugged a little. “Do we have a choice?”

Several cars forward, Cyan noticed that they had attracted a follower. A spirit that looked very solid, but only had the barest semblance of human form, was trailing very close to their group. Cyan nudged Sabin and pointed. While their heads were turned, their guide halted to a dead stop.

“What’s wrong?” Sabin inquired. He looked past the spirit to see that another specter was blocking the doorway to the next car. They were currently outside on their walkway between cars, the ground and tracks hurtling along beneath them. They could only move forward into the next car or backward into the one they’d just left.

“I believe we’ve been herded,” Shadow spoke up. There was a hint of amused interest in his voice. The spirit that had been following them had been joined by three friends and the four of them were blocking the return path. The spirit blocking the forward path made a low hissing noise that could just barely be understood by human ears: “N.o…e.s.c.a.p.e…”

Sabin’s face paled and Cyan nervously reached for his sword.

“It will do no good to fight them,” Shadow explained, ever calm. “They’re already dead.”

“Then what the hell do you expect us to do?” Sabin demanded. Several more spirits were pushing out from each of the surrounding cars. They were rapidly becoming outnumbered four to one.

“Sir Sabin,” Cyan cried, pointing, “There!” The spirit that had been guiding them had shimmied up onto the roof of the car and was gesturing to a thin ladder alongside the door, almost invisible in the dark.

“N.o…e.s.c.a.p.e…!”

While Sabin and Cyan were chilled by the wispy words, Shadow shoved through the expanding crowd. With what must have been a great effort, he shoved a yelping Interceptor up onto the roof before quickly following by way of the ladder. The other two men were behind him in an instant as more and more specters pushed out of the cars. One of them snatched Cyan’s leg as he climbed, but a frantic flailing of his sword dropped it back to the floor.

The wind was rushing past at breakneck speeds from the top of the car. Cyan’s ponytail and the edges of Shadow’s robes flapped madly as though in emphasis of the dangerous position they’d placed themselves in. And still the spirits were coming, crawling up the ladder and hissing in unison: “You can’t escape…nowhere to run…nowhere to hide…”

Cyan looked over the edge with a grimace. “I believe we’re stuck!” he yelled over the wind. He raised his sword, ready to fight the advancing swarm, but Sabin was looking at their guide, who was frantically gesturing forward. The stack of the engine was visible from only a few cars away, belching thick puffs of smoke into the night air. The friendly spirit was making a strange motion, a kind of arch through the air.

Sabin nodded. “Okay!” he shouted.

“You have an idea?” Cyan swung his sword threateningly at the hissing spirits.

The grin on Sabin’s face was forced and nervous. “The time has come to see if all of my training has paid off!” he announced. Without so much as a word of warning, he grabbed a yelping Cyan, threw him over his shoulders, and ran for the far end of the car. If it hadn’t been such a precarious situation, Cyan’s shriek might have been humorous. As it stood, the move demanded all of Sabin’s concentration, so he barely registered the other man’s cry. He wasn’t nearly as skilled as Vargas had been in this particular technique, but he moved his arms and body in a series of well-practiced patterns and the attempt was successful. The gusts around them bent and twisted just enough to help carry them safely to the roof of the next car. The moment Sabin’s feet landed, Cyan dropped and clamored for something to hold on to, nearly losing his sword over the edge. “Thou couldst have warned me!” he gasped. His face was green.

“No time!” Sabin shouted. Before he could get a snarky response, he leapt back the way he’d come. The spirits were swarming the roof from every direction. Before Sabin could speak Shadow picked up Interceptor and shoved him in the other’s arms. “Take him,” the ever-calm ninja requested. “He’s too heavy for me.”

There was no time to argue. Interceptor cried out in alarm when they jumped, but he stayed perfectly still all the same. Sabin placed him down next to Cyan and turned to get Shadow, but did a double-take instead. He was gone! The spirits were climbing onto the roof, but Shadow was nowhere to be seen.

“Shouldn’t we keep moving?”

Sabin nearly jumped out of his skin. He whirled around to find Shadow and their spirit guide standing behind a gaping Cyan.

“How the hell did you-?” Sabin shook his head. “Forget it. Let’s move!”

They shimmied down the ladder. Sabin and Cyan made to run, but Shadow stopped them. “Look,” he said, pointing. It was a large stone peg, vibrating madly, holding the cars together.

“We’ll never be able to move-” Cyan never got to finish the thought. Sabin strode forward with a deep breath and a shout, and the shackle burst into chunks and dust. Uncoupled from the chain, the spirit-swarmed car and all the cars behind began to lag behind.

Cyan, despite everything, looked amused. “Thine techniques are truly amazing, Sir Sabin.”

Amazingly, the spirits were still wailing at them as they faded into the distance.

“N.o…e.s.c.a.p.e…!”

“Nowhere to run…nowhere to hide…!”

Sabin couldn’t help but shudder a little. “Bloody persistent.”

“They can’t follow us now,” Shadow pointed out. “Let’s go.”

They encountered no further resistance as their guide led them forward, though they were now terribly wary of every spirit they saw. When they finally came to the engine room door, their guide stepped aside.

“Not coming?” asked Sabin.

The spirit made a motion like a shake of the head and a wave before turning and floating back the way they’d come. Sabin gave Cyan a wary look before moving to the door, taking a deep breath, and stepping inside.

There was no one there.

The three men looked around the room while the dog sniffed cautiously at every corner, but the engine room was definitely empty. There were panels of lights and buttons, sections of walls dedicated to enormous switches and levers, but no one was there to run it all.

Sabin walked up to one of the control panels. “Well, what should we try first?” he asked aloud.

Cyan’s face fell. “Don’t try any of them!” he gasped.

Sabin remembered the fiasco with the Magitek armor and winced. Cyan was clearly a total dunce when it came to machinery, but they had to try something. Wordlessly, Sabin reached forward and flicked a switch. Cyan cringed and Interceptor’s ears went back, but nothing happened.

And just as Sabin was reaching for a second switch, a voice filled the air around them: “SO!”

Their hearts pounded furiously, even Shadow’s. The voice boomed through the car, seeming to be everywhere at once. “You’re the ones who’ve been slowly my progress!” it bellowed.

Cyan’s jaw dropped comically, and Sabin suddenly understood. It was the train. The train was talking to them!

When it became clear that the younger Figaro brother and the Doman retainer had been stunned speechless, Shadow spoke. “Phantom Train,” he said, as calmly as if he were talking to an old friend, “We request permission to depart.”

The hearty laugh that filled the room was so loud that it shook the walls. “And why, precisely, would I want to allow that?”

Shadow spoke matter-of-factly, explaining as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Because we are accidental passengers on this journey, not yet passed on. And because these two,” he gestured to the other men, assuming the train could see him, “are on a mission to fight the Empire.”

The train seemed to take pause. “The Empire, hmm?” it considered. “The Empire has been creating a lot of extra work for me lately. Lots of souls who weren’t yet meant to move on…”

The tone of the train’s voice helped Sabin to find his own. “We’re trying to make our way to meet up with the Returners,” he said. “We want to stop the Empire from destroying more than they already have.”

Cyan seemed like he was going to add something then, but in the end he shut his mouth and averted his gaze from the others.

There was silence for what felt like a long time. Just when they were starting to wonder where the disembodied voice of the train had gotten to, it returned, decisive. “We’re approaching a stop. I will let you go.”

Sabin wanted to pump his fist in the air, but he managed to restrain himself. “Thank you.”

The train immediately began to slow down. “I am leaving you near the south exit of the forest. You will find Baren Falls to the east.” A squealing filled the air as the train’s brakes engaged. The men and the dog steadied themselves. “I suggest you move quickly. I can already feel the march of soldiers’ feet through the forest.”

“Thank you again,” Sabin said. He bowed awkwardly toward the control panel before running for the door and leaping happily at the platform. “Finally off!” he cried.

Cyan was raising an eyebrow. “Hast thou learned something about hopping aboard strange trains?” From where he crouched, patting Interceptor’s head, Shadow let out a single, out-of-character chuckle.

Sabin chose to pretend he hadn’t heard the question. Instead he turned to his comrades with his arms crossed. “We should get moving. Let’s go!”

Cyan nodded in agreement, but Shadow held up a hand as though to say ‘wait’. “We should let them board first,” he insisted.

Sabin and Cyan looked to the other end of the platform to see a mysterious sight. An enormous line of spirits were boarding the train. Unlike the ones they’d previously encountered, these still held onto their earthly forms. They would almost have appeared to be normal, living people, if it weren’t for the unusual glow that surrounded each one of them. They moved on to the train so quickly – literally hundreds of them – that the men scarcely had time to contemplate that what they were witnessing was the exodus of the dead of Doma. That is, until the final two spirits hopped aboard and Cyan let out a strangled cry.

Sabin looked first at Cyan, who was white with horror, and then to the two spirits, who had turned toward the cry. One was a beautiful woman with long blond hair; the other was a young boy, no older than seven. Sabin’s mouth dropped in understanding. “Cyan,” he croaked out, “Is…is that your wife and child?”

Cyan didn’t hear the question. The train’s whistle had blown and broken him from his trance. “No!” he screamed his denial. “Elayne! Owain!” He rushed toward them as the train steamed up and began to pull away. “No! Wait! Please wait!”

Elayne and Owain waved sadly from the train as it picked up speed. Cyan ran, hand outstretched as though to snatch them back from the moving vehicle. “Please!” he screamed, tears streaming down his face. “Stop! Don’t leave me!”

Elayne’s ghostly voice, sad but accepting, floated forward on the wind. “My love, you made me so happy. Don’t forget me.”

And Owain’s, trying to sound strong. “Don’t worry, dad! I’ll take care of mom! I love you, dad!”

Cyan had run out of platform. With a single heart-wrenching cry he dropped to his knees and watched the train disappear from sight.

Shaking all over, Sabin took a step toward the man, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. He turned to look at Shadow, who was shaking his head silently. Sabin’s shoulders drooped.

A long time passed before Cyan finally stood again.

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 8 – Part 4)

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”.

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

Late into the evening, Cyan stood alongside a Doman sentry, peering toward the Imperial base in the distance.

“The base seems to be bustling with energy, Sir,” observed the sentry. “Something must be up.”

Cyan nodded solemnly, eyes narrowed. “If there is, I’m sure we’ll find out about it soon.”Read More »

Fiction Fragment Fridays: Returning Hope (Chapter 8 – Part 3)

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”.

Commander - DeadCyan - Action
*Spites via http://www.videogamesprites.net

Inside the main wall of Doma Castle two sentries were crouched, peering down at the chaos below them.

“It’s hopeless!” said the first. “We can’t keep them out!”

“So it’s finally happening,” moaned the other.

“Lose not ye faith,” came a third voice from behind them. “The battle is not yet lost.”

The sentries’ hearts leapt as they looked up with reverence at the man behind them.

Cyan Garamonde, retainer to the Doman throne, was the man all Doman men aspired to be. He was the definition of honor, strength, and bravery. He wore the dark navy uniform that was traditional to his position with great pride. He was like a father to the younger members of the Doman military, and treated them all with as much care and concern as he did for his own young son. Even his pure black ponytail and mustache – untainted by the silver of middle-age – exuded his regalia, kindness, and confidence.

“They’re reaching the walls, Sir!” cried one of the sentries.

Read More »

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”.

Shadow (Front)Sabin - Action
*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 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”.

Banon - AngrySabin - ActionEdgar - AngryTerra - Glance
*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.