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Chapter Text

Prologue:

The [Ancient] War of the Magi

Powerful people known as ‘Magi’ and destructive creatures known as ‘Espers’

Gifted with powertorend the very elements to the caster’s will

These abilities were known simply as ‘Magic’

Kingdoms’ forces clashed in the violent desire to accumulate more of such power

Armies fell, leaving nothing but stone, ash, and blood in their wake

The ancient War of the Magi…

When its flames at last receded, the world was left a hostile scorched wasteland,

Upon this charred husk of a world which remained, people rebuilt.

Life slowly returned to the barren land.

In the thousand years that followed, everything changed, even the power of magic was lost…

Innovations of Iron, gunpowder, and steam engines took the place of magic

In this new world, high technology reigns.

Yet there now stands one who se ambitions would lead him to seek such ancient power

His actions reviving the dread destructive force known as ‘magic’

As a means by which to conquer all the world.

Can it truly be that those in power are on the verge of repeating

such a senseless...

                                   and deadly

                                                             … Mistake?

- Author unknown “The [Ancient] War of the Magi” found on scrap paper in Vector.

Chapter 1: Snowfall

(?????)

Howling, the wind blew in cold, ice filled gales off the mountain. It tossed up the recent snowfall, blurring the last of the evening's sunlight into a haze, almost mimicking nightfall.

The heavy clangs of Magitek Armor cut sharply through the wind.

“Halt here,” Wedge called out, as he brought his armor to a barely coordinated stop on the stone outcropping. Flicking his hand towards the lights in the distance he turned towards the other two behind him. “There's the city.”

Biggs came to an uncoordinated, sliding stop next to him, the armor’s claw tipped arms automatically adjusting out to keep balanced.

The third of their group came to a smooth stop behind them

“The snowfall for Narshe is about average for this time of the year, making it heavier than I would have liked with the Magitek Armor.” Wedge shook his head with a shrug. “But, orders are orders.”

“Yea! No kidding!” Biggs grinned. “Ha! Want to bet who will munch it on the ice first?”

“Will you please take this seriously,” Wedge said flatly, as he glared at him.

“Ah.” Biggs cleared his throat and shifted slightly. “I mean, it is hard to believe an esper's been found frozen there after so long! A thousand years after the War of the Magi...” He scoffed. “Do you think it is even true?” He waved off his own question. “Bah! It is probably just another wild goose chase.”

Wedge shook his head. “I would probably agree with you but… I don't know . They wouldn't have let us use her,”  he motioned to the third in their group, “unless they were confident that the information was good.”

The girl watched them from the seat of her armor

“Ah, yes… our… witch.”  Biggs leaned forward towards Wedge. “Ya know, I hear she fried fifty Magitek armored soldiers in three minutes... Kinda makes your skin crawl, don't it?"  He shuddered.

“That is just a rumor!” Wedge scoffed. “Besides even if it were true there is no reason to worry.” He motioned to his own head then to her. “The Slave Crown on her head robs her of all conscious thought. She'll follow orders.”

“Speaking of orders, what is the plan of attack?” Biggs asked absently as he hunched down a bit in the seat of his armor.

“Narshe is filled with steam pumps, they make way too much noise. It should cover up the sound of our approach well enough.”

“Sneaking in? With this weather?! Come on! I am cold!”

“Just be glad the armors give off a good amount of heat from the engines,” Wedge said with a sigh.

“It is snowing! These things don’t have a cover over top!” Biggs complained as he brushed snow off his helmet. “Can’t we just go through the city? The buildings will block the wind at least, it will be warmer!”

Wedge paused for a moment before he rolled his shoulders and sat up straight. “Alright, alright enough chit chat. We'll approach from the east through the main gate! Move out!”

Biggs whooped.

The girl did not react

Narshe’s main gate was plenty large enough for the three towering battle armor to easily make it through. It was also only manned by two guards, who were just as easily gone through.

“The girl takes point.”  Wedge said as he motioned the girl forward. “No sense taking any risks, and remember what we are here for.”  He looked flatly at Biggs. “Don't go wasting time on the riffraff.”

“Right this is a no fun zone, got it,” Biggs pouted.

Wedge scowled at him. “We are on a mission.”

“Yea, in the Magitek Armor we never get to use!” he exclaimed while motioning to the large battle armor.

Wedge gave him a withering look. “Just be sure to keep up. Towards the mines! Forward!”  He directed his armor into the city, hissing as the legs slid slightly before catching.

City buildings, homes, and shops, blocked the worst of the wind, as expected, leaving the area markedly less cold. Yet with the armor, it still could not be called warm.

Biggs yelped as one of the legs slid out from under him. Jerking the controls, the other leg scrambled sideways. With a crash, he knocked out a wall. Pieces of the building fell around him, and steam billowed out from a crunched pipe as he tried to get the armor’s clawed feet properly back under him.

“Girl! Slow down!” Wedge snapped before he turned his attention back to Biggs. “Are you ok over there?”

“Yea, yea, still haven't lost the bet!” he yelled while scrambling to catch up.

“There is no bet.”

“Because you know you will lose!” Biggs glanced at the girl. “Damn she is way better with these than we are,” he grumbled, armor legs still unsteady.

“I guess they trained her to use these at some point.” Wedge said with a shrug. “Couldn’t be hard to teach someone who just does what they are told. The crown must be really useful like that.”

“Head empty!” Biggs laughed, motioning by his own head.

“Hold it right there!” A voice called from a side street as a group of Narshe guards stormed out from all sides, and took up formation to block the way. Their trained monsters growled and pawed the frigid ground, as they held ready behind them.

The armors loomed over the Narshe soldiers, and even the largest of the trained monsters could not measure up. Before the Magitek Armor, they were all small.

“Ah, there the Narshe force is! I was starting to wonder if the reports of this place having an army were false!” Biggs grinned. “Caught you flat footed didn’t we!”

Bracing his stance the one in front ordered, “Turn around! Leave! We are a neutral country!” His hands gripped tight around his weapon.

The wind howled

“Naw.” Red light lit up the area as the Fire Beam sliced through the soldiers. Biggs grinned as the Narshe soldiers scrambled away while trying to regroup to retaliate.

It didn't take very many shots, before the fight came to an end.

“Oh, these things are really nice. Three of us in these versus like 20 humans and a handful of monsters.” Wedge smirked at what was left of the Narshe solders. “It could hardly have even been called a fight.”

“Oh yea! It was so easy just ‘pew pew’ then all gone!” Biggs said laughing. “Such a shame we never get to use these things!”

“Yea. I think I will put in to try to transfer to the Magitek division after this.”

“Oh! Good idea!” He paused. “I think I saw they had some openings?”

“Oh! Do they?” Wedge grinned. “Hopefully this experience will move us up in the running for a transfer.”

“Yea! Lets go get more ‘field experience’,” he said with a laugh.

Wedge smiled. “No little ground force will be able to stop us. Maybe you have the right idea. We might as well have fun with this.”

“Now you are talking!”

Continuing on, they cut down anyone they came across, who did not manage to run fast enough. With the newly scorched ground their steps no longer slid on icy stones as they made their way towards the mines. Left behind them was little more than rubble, ash, and blood soaked snow.

The wind howled

Eventually they passed out of the city and into the mines. Wedge called a halt just inside the entrance, and began to shake out his arms.

“Doing a dance?” Biggs laughed as he mimicked him.

Wedge glared at him. “I can barely feel my fingers at this point!” He scowled over to the girl. “She isn't even in warm clothing! Her shoulders are bare! How is she not frozen solid!?”

“Now that I think about it, you have a point.” Biggs blinked and looked over at the girl. “She is just sitting there in that cute little dress. It could not possibly be warm!”

“Well… wait…” Wedge shifted. “Could it be because of the fire witch thing?”

They looked at each other for a minute.

Wedge cleared his throat. “Right! That thing is supposed to be in here somewhere! Spread out a bit and keep your eyes out for anything that looks like a new mine shaft, or even a place they want to keep us out of!”

Biggs nodded as he moved away a bit to look around a corner. “Exploring a mine is way less interesting than I imagined as a kid. Where are the jewel encrusted walls!” he huffed out.

“This isn't that kind of mine.” He paused looking around. “I don’t think?”

“Well, I wanted to pry out a souvenir!”

“Well, just pick up something else! Oh!” Wedge called out. “Over here!”

All three converged in front of a tunnel blocked off by solid wooden cross frames.

“According to our source, they unearthed the frozen esper in a new mine shaft they were digging.” Wedge leaned one way, then the other. “Any idea how to tell if one of these is new?”

He laughed. “Nope!”

“Welp, this one has this wooden.” Wedge motioned to it with a confused noise. “Gate? Thing? So at least it looks like they don’t want people going this way? I didn’t see anything else that looked so new. So, this must be it.”

“As good a guess as any?”

“Ok, so now how to open it? I don’t see a way,” Wedge grumbled.

“Oh! I'll handle this. Stand back!”

Wedge shrugged and backed up.

Setting himself across from the wooden structure Biggs grinned. With a quick jerk of his hands, he slammed the controls all the way causing the armor to careen forward. The wood splintered with a rumbling crash. “There! Path cleared! Oh, how I love these things!” He patted the console.

“Yea! Ok, that’s one way to do it!” Wedge shook his head with a laugh.

The girl blinked

Sudden yelling echoed down from beyond the now cleared opening.

“Well, sounds like the guards are coming.” Wedge glanced at Biggs with a smirk.

Biggs grinned back as he placed his hands on his cheeks. “Oh no,” he responded, laughing.

Narshe guards halted a bit away weapons out and ready. “So, you made it this far! We won't hand over the Esper!!”  the leader exclaimed.

“What is wrong with you!” yelled another person off to the side, as they tossed their hands up and pointed at Biggs. “You didn't even check if that was a crucial mine shaft support!?”

Everyone froze and looked at the rocks over them, someone softly asking, “Wait? … Was it?” as they eyed what was left of the wooden frame nervously.

“Yes!” The previous person motioned to the area. “It was realized after cutting it was unstable! It could have easily collapsed the whole area down on our heads!”

Biggs and Wedge slowly looked down from ceiling, look at each other, and cringed.

The Guard sighed and pinched the bridge of their nose as they muttered, “See this is why we have so much redundancy…” They straightened up, and pinched their fingers together in front of them. “Because of the dangerous nature of digging such shafts, redundancy must be taken to at least the third power.-”

“...thats not…” the leader sighed.

“-Meaning all safety measures must have two back ups in case of-”

“Now is not the time…”

“-There are several types of redundancy for-” they continued.

The leader shook her head. “You know what, whatever… Ymir! Get them...” She motioned to the rest of the Narshe guards to retreat, while grabbing the still talking guard by the arm.

“-depending on the location, type of stone, and use-” their voice faded out as they were dragged away.

“Gwwww”

Wedge jerked, looking around. “Where did that sound come from!”

A large monster, shell tip almost to a height to match the armor, slowly moved forward. The large, spiral shell glowed softly as it settled in to block their path. “Grawwwwwk” With a growl, it tipped its large head forward, both of its eye stalks looking directly at them.

Biggs’ eyes widened. “It must have come up from a side tunnel while we were distracted.” His whole body shuddered as it growled again. “How does the noise not echo off the stone?” He tilted his head. “That is a really nice shell though.”

“Oh! Of course they have a pet monster in this place! They must have trained it to guard the mines!"  Wedge moved forward.

“Oh! The shell! Hold it!"  Biggs yelled. “Think back to our briefing...”

Wedge paused. “What about it?!”

“Do you recall hearing about a monster that eats lightning...”

“...and stores the energy in its shell!”  Wedge paled. “Almost forgot about the lightning whelk! That would have been bad.”

Biggs nodded. “Right. So, girl! Whatever you do, don't attack the shell!”

“Alright already! Lets take it out!”

The girl moved forward letting lose missiles from the armor

Biggs blinked. “How did she do that? Where is that button?” He looked over to Wedge. “Do you have that button?”

Wedge shrugged as he looked down at his controls. “Not that I know of?” He shook his head. “Never mind that! Now isn't the time!” he yelled as he shot a Fire Beam.

“Fire Beam, Bolt Beam, Ice Beam, Heal Force! I am not seeing it!”

“Not the time!”

“But it go boom!” Biggs huffed. “Whatever Fire Beam it is.”

“Wait!”

Biggs fired just as the Whelk ducked inside its shell. The red beam hit the shell and seemed to defuse over the surface. “Whoops.”

The whelk's shell shimmered with the power of the blast. Flashing red light ran up the spiral until it pooled at the tip. With a bright flash, lightning shot out towards Biggs, knocking his bulky armor back. He started cussing as the armor jerked erratically and staggered.

“Are you ok?!”

“Barely!” Flailing at the controls, Biggs activated Heal Force. The soft green light spilled out of the armor making him sigh in relief. “Oh, so much better.” Resettling next to the others he grinned. “Have I mentioned I love these things?”

The Whelk ducked back out of it’s shell, biting at Wedge.

Wedge yelped and fired an Ice Beam. “Might have come up! Lets go!”

Biggs shot a Fire Beam.

The Girl fired more missiles

Wedge blew out a breath as the Whelk stopped moving. “That thing was a harder fight than expected.”

Biggs tilted his head. “Do you think we could get this thing back to Vector? It would make a really nice trophy.”

Wedge gave the shell a good look before he sighed. “It is probably too big. I don’t think we could convince them to clear a space for it on the carrier... Though maybe if you know someone willing to take a pay off.”

He shook his head before they continued.

As they entered the next cavern, the temperature dropped. “There is an odd light coming from over there.” Wedge called out.

In the middle of the cavern sat a large chunk of ice encasing a large serpent-bird like creature. The cold fog rolling down it lowered the temperature further the closer one got to it. It almost burned.

“The light here is weird, it is like the ice is reflecting it all wrong.” Wedge looked around with a scowl. “The shadows are off.”

Biggs stopped a bit away from the chunk ice. “So... this is the frozen esper?”  He tilted his head. “It is a good bit bigger than I expected. What’s the plan to get it out of here?”

Wedge shook his head.

“There is a plan. Right?”

“Maybe if we break off some of the ice? How is the ice not melting?”

“Uh… magic ice? I guess?” Biggs frowned. “But what do you mean there’s no plan?”

The girl moved closer to the frozen esper

Wedge shrugged. “It isn't so much that there isn't a plan, as we are expected to assess and use the Magitek Armors to move it… I think”

“You think!?”

“Well what else must the plan be!”

“So there wasn't one!”

Wedge glanced over to the girl. “Hey! Girl! Get away from there!” He shifted away from the esper. “This thing's giving me the creeps.”

The girl stared at the esper and did not move

“Yea, and now we have to figure out how to move it to the extraction point,” Biggs grumbled.

“It would be nice if we could call for back up, make them carry it.” Wedge grimaced.

The girl moved closer to the esper

“Girl! Get away from there!” Biggs yelled.

She did not move

“Something's not right...!”  Wedge shivered, moving his armor back just a bit more.

“Wait,” Biggs said slowly. “She can’t disobey with that thing on her… right?”

“She is not supposed to be able to...”

Light began to shine from the esper. The shadows dark where there shouldn’t have been shadows, the lights shifted to colors they should not have been. The light reached out to them stretching bending, shadows shifting. Air electrified.

Wedge jerked his armor back. “Wh-where's that light coming from!?” He was surrounded by a sudden light- “Uwaaagh!”

The light cleared.

He was no longer there.

Biggs jerked his head and armor towards where Wedge was just at. “Wh-what was that!?” He spun around, armor legs scrambling. “...Wedge? Wedge, where are you? H-hey! What's going on!?”  In a second flash of light, he too was gone.

The girl was alone

The girl stared at the esper

The girl was surrounded by light and shadows

The girl did nothing

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Soft and warm.

This was comfortable, and for a moment, the girl had no idea why such a thing seemed so strange.

The girl snapped her eyes open, and quickly pushed herself up to a sitting position. The room rolled in her vision, forcing her to immediately slam her eyes shut again, as she slumped sideways on what she was fairly sure was a bed. Gritting her teeth, she breathed carefully through the nausea till it softened enough to try to take another look at where she was.

Siting up slower, she glanced around at what seemed to be a dimly lit bedroom.

She had no idea where she was.

Quietly, an older man walked in. The girl held as still as she could as he walked over towards what may have been a desk against the far wall. Whatever he was doing, he did not seem to realize the girl was awake.

He didn’t seem at all familiar.

“Where...am I?” she asked softly.

He jumped, turning towards her as he placed a hand on his chest. “Whoa!” He moved back towards the door, and turned a switch making the lights brighten. “My, my! You are awake, And I only just removed the crown!”

“My head...hurts...” she said carefully, as she rubbed her eyes, trying to ease the spike in her head from the sudden light. Moving slowly, she pushed herself to the edge of the bed.

He moved forward several quick steps. “Easy, there! The headache is normal, you will likely be dizzy and nauseous for a bit too, so stay sitting.”

“What?... happened? Where... am I?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Who are you?”

“My name is Arvis, you are at my home in Narshe.” He walked back over to the desk picking up an item, “and this is a slave crown,”  he said with a frown as he moved closer to her and held it out for her to see.

It looked almost like a broken circlet. What was once intricately braided metal, left snapped and coming loose in multiple places. The stone meant to sit on the forehead, cracked straight down the middle.

The girl looked blankly at it.

She couldn’t remember ever seeing it.

She wanted it away from her.

Arvis sighed as he walked back to the desk setting it down. “It is a horrible device. The others had complete control over you while you were wearing it. It was robbing you of your thoughts, making it so you'd do whatever they told you,” he said, his voice carefully soft.

Robbed her of… thought? “Who was? I… I can't remember a thing…” She was sure she would be more alarmed if she just didn’t feel so… numb. “Who am I?”

He sighed sadly. “I am sorry, I don’t know who you are.” His smile looked forced. “Don't worry. It'll hopefully all come back to you… In time that is.”

She just looked at him blankly.

“I am sorry. There isn't much I, or anyone really, can do to help you remember.” He narrowed his eyes down at the crown. “You are not the first they have used such devices on,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “and you will likely, not be the last.”

She closed her eyes.

Maybe if she could just focus, she could remember something.

Who was she?

Her head hurt so bad, but she felt like the knowledge was right at the tips of her fingers. If she could reach just a bit further.

A feeling rose up in her, she could almost place it, but it swirled hazily not quite defined.

There was something, a feeling, a sound, a word…

A... name?

“My name is... Terra...” The name felt less recalled from memory, and more like it sparked from somewhere inside her. She had no idea where it came from. Still, it felt right.

“Impressive!” Arvis breathed out.

The girl, Terra, blinked open her eyes and looked up at him. “What?”

Arvis shook his head, a soft smile warming his features. “I've never even heard of anyone recovering so fast. You must be made of tougher stuff than most...” He trailed off for a moment before sighing. “How about I get you something hot to drink, and sweet to eat? It will help to settle you I am sure. Then we can chat more,” he said gently, as he turned and walked from the room.

She jumped a bit when Arvis so quickly came back carrying a tray.

“Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” He set down the tray and gently handed her a cup with a steaming liquid in it. “Snow Flower Tea, good for head and stomach. Plus it is quite delicious.”

Terra sipped on her tea, nibbled on the cookies, and tried her best to follow what he was saying. Tilting her head, she watched his large hand motions, listened to his odd changes of voice. It was all very dramatic.

It made her very confused.

“-so then the kid jumped! He jumped!” Arvis tossed one arm up as he shook his head.

Terra tilted her head the other way. She had no idea what he was talking about... the story lost her nearly at the start... but he sounded happy? That was good? Right?

Hand waving wide he continued, “Then of course everyone had to run to get the pipe.” He laughed.

His laugh felt warm, almost settling. The warmth was hopeful in a way which felt so unfamiliar. Like it was rare.

Her thoughts were confusing.

The story was confusing.

Everything was just so confusing.

A sudden loud banging made both of them startle.

Arvis hissed out a breath as he practically dropped his cup on the bedside table as he rushed out of the door.

She only hesitated a moment before following him with a bit of a stumble, and out into a larger part of the house. Firelight danced along the walls, pulling her attention to the fireplace warming the room in temperature and color.

Her attention snapped to the door as someone banged on it again.

“Open up! We're here for the Magitek armor pilot!” the voice behind what had to be the front door yelled, as they continued to bang.

Arvis cussed under his breath as he looked back at her.

“Open this door right now!” The voices from outside yelled over each other. “Hand over that girl!” She could barely make out one voice from the next. “She's an officer of the Empire!”

Terra shook her head trying to untangle the words running together in her head. “Empire...? Magitek armor...?” she repeated uncertainly. The words almost sounded familiar, but also distant, hazy… like every thing else.

Her chest ached.

Arvis motioned her frantically away from the door as he hissed quietly, “There's no time to explain! You need to get out of here! These fools aren't going to listen to reason.” He rushed her back deeper into the house. “This way! Quickly!”  He lead her to a small back room, where he stopped at a table and scooped up the items on top before shoving them into her arms. “You will have to make your way out of town through the mines!”  With a yank to the bookcase on the wall it swung open, revealing a hidden exit. “Go!”

Terra glanced out the door, to the softly falling snow, down at the things in her arms, and shook her head before looking back up at him. “But…” She looked back to where the voices screamed and banged. She decided she liked when he told her stories better than being told to go.

“Don't you worry about me,” Arvis said, as he reached out, and gently placed his warm hands on her shoulders. “Just run. I'll try to buy you some time!” Gently he pushed her out the door. “Run,” he murmured.

The girl turned, and ran.

Along the wooden walkways that crisscrossed above the city streets.

She ran.

Angry yelling echoed behind her, around her.

She ran.

Not knowing where she was, or where she was going.

Terra just ran.

---

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Promises to Keep

(Terra)

Loud scratching sounds echoed through the caves of Narshe. In the softly lit alcove, Terra pulled her knees closer to her chest and just tried to breathe. It was just sounds from monster claws as they wandered around on the stones. It wasn't soldiers, and none of the monsters were coming her way, they were only passing by.

She was okay.

Desperately trying to believe it as she worked to calm her gasping breath after her directionless run.

Terra had no idea where she was, worse she had no idea where to go.

Everything was so confusing. What did she do to cause so many people to be so upset? And if it was so bad then why did Arvis help her? Who even was she?

Terra wasn't sure of anything.

It ached.

With a sharp shake of her head, Terra forced herself to uncurl.

She needed to focus on what to do. Everything else could wait until she got to somewhere safe. Wherever such a place could even be.

The bag of things Arvis had shoved at her, sat flopped over where she had dropped it in her haste to hide. Leaning over, her hair partly falling into her face, she grabbed the shoulder strap and yanked it into her lap.

Lightly running her fingers over the sturdy material of the bag, Terra gave the sword still laying on the ground a long look. Hesitantly she reached out and pulled it into her hand.

Slowly unsheathing it, she pointed it away from her towards the darkness of the cave. The feel of the handle, the weight, the balance. It felt familiar in her hand.

The girl could almost remember the feel of it slicing through an enemy. Liquid flowing as it cooled on her hands.

Quickly Terra shoved the blade back into its cover and tossed it aside.

It landed with a clatter.

Turning her attention back to the pack, she untied the top and plucked out a small item. She ran her fingers over the soft leather of the belt pouch. The painted vines and flowers decorating it, although beautiful, were slightly faded from use. It seemed like a well loved item.

It also didn’t seem familiar at all.

Flipping open the top she found three healing potions and some cut cloth. Carefully she set the small potions bag aside.

The next few things she pulled out of the pack, a full water pouch, food, and large warm blanket didn’t look at all familiar either.

However, as she sat the blanket aside, the fabric below it caught her attention, and she stilled for a long moment. Slowly she reached in and pulled out the sheer white cape, letting it unfold in her hands.

The fabric was smooth and warm with lovely embroidery flowers along the bottom. With a shake of her head, she flipped it back behind her in an eerily practiced movement she couldn’t remember ever making, and secured the cape on her shoulders.

Terra felt warm.

At the very bottom of the pack was a little draw string pouch. Scooping it up, she turned it over in her hands, before opening it and pouring out the contents. Two dangling earrings of beautiful red stones tumbled out. When the necklace joined them, her breathing hitched to a stop.

Sucking in a breath, she turned the pendent back and forth letting the light flash through it, watching as it glimmered various colors.

This.

This, looked familiar.

With a sharp shake of her head she hooked the earrings into place and gently looped the necklace around her neck, before scooping everything else back into the pack.

Using the wall as a support, Terra pushed herself back to her feet.

Strands of her long green hair caught in the necklace chain making her pause. At some point her hair had partly fallen out of the ties keeping it up. With quick motions she untied it, ran her fingers through the strands, and tied it back up.

Terra then took a long moment to just stand, and breathe.

Running her hands over her face she paused, and blinked down at the dampness now on her hands. With a frown she tapped the tips of her boots on the stone ground in thought, then distracted, looked down at the red boots curiously.

Had she always had those on?

With a sharp exhale, Terra scooped up the pack, and after a moment more hesitation, she grabbed what had to be her sword, as well. Then turned to continue in the direction she thought was deeper into the mine and away from the city.

Hopefully towards somewhere to be.

---

(Arvis)

Firelight flickered softly around the kitchen as Arvis lit the stove, gently placing the kettle to heat. Turning to the pantry, he pulled out several of his favorite cookies.

If the world worked like he wished, helping the girl would not come back to bite them. He used up a lot of favors to get her to his home in the first place. Favors which didn’t end up helping him keep her there.

Arvis sighed out a fortifying breath, as he moved into the sitting area and placed down the tray of snacks on the small table. “Any requests?” he asked Dacket stiffly.

Dacket sighed. “Tea isn't going to help this,” his voice as calm and harsh as his posture.

“Nonsense. Tea helps every situation,” Arvis countered as he moved to prepare the tea pot. “I am thinking River Bloom would be good.” If the conversation was going to go how he expected, they were going to need the effect of calming nerves and promoting tranquility.

“Sure,” Dacket said dismissively as he slowly sat down with a heavy sigh and continued, “Arvis, this is serious. You are lucky I am here as a friend and not as a General.”

“What was I supposed to do? She needed help!”

“This whole thing is verging very close to treason!”

Arvis set down the pot a bit harder than he meant to on the table. “I couldn’t just not help her!” He closed his eyes and just breathed. Keeping calm was the best way to get his point across, lashing out because of pain would help no one.

“No, I suppose you couldn’t, could you.” Dacket said softly after a moment as he gently turned the tea pot on the table. “She got you this didn’t she?” He ran his finger over the little ears of the stylized moogle on the side.

He sighed, as he poured the hot water into the pot. “Yes, a gift for our wedding anniversary.” Sitting down heavily he ran his fingers over the handle of the pot. “Last one before…” he trailed off. Paloma had sworn to make sure no one else suffered from those damned crowns.

A promise she couldn't keep.

For the dead keep no promises.

Arvis pushed the pain back as he poured the tea in two cups and placed one in front of each of them.

“I understand your…” Dacket paused to take a sip before continuing, “your emotional reasons for it, but we have treaties to think about. The girl has to be returned to Vector.”

“They put that thing on her!” His cup shook slightly as he clenched in his hands. “And you want to just give her back!”

“This isn't about what anyone wants!” The general set his cup down with a clatter. “It is what is best for Narshe as a whole!”

“Pandering to the Empire that just attacked us? That is what is best?!” He shook his head. “People are dead! Our people are dead!” he yelled barely catching his voice before it broke.

“We don’t know what happened,” the general responded, overly measured. “Until we do we have to assume it wasn't an open attack by Vector, and keep the peace treaties intact.”

“That is a bunch of nonsense and you know it! She is-”

“Yes, I know Arvis!” Dacket cut him off standing abruptly. “It doesn’t change anything, this is politics!” he snapped. He hissed out a breath before quickly downing the rest of his tea like he wished it was something stronger. “Thank you for the tea. I will talk you out of trouble this time, but do not expect it to happen again.” He turned abruptly and strode through the house, barely breaking stride to grab his coat and toss it on, before yanking open the front door.

Arvis rushed after him. “She is little more than a kid,” he said softly, to the man’s back.

Dacket paused just outside the door. “They all are, Arvis. They all are.” his voice filled with soft pain as he shut the door firmly behind him.

---

(Locke)

Locke lightly tapped his fingers on his knee in a desperate attempt to keep them from freezing solid. He was getting bored of idly watching as the Narshe guards milled around Arvis’ place. It was a relief when a man finally walked out of the house and the guards turned and quickly went to him. Locke was fairly sure it was one of Narshe’s Generals who just exited. Dacket, probably.

Locke really hoped this meant it would be clear to head inside where there would be a fire. He closed and opened his hands.

A nice warm fire.

He rather hated the cold.

“Orders, sir?” one of the guards asked.

“Leave him. He is just an old, soft-hearted, fool,” the man still on the porch responded as he rubbed his hands down his face.

“Yes, Sir!” They all saluted before moving off deeper into the city.

They passed right under him.

They never even looked up.

Locke shook his head.

Careful to hold to the shadows, he slipped down along the side of the buildings, and circled around to the back of Arvis’ house.

The city was just attacked and they weren’t even alert enough to look up. There could be others hiding. Locke may not have seen any himself, but it didn’t mean there weren’t any. Shadow was one of the best in the business, and he was known to work with the Empire. The man was skilled enough, he could be here and Locke would never know.

Locke frowned and looked around before he finished picking the back lock, then looked again before he opened the door.

Great, he made himself paranoid.

Quickly, he slipped into the blissfully warm house and shut the bookcase door behind him, before heading into the main room to crouch by the fire.

He really wanted to feel his fingers again.

Locke had found fingers to be very useful over the years.

“Took you long enough!” Arvis complained as he walked in from the side room. “Ah, Locke. Been busy with all that robbing and plundering, I presume?” he drawled, far too judgmentally.

“I prefer the term ‘treasure hunting’!” Locke had no idea why no one ever got it right!

“Ha! Semantic nonsense!”

“There's a huge difference!” Locke huffed.

Arvis scoffed as he waved off the complaint, before glancing over towards the back entrance. “You better not have broken my lock.”

“No I didn’t break it, and I locked it again.” He thought he did anyway- wait did he? “Anyway! Is there something you need me to do?  You just kind of sent out a call without any info. You were lucky I was even in the area.”

Arvis frowned. “There is indeed… I met…” He hesitated then shook his head. “Did you see the damage to the city?”

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “They really did a number on the place. From what I heard on my way in, it was those Magitek armors. Nasty tech.”

“Yes. There were three, they went right through the heart of the city,” he said through gritted teeth. “The death toll was…” He shook his head as he hissed out a breath. “As far as anyone can tell, two of the three pilots were killed.”

Locke shifted uncertainly. “As far as anyone can tell?”

“Yes. The witnesses said when they got close to the Esper, there was a bright light and then…” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The armors were damaged, two Empire soldiers were just gone. The third pilot was… the girl.”

Locke blinked, a girl? No, the girl? “Who?”

“The one rumored to have done all of the fire damage to those Magitek armors a bit back.”

Locke took a step back in shock. “…!? wait!? You don't mean…? this is about that Magitek-riding, imperial…” he sputtered for the right word, “witch!?”  he finally settled on. Oh no he was not the one to deal with her if she was strong enough to handle so many of those armors alone! He was no slouch in a fight but…

If she truly could use magic…

Arvis nodded with a frown. “This city has the strength to stand up to the Empire, but I fear it won't use it! Even now!” he hissed, obviously frustrated.

“The Empire attacked! Surely that will be enough to get Narshe in on the fight?” Locke hesitated. “Right?”

“They are still concerned with keeping the treaties!” Arvis shook his head. “The people are just too stubbornly independent to join a resistance group like the Returners! They are convinced if we just stay out of it then it wont ever be our problem! They don’t seem to realize our independence can only be assured if we fight for it!” He rubbed his temples.

Locke had a bad feeling. If this did not sway them, there would be little else which would be able to do so in time.

“Then they will not let up on the girl!”

“Let up… on the girl?” Wait, what was going on? This seemed more like-

“The city guard is pursuing her as we speak! I tried to explain that the Empire was controlling the girl with one of those damnable crowns! That she needs to be helped, but they wouldn't even listen…”  He rubbed his face as his voice got very quiet, “They want to hand her back. Just give her back to the ones who…” he trailed off.

Locke was silent for a moment. He really didn’t like where this was going… “All right… So, you want me to get her safely out of Narshe?” he guessed.

Arvis closed his eyes as he slumped slightly. “That would be the idea… I don’t know what you can do from there,” he paused before continuing, “maybe make your way to Figaro for the time being…”

Locke shook his head. “Alright I will…” He tossed his hands up a bit, “figure it out.”

For an ex-military man Arvis was a surprisingly soft touch.

And unsurprisingly a bit of a pain.

---

(Terra)

Growls and the clatter of claws, made Terra turn sharply towards the overly large eyed, rat monsters who seemed everywhere in the mines. “Leave me alone,” she told them, and immediately felt silly for thinking, even for a moment, they might have listened.

With a jump and outstretched claws, the rat monster lunged at her.

Terra sidestepped while bringing her hand up in front of her. Fire burning from her fingers, she pushed the flame towards the monsters, making them yelp, and run off.

Shoulders relaxing, she swirled the flame around her fingers. She hadn't known she could make fire. Or probably more like, she couldn’t remember she could, the flame felt far too comfortable in her hand for this to be new.

Terra watched it a moment more before letting it flicker out.

As she wandered on her way, there were luckily not many monsters who tried their luck against her. Those who did, were quickly run off by tossing a bit of flame.

For the most part they seemed more inclined to gnaw on the wood support beams. Loud crunching noises made her frown as she slowly moved around yet another large rat monster chewing the wood to splinters. Surely those beams were important, it could not be good for the structural integrity of this area…

For some reason she was very certain someone would be extremely angry about this.

A noise from the direction she was headed, made her pause.

Something was not right. It could have been a monster, but something itched behind the headache.

Terra was sure, it wasn't a monster.

Pivoting on her foot she quickly rushed back the way she came.

“There she is!” a voice yelled from the direction Terra just turned from.

“She is running! Cut her off!” another said from a different direction.

Terra veered left and stumbled to a stop.

There was no where to go.

She had run into a dead end.

Turning Terra faced the group of weapons held by what had to be Narshe soldiers.

“Hold!” the one in charge ordered the rest, before looking her in the eye. “There is no where else to run.”

Terra shifted.

She could pull her sword, but the thought made her uneasy.

She could use fire.

The thought made her flinch, stomach rolling breath stopped, the vague memory of the thick smoke flashed across her mind.

The leader tilted his head, hand on the hilt of his undrawn weapon. “This doesn’t have to dissolve into a fight.”

A lie the girl was sure. Stumbled quick steps moved her further away from the group, her back slamming in to the cave wall. It always ended in a fight.

The leader’s expression hardened. “A fight now wouldn't be advantageous to anyone. Surrender. Things will-”

Terra couldn’t surrender, she couldn’t.

The world swayed.

Something shifted under her feet.

In a moment of confusion, loud noise and screams, the rock crumbled beneath her feet.

She fell into the darkness.

Gasping pain laced up her side as she landed on unyielding stone.

Rolling over, Terra clawed at the fallen rocks, as she tried to push herself up and get her legs under her.

She needed to run.

While she had a moment away from them, she needed to run.

Desperately glancing around the fallen rocks, she tried to make something out about where she fell. Seeing through the darkness was difficult enough, yet it was the spinning in her head which caused the most trouble.

Her head hurt.

The stone was so cold under her fingers.

She breathed out leaning forward.

She was so cold under the stone.

Her head spun.

For a moment, a picture of a city of iron crossed her thoughts. She instinctively reached for it- “My sweet little magic user…”  the voice in her memory crooned. Part of her wanted to jerk away, mostly she wanted, needed, to know anything about her past. “Uwee-hee-hee!” a laugh. It was cold, nothing like Arvis’. The ghost of a feeling of freezing restraints around her. “With this slave crown, you'll be all mine!” Vague feelings of desperate anger and confusion, hurt, betrayal- before it all slipped into nothingness.

Terra shook her head, staring wide eyed at the splash of water on the stones by her hands.

As the impression began to fade, she desperately tried to grab it.

It slipped away and with it, the last of her awareness.

“Kupo?”

---

(Mog)

The loud crashing noise echoed around the Moogle’s Den, causing paws to stay clamped over ears even as the sound faded out. Mog glanced around checking on everyone he could see, as his wings twitched in agitation. It was probably the humans and their nonsense, digging too close to the den again. If they were encroaching on moogle territory, he would make sure they regretted it.

He was not yet sure how, nothing they had done so far had really worked for long. Human hardheadedness was the bane of far too many of his days.

Ears twitching as they laid back on his head, he fluttered his way over towards the denway meeting up with several others.

Molulu waved him over with a paw, her ears twitching, pompom poofed obviously worried. “Kupo!” she pointed into the darker out cave.

Mog only hesitated a moment before he landed and carefully peeked out. “Kupo!” There was a whole pile of rocks he was sure were not there yesterday, but more importantly there was a person laying amongst them. He shifted, flicking his pompom topped antenna out of the denway. Whoever they were they were hurt! He glanced at the others and tossed up both paws then pointed to the person “Ku Kupo?!” What happened?

Mogsy pointed a paw up, “Kupo!” then slammed his paw down into his other, up turned paw before pointing at the person, “Kupopo…”

Mog squeaked, they fell! Humans didn't have wings! When they fell, they fell hard! Annoying humans and their ridiculous digging! He glanced around, as he lifted up a paw and hit himself lightly on the chest, “Kupo,” he pointed to the person. He swirled his paw around to the others, “Kukupo?” he tilted his head. If they wanted to go with him or not, he was still going to go check on the one who fell.

The group quickly looked at each other and split into two groups. Some fluttered closer to help and some moved further away to stay in the Den. He couldn’t blame them, humans always meant trouble.

Mog turned towards the darkened out cave and started to carefully flutter his way through the newly fallen rocks. Hopefully the person was not too badly hurt. When the area suddenly lit up from behind him, he turned to find Molulu holding a torch. “Ku po,” he thanked her. It was good thinking, Molulu was the best.

She fluffed up with a soft smile and booped him with her pompom.

Carefully he landed beside the person while tilting his pompom closer to check their injuries better. They seemed to be breathing okay, there wasn't much blood, and he didn’t think anything was in the wrong place or bent in an odd way. They seemed to be mostly alright, but being unconscious after a fall was always a bad sign.

Mog frowned. There was something odd about them? He couldn’t place it. He shook his head, it wasn't important at the moment, what was important was making sure they would be okay.

Plus, what did he know about non moogles?

Mog motioned to the loose rocks scattered around, making a scooping motion with his paw, “Kupo! Kupo!” he ordered. The rocks were in the way, they really needed them cleared.

“Kupo!” the others agreed as they carefully began moving the rocks.

“Kupo?…” Molane called as they fluttered near the denway.

Mog looked over and nodded, and motioned them over. It was safe enough, and the elder moogle checking on the person themselves would be more accurate.

Molane carefully approached, landing a bit unsteadily on the shifting rocks. Their red wings twitched, catching their balance. They leaned forward, their red pompom tilting out to get a good read. After a moment, they smiled, ears lifting to a relaxed position. “Kupo,” they said decisively. Lifting one of their paws to set on the injured one’s head and one over their chest, they closed their eyes, focusing. Soft light surrounded them, swirling like snow in the wind, and when it cleared the figure seemed to be much better.

Mog’s pompom poofed and relaxed in relief. He settled close to the one who fell. Humans didn’t have any fluff to keep them warm like moogles. This one didn't even have the fluffy removable fur the humans use. Some of the others obviously realized the same thing and settled down around them also. The moogles would keep the person who fell warm till someone came to get them, or they woke up on their own.

It would not do to have someone hurt further when there were those who could help.

---

(Locke)

Locke slipped through the dark of the city and into the mines with sure footed ease. It was a simple matter to track the… girl. Her path made it painfully obvious she had no idea where she was going. Considering she had one of those things on her, she probably couldn’t even remember where she had already been.

He sighed as he kicked the snow she had clearly tracked into the cave system.

Made her easy for him to follow.

For anyone to follow.

Realistically Locke was impressed she was able to run at all after being scrambled by one of those damn crowns. Though he would really rather not have to deal with an unpredictable… magic user… but… he had been asked to get the witch out of town.

He gave his word.

Whatever his word was even worth nowadays.

Locke frowned as her tracks were over taken by signs of a large group. They had likely found her then. Still, he sped up just in case.

As he moved around a large rock he jerked to a stop at what was obviously the site of a cave collapse. He whistled quietly, “Wow what happened here?” He glanced around at the tracks, to the splintered cave supports, then back to the damage. “Was this you, little witch?” It didn’t look like fire damage, but then again, he knew nothing about magic.

Locke carefully picked his footing as he made his way closer to where the ground had given way. Crawling the last of the distance he peered down into the dark below. He stilled, he could just make out something red. Yanking the small light maker out of his pocket, he flipped it on and shown the beam down into the dark.

He blew out a breath. Her dress was red, it wasn't blood.

Well that was a relief. “Thank you, Edgar, for the ridiculous but useful things you keep in your pockets.” He flipped off the light and slipped it back into his bag.

There were two choices; jump down, or try to find a path leading to the area below.

Locke didn't know how bad the little witch was hurt or how long it would be before the Narshe guards found her, but jumping could destabilize the cave enough for both of them to end up buried in rocks.

Speed or safety?

“Ah, screw it.” He jumped.

His Cherub Down relic activated part way down, turning his fall into more of a float. Feet barely landed with a soft tap, before he immediately rushed to her side and crouched down. “Hey, girl, you awake?”

No response.

Locke scooted closer and slowly reached out and patted her shoulder. “Hey, come on now, can’t give you a potion if you are asleep…” He slowly shifted his hand to the side of her neck, then blew out a breath when her pulse seemed fine. Wrapping his hand around hers he found, to his relief, her fingers were warmer than he expected. She had fared much better from the fall than he would have anticipated.

He stood up, and stepped back.

What was he supposed to do? Locke wasn't expecting to have to deal with her being passed out. This was going to be a problem.

It was strange. This was the witch all the frankly terrifying rumors were about and yet, she just looked like some girl.

The sight of her being knocked out on the ground was making him feel…

It was so much like…

Locke shook his head sharply. It was not the time to be thinking about…

Damn it, Arvis.

Locke hissed out a breath as he shrugged off his pack and pulled out his blanket. “Alright, I am going to have to carry you out of here. So don’t go waking up and frying me ok?”

She just kept breathing evenly.

Locke nodded. “Ok.” He was going to have to go with it, not like there was much other choice.

“This is the right place I am sure of it! Now we've got her!”  a voice echoed from down one of the cave passages.

Locke jerked his head to the side looking to the direction of the voice. “Oh come on!” he groaned as he tossed the blanket over the girl before leaving her, and rushing to see who had yelled.

Luckily it was further than he feared before he saw the white of the Narshe guard uniforms standing out starkly in the dark of the cave. Not as good, he could just make out the shadows of the trained monsters as they shifted at their handler’s sides. The monster’s claws clacked loud against the stone. Locke let out a silent sigh through gritted teeth. “Wonderful… There's a whole bunch of 'em…”

“Somewhere around this area is were she must have fallen,” the leader said. “We have reports of her being very dangerous, so send the monsters out to scout ahead. She can’t be far.”

Quickly, Locke turned and made his way back to where the girl was. The Narshe force was being plenty loud enough to cover his movements. It was painfully obvious Narshe never gave their people any proper stealth training. Lucky for him, he supposed. He swiftly returned to her side. “Gonna have to run for it.” he told the sleeping girl.

“Kupo…”

Locke jerked his head up, the fluffy white face of a moogle was peeking around a rock, watching him. Their pompom tipped forward out towards him, just as more moogles peeked out to look too. He huffed out a laugh. “Moogles…”  He smiled apologetically. “Ah, sorry, is this your territory?”

The moogles nodded, their pompoms bobbing.

Locke jerked his head to glance back where the Narshe guards were as the sounds of claws on stone got louder. “Alright, sorry, we will try to be out as soon as possible,” he said in a rush as he quickly scooped up her things and wrapped them and her up in the blanket. “The guards sent monsters this way, so be careful,” he said before looking up to see a good number of moogles had flown out and landed nearby. All of them were holding weapons.

The one in front held up his spear, tip point up, before moving it forward towards Locke, keeping the tip up, then back to himself before then pointing the tip down the tunnel.

All the moogles held up their weapons as they cheered, “Kupo!”

Locke was confused. “Sorry? We are… leaving,” he said uncertainly.

The moogle with the spear looked at him for a long moment, puffed up his fluffy cheeks, and then very slowly pointed the spear back at the ceiling, moved it forward towards Locke, keeping the point up. “Ku.” He moved the spear back towards himself. “Po.” Then pointed the tip of the spear in the direction of the approaching guards and said flatly, “Ku. Po.”

Locke had the sudden feeling like he was just insulted. He had no idea what the moogle could possibly have been- wait… He looked at the spear, the direction it was pointed, and his jaw dropped. “Are you saying you want to help!?”

All the moogles perked up as they held up their weapons again and cheered, “Kupo!”

Moogles were not known for concerning themselves with the affairs of humans, but at this point, Locke was not going to question it. He quickly settled the girl back on the ground making sure the blanket would keep her warm.

“grrrrrrrr”

Locke spun and faced the growling monster.

He was fairly sure the large almost dog like monster was a Lobo. Narshe couldn't just have trained dogs, no, they trained Lobo. He pulled his knife, as the moogles flew forward and took up positions beside him.

Locke hissed out a breath as a large number of lobo rounded the corner. He could only hope the moogles knew how to use those weapons.

As the first monster jumped at him, he ducked down and slashed with his knife while the spear moogle jabbed, knocking it back. The moogle with the flail rushed forward, striking the Lobo on the flank, making it yelp and quickly drop back.

Alright, they knew how to fight!

Narshe monsters were, luckily for them, trained to fall back to their handlers when hurt. Between him and the moogles they were able to trip the monsters up enough to push them to retreat.

The moogles quickly followed after the monsters on their way back through the cave. Locke kept himself hidden behind them as they flew into the area where the Guards were still just standing around.

“Moogles?! What are you doing here!” one of the guards yelled as most of the group took a surprised step back.

The moogle with the spear pointed it at them and waved it around, “Kupo! Kukuku!!! PO!!! KUPO!”

The other moogles pointed their weapons at the monsters and yelled angrily, “Kupo!”

One of the humans held their hands up, they leaned over to the person next to them and muttered, “Uh, captain, I think they are pissed.”

The captain sighed. “Yes. Thank you for your report lieutenant,” she responded dryly.

The lieutenant nodded and whispered, “Always glad to help,” as they leaned away again.

“Does anyone know where moogle territory starts around here?” the captain hissed, almost quiet enough not to travel. Her question was met with shrugs and shaken heads.

“Kupo!” all the moogles yelled.

Locke agreed, how could they not know.

The captain straightened her shoulders, “Ah, yes, we are sorry for disturbing you, but we are looking for-”

“Kupo!” they all yelled as they pointed their weapons at the exit.

She shifted. “Yes, but it is imperative that we take in to custody-”

“KU!” they jabbed their weapons in the guards direction, “PO!” they pointed to the exit, “Kupo!!”

The captain sighed. “Ok, right. We are going. Sorry again for the inconvenience,” she said through gritted teeth as she motioned to the rest of the troops to leave. They disappeared back into the mine they must have came from.

Foot steps faded.

Some of the moogles started giggling, others were making what were probably rude gestures at the guards’ backs.

Locke shook his head. What a mess for Narshe. He watched the moogle’s fluffy paws as they motioned to each other on the way back. It looked like they were making fun of the guards.

Once they got back to where they started, the moogles motioned with their paws as if to say he should follow them.

Locke carefully lifted the blanket wrapped girl, then after a small pause, followed.

He hadn't ever really interacted with moogles before, mostly just seen them a time or two from a distance. Everything he had heard was… looking to be wrong.

Well maybe not about their dislike for humans, but they obviously had language. Just because they didn't seem to speak human didn’t mean they didn’t talk. Their language was obviously made up of mostly paw motions and body language.

The moogle in front stopped, flying side to side as they pointed at an awkward opening in the rock wall. It looked plenty big enough for him to get through, even though it would be a bit tight while carrying the girl.

“Thanks, moogles!” He bowed as best as he could considering he was carrying someone. “We're in your debt!”

The moogles chirped out a chorus of happy sounding kupos before waving and flying off.

Moogles were odd little dudes.

Locke still had no idea why they had bothered to help.

He would probably never know.

Carefully, he ducked through the opening, making sure to keep from knocking the girl into anything. It took him a bit to figure out where they were, but once he found his bearings he moved as fast as he could while keeping to the dark, less traveled areas.

Stealth, he quickly found, was vastly more difficult while carrying an unconscious girl.

Still, they ran into no problems getting to the secret passage.

“This switch oughta…” he muttered to himself as he juggled his charge to get a hand free enough to open the latch. He glanced behind him as he strained his ears for any sign of an alerted guard, before slipping through the opening and closing it behind them.

Hopefully they were in the clear now.

Locke looked down at the girl sharply as she made a soft noise and shifted in his arms.

He could easily be called a fool, he would even agree in many cases, but he definitely had enough of a self preservation instinct to set the fire witch down, before she woke up to a strange man manhandling her.

He gently set her next to the wall and then backed up.

After reevaluating, he backed up a bit more.

She shifted for a moment, eyes blinking, before she shakily pushed herself up to her knees. Hands running over the blanket, she frowned as she shook her head. “Where? I fell?” she murmured to herself.

He shifted “Eh?”

She jerked her head to look in his direction, eyes narrowed.

“You back with us now?” He smiled a bit stiffly.

She looked around. “You… saved me?”

He shrugged. “Eh, save your thanks for the moogles!  Without them I don’t think I would have been able to get you this far.”

“Ugh… whats a moogles?” She rubbed her eyes. “It sounds almost familiar but… like everything else… I can't remember a thing… It's like my mind's trapped in a fog…”

Locke jerked. “You have amnesia?!” Did she hit her head? Was it because of the fall?!

She nodded with a small, confused frown. “A… man? Arvis? said it would come back…eventually…”

Locke wanted to slap himself in the forehead, it was not the fall. It was one of the main side effects of the crown… he knew that, dang it. “Give it time…” This whole thing was stirring up… memories. He sighed, suddenly just so tired.

She almost seemed to crumple in on herself. “Time…” she whispered. “What am I supposed to do till then…”

Locke slowly held out his hand to help her up. “Well for now lets get out of Narshe.” When she did not take his hand right away he added softly, “You're safe with me! I give you my word!”

Still, she looked at his hand a long moment before taking it and letting him pull her up to her feet.

As he led the way out, she was silent.

Locke couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. She looked so small, so lost. It would be ridiculously easy to take advantage of her in a million different ways. Every way he could think of was worse than the last.

He couldn’t get the image of her crumpled on the ground out of his head.

Slowing down to match her stride, he moved to walk next to her. “Hey, don't worry!” Even as he said it, Locke knew she should be worried.

She should be extremely worried.

Still, he grinned at her. “It will be ok, I won't leave your side until your memory returns!”

She looked up at him. “You…?” She tilted her head.

“I'm not gonna up and abandon someone just because they lost their memory!” The words burned. “I'll keep you safe! I promise!”

---

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Rule Of Kingdoms

(Terra)

Terra tilted her head, watching the fluffy little rodent monster as it pawed the sand. The little cutie swooshed his tail, and looked up at her with big, dark eyes. With a squeaking chitter, he skittered off through the sand to duck into the shade of a rock.

She huffed out a laugh, and took a few quick steps to catch up with Locke.

They had been walking for a while. Around them was mostly empty sand, broken up by the occasional rock, or prickly plant. Over the last… however long it was, they had moved suddenly from mostly ice and snow to sand and lots of heat.

A strange shape had started taking form in the direction they were headed, still too far away to look like anything more than a slightly off color blot in the distance. It would have almost looked like rocks, if it didn’t have the vague glint of metal. Whatever it was seemed to be where they were headed, but what it could possibly be in the middle of all this nothing, she had no idea.

“What is that?” Terra eventually asked while squinting into the distance.

Locke jumped, then spun around to face her while walking backwards. “Oh! That is Figaro Castle, ‘The Jewel of the Desert’, or whatever pompous thing they are calling it now.” He slowed down to walk next to her with a grin. “Don’t worry, we will be there soon! Long before the hot part of the day!”

She blinked. “This… isn't the hot part?”

“Not even close, unfortunately,” he said, laughing. “Deserts cook at noon.”

“… What?”

“Ah, never mind,” he said awkwardly. “Point is, we should be inside before then.” With small skip, he turned back towards the way they were going.

“Why build a castle in the middle of a desert?”

“Why?” Locke gave her an amused glance over his shoulder. “You know what, I couldn’t possibly say!” he declared grandly. “You’ll have to ask Edgar!”

The name almost sounded familiar.

Terra couldn’t place it.

She resolved to ask about building a castle in a desert when she met this Edgar person. Her mind might be little more than shifting vapor at the moment, but she was rather sure settlements needed water, and solid ground to build on. Not this endless dry shifting sand.

As they got closer, the castle’s towering form of stone and metal came increasingly into focus. The walls almost seemed to be a controlled patch work of both materials, overlaid and built together to form a rather surprisingly cohesive look.

Soon they were passing soldiers, riding on the backs of large yellow birds she couldn’t remember the name of, some who paused in their patrols to wave at them as they approached the front entrance.

“Halt!” a voice called out from the top of the sand covered steps. “Identify yourself and state your business here.”

Locke didn’t slow down, just hopped on up towards the front gate, uncaring of the order.

“Hey!” the guard said sharply then paused and huffed out a breath. “...Oh, it's you.” He barely even gave her a glance as he stepped aside. “Proceed,” he said blandly, waving her through as he just leaned against the wall next to the gate.

Terra blinked at the guard as she slowly made her way up the steps and into the castle, he just smiled at her as she walked passed.

“See, don’t worry! They know me here!” Locke said offhandedly, tossing a grin over his shoulder.

Terra rather felt like it just raised more questions, but then again everything raised questions.

Eventually, it would be nice to have some answers too.

Not knowing what else to do, she just nodded, and followed along behind him, and into the castle.

They entered a large empty room, but they were passed it and on to the next odd room so quickly she barely got to glance at it. Then, just as fast, they were out into an open air courtyard.

Terra frowned at the number of soldiers who were leaning against walls while they chatted, voices calm and unhurried. One looked over and waved.

Terra unsurely waved back, then shook her head, and took a few quick strides to catch back up with Locke.

As they walked, she ran her hand along the walls. The stone and metal were pleasantly sun warm, and softly vibrating, as if humming a melody against her fingers.

She blinked, and they were entering through two towering doors of carved wood and inlaid iron. Light streamed in through the high windows, making the room appear to glow. The many tapestries covering the walls were still brightly colored, even though they were obviously old and time worn.

Following quickly behind Locke, as they passed intricately carved pillars and walked along the deep red and gold carpet which ran all the way across the room and up a small set of stairs. On the raised platform was a man lounging, leg tossed idly over an armrest of one of the two large chairs.

It was with a start she realized they were in what had to be Figaro’s throne room, standing before what had to be Figaro’s King.

With a sigh, the man, who had to be the King, rolled his head a bit to look at them and immediately broke into a blinding smile. “Well then!” he said as he flipped his braided hair back behind him. “Wasn't expecting you back so soon!” Standing up with a bit of a flourish, he casually picked up the spear leaning against the throne. The jeweled clips adorning his golden hair sparkled as he hopped down the stairs to meet them. “So, is this a good or bad development?” he said easily, glancing back at her.

This was all wrong. Terra did not know how or why, but it was… wrong…?

Her head hurt.

The King tilted his head with a sharp look. “You mean, this young woman is...?”  With two quick steps, he stood in front of her. Meeting her eyes for a moment, he sighed and turned back around to Locke.

“Who are you?” she asked softly.

The King started slightly. “Oh!”  He spun back around to face her. “My apologies!”  He dipped his head slightly before continuing, “How rude of me to turn my back to a lady on our very first meeting!”

She blinked. What did that have to do with anything?

“Ah.” His shoulders relaxed slightly. “I am Edgar, the king of Figaro,” he finished softly.

She looked at him for a long moment. “Oh.” Was she supposed to do something when she met a king? Weren’t there rules?

Terra couldn’t remember.

Locke laughed. “Heh... Surprised that someone like me knows a king?”

“Like you?” she said confused, shaking her head. “At the moment, I don’t know what to make of anything.”

Locke nodded with a gentle frown. “Yea… it should get better with time…” He leaned over to catch her eye. “Hey. You will be safe here, you can trust Edgar ok?” he said softly, before straightening up. “But I have an errand to run! So… Well, I'll catch you two later! Bye!” he said in a rush as he dashed off.

“Locke!” King Edgar snapped, then huffed out an annoyed breath when Locke just ran faster out the door. “Locke is so…” He shook his head and turned to her with a smile. “So, you're an Imperial soldier, right? Don't worry. Figaro and the Empire are allies. Feel free to rest here for as long as you'd like and explore my castle.” He motioned wide with his hand before setting it over his heart. “It's not in my blood to harm a lady!”  When she didn’t respond for a moment he nodded and headed out of the room.

Terra shifted from foot to foot as she glanced around the throne room.

What was she supposed to do now?

---

(Edgar)

The moment Edgar rounded the corner, and out of sight from the throne room, he motioned to Commander Shel as he broke into a run. The woman quickly fell into step with him. “Let our guest wander,” he commanded as he dodged around people coming from the other direction.

They jumped out of his way with an, “Oh! Hello Sire!” as he ran by.

Edgar waved to them offhandedly as he rounded the corner and into the stairway. “Anywhere that is open to the public is fine, but keep a close eye on her!” he continued as he vaulted over the railing.

“She worries you that much?” Shel said from right behind him.

“Yes, she is potentially an extreme danger.” Edgar glanced back at her as he slowed down. “So keep everyone safely out of sight.” He yanked open the door and stopped, looking out at the sand for a moment. “Make sure everyone knows to be careful, but.” His voice softened as he continued, “The girl, Terra, she… They used one of those blasted control crowns on her.”

Shel sucked in a breath. “I will let everyone know to be careful with her. In both ways.”

“Good, now I have an annoyance to catch,” he grumbled.

She laughed and bowed before both of them ran in opposite directions.

Edgar bolted through the sand towards the stable, mostly ignoring several of his chocobo riding guards who stopped their patrol to watch him run by. He barely held back a sigh when one laughed. At least Edgar knew he was going in the right direction.

Slowing down as he entered the stable, he frowned at the empty pin where his personal chocobo should have been. Locke had taken Albert.

Again.

The young stable hand motioned, catching Edgar’s attention. “The guy went that way with her sire,” the kid said, before he went right back to sweeping and giggling over his broom.

“Ah, thank you,” Edgar said quickly as he rushed out to the back area. He got there just as Locke was about to hop up on the bird’s back. “Locke!” he yelled.

Locke stopped and turned with an obviously fake surprised look. “Oh! Edgar! Fancy meeting you here!” His grin as unrepentant as always.

“Must you always steal my bird!” he complained.

Locke tilled his head with a humm. “Yes,” he said decisively.

Edgar sighed as he pet the large bird between the eyes and down the beak. “You are lucky the birds like you. Many people have found out in the worst way how debilitating chocobo talons are.” He gave Locke an annoyed look. “Especially my gold’s.”

Those Albert did not like were given deep scars.

Locke grinned as he settled his hands on both the gold chocobo’s cheeks, scratching gently and making kissy noises at her. “Beautiful would never do such a thing to me! Would you! No! No you wouldn't! Who is the best bird hmm?”

Albert danced back and forth on her feet, while keeping her head in the same place for scritches. “Kweh! Kweh?” she chirped.

Edgar was not going to laugh. He was not. He was mad at Locke for running off like the nuisance he was.

No matter how ridiculously cute he was being.

Edgar lamented yet again Locke not being into men.

“Yea that is right! It is you isn’t it Beautiful! Yes it is!” Locke said in an over enthusiastic voice with a large smile.

“Kweh!” she chirped even happier bumping her beak affectionately against his chest as her tail feathers swooshed and wings flapped. Her golden feathers glimmered in the sun as brightly as Locke’s grin.

Albert completely adored Locke, even though he refused to call her by name.

Edgar was almost worried she would just follow Locke off one day.

“If you are quite done, could you explain the situation,” Edgar said, keeping as much of his amusement out of his voice as he possibly could.

“I told you.”

Edgar pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have a few more questions.” He swore Locke didn't understand what a full report was. “Did you see any evidence of magic from her? How is her mental state? What timeline are we working with?” he listed. After years of this, he was seriously starting to wonder if Locke did it mostly to annoy him.

Locke shook his head. “I didn’t see her use any magic? Though I may not know it, if I saw it. Other than the standard memory and zoning out issues she seems to be running numb.” He sighed, picking a bit at his finger less gloves. “Probably best that way considering the magic. As for the attack, it was around two days ago, I presume Arvis took the crown off about then.”

“Wait! It came off that recently!?”

“Yea! Shocked Arvis too.”

They were quiet for a long moment.

“It didn’t look like even a direct attack will be enough to get Narshe into the fight,” Locke said to his hands as he twisted the reins.

Edgar hissed out a breath. “Their insistence on neutrality is going to get them killed.”

“This, from a ‘close ally of the Empire.’”

Edgar sniffed arrogantly as he joked, “Well I did say neutrality.” He sighed heavily, letting the joviality drop away. “The treaty with Vector has been a farce I will be very glad to be rid of.”

“Yea, yea, I know,” Locke said softly.

“Full on war is encroaching. Vector controls their continent, I haven't heard anything directly from the countries there in far too long. Jidoor, and Nikeah only care about money, thus are convinced it has nothing to do with them, and Narshe apparently still thinks clinging to their neutrality will save them.” Edgar rubbed his face with his hands, wishing he could rub off the weariness so easily. “I have already pulled as much military support from Figaro, South Figaro, and Kohlingen as I can possibly feel comfortable with unless we go full draft, and it may end up there anyway once war breaks out.”

Edgar shook his head sharply before continuing, “With only Figaro and Doma in this I am... concerned about the outcome.” With a sigh, he looked back at Locke. “Speaking of Doma, I need you to ask Banon when he last spoke to them. I was expecting a messenger bird last week. If they have decided to stand against the Empire openly, without telling me, I would like to know before having to play catch up.”

Locke nodded as he raised his eyebrows. “Anything else, or can I finish stealing the best bird in your stable?”

Edgar gave him a flat look. “You better take care of my bird, you rapscallion.”

Locke climbed up on the bird. “I feel like I would be insulted if I knew what in the world you said.”

“It means thief.”

“I’m…” Locke huffed, offended, “a treasure hunter.”

“If you say so, person stealing my bird,” Edgar said with an amused smirk.

Locke’s scowl shifted to a pout “… shut up.”

Edgar laughed.

---

(Terra)

Left alone, and with little idea what else to do, Terra chose to explore the castle. Long hallways draped in time faded tapestries. Alcoves displaying old armor, and weapons turned decoration. Stairways adorned with carvings.

The whole castle steeped in history and life.

Raising her hand, she traced lightly over the carvings of vines. Her fingers gently followed the grooves as both them and she made their way up. They were smooth, like they were long worn from hands having done the same over so, so many years.

She paused at the top for a moment to look down at the carvings. At the echos of so many who had been there long before her.

History cut into the very stone of the castle.

Memories.

Terra turned sharply to the door and shoved it open. Dry, hot, sand filled air, hit her in the face immediately. With a slight frown she stepped out into the open area on top of the castle.

The wind blew hot, and not particularly refreshing over the low walls surrounding the space. Paired with the sun beating down, it was a great deal warmer out than it had been not so long ago. Leaning over, she placed her hands on the sun heated stone wall and looked out over Castle Figaro.

The castle seemed to be made of the large center portion she was standing on top of, and two towers set away from the core, only connected to the main part by large walkways set high above the ground.

It all still seemed to be built on dry, shifting sand.

The place frustrated her in the way all things had in the short amount of time she solidly remembered. Locke had said to ask ‘Edgar’ about why they built here, but could he have really meant King Edgar? Asking such a thing of a king seemed like it would be a breach of… something, and cause nothing but trouble.

Terra had so many questions, with so few answers.

Everyone was saying she was with the Empire, yet, weren’t they the ones to put that crown thing on her? The ones who took her memory, her very will, away, if Arvis was to be believed. From what she vaguely remembered of it, it didn’t seem to be Narshe or Figaro at least.

What she really needed was more information to go off of.

Terra sighed as she turned away from the view and headed back into the castle. Looking around she tried to figure out what direction would lead her out to the sand. Finding a staircase which seemed promising she headed down.

As she opened the door on the ground level, her attention was immediately diverted to three kids who were yelling as they swatted and shoved at each other. Feet skidding along the sand covered steps, they all but fell through the door into the off set tower.

Curious, she followed after them.

As soon as she entered, yet another group of shouting kids brushed right by her. They offhandedly yelled, ‘Sorry,’ behind them as they kept running.

The indistinct rumble of over lapping voices drifted towards her from the hall the kids had run down. By the sound of it, whatever area was that way was completely filled with people. Deciding it was far too loud, she turned on her heel and wandered the other way.

Rounding from one hallway to the next she paused at a large archway. Along the top and sides of the arch were more of the intricate carvings, these seeming to be more fire like than vines. Beautiful fabric draped from the top, obviously meant to be a substitute for a solid door, yet the fabric was slightly pulled apart, so there was enough space for a person to pass between.

Terra shifted her weight from one foot to the other, before pushing aside some of the fabric and ducking through. As she entered into the large room beyond, the gentle scent of smoke drifted up from the lowered area where a smoldering fire sat. In a spiral from the low point, up to the level she stood on, was a wide variety of seating surrounding the fire pit. Colorful drapes, tapestry, and carvings decorated the walls, reaching up to the high domed ceiling arching high over Terra’s head.

With the soft rustle of fabric, an elderly woman ducked out from another doorway near the back of the room. “Oh!” the woman gasped, carefully steadying a tray in her hands. “Hello, dear,” she said warmly.

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Terra said, glancing back at the entrance.

With a soft smile the woman shook her head and reassured, “Oh, none of that, my dear, this is a place for any and all who have need of it. I am the High Priestess. Come and sit with me, if you would like, and tell me what brought you here.” Setting the tray down on a small table in an alcove, she said a gentle, “Sit,” as she motioned to a chair across from the one she rested herself carefully into.

“I don’t really…” Terra trailed off as she slowly approached the table. “I am mostly just looking around, and ended up here,” she admitted, as she slowly sat in the surprisingly comfortable chair.

“Humm.” The High Priestess nodded as she took the top of the tray off revealing a steaming pot and a few cups. “Perhaps joining me for some tea then?”

Terra blinked. “If I am not intruding.”

“Nonsense!” she said happily as she poured two cups. “Tea by one’s self has its own kind of charm, but company is always my favorite way.”

Terra took a careful sip, blinking at the odd spicy flavor as it curled around her tongue.

“If it is not to your taste, don’t feel like you must finish it dear.”

“The flavor is strange, but I think I like it…?”

“It is always good to stretch one’s experiences.” The High Priestess took a measured sip before continuing, “Especially when so many past ones have been locked away from you.”

“You know, about…” Terra looked at the almost purple tea for a long moment.

“Yes, I do. King Edgar made sure to let me know of your, circumstances.” She leaned forward trying to catch Terra’s eye. “People have a tendency to end up here when they need it, even if they are just wandering.” Folding her hands under her chin as she implored, “So tell me, my dear, how can I help.”

Terra frowned in thought as she sipped her tea. “Could you tell me about Figaro?” she eventually settled on asking.

“Oh, bit of a broad topic,” she said amused. “Well, where you are now is Figaro Castle however most people call it just Figaro. To the south is the port city South Figaro, they do most of the import and export. To the north is Kohlingen, it is mostly farm land, and has only joined the Sovereign Nation of Figaro recently.”

Terra blinked. “Sovereign Nation of Figaro?” she asked slowly.

“That is the official name.” The elderly woman frowned and shook her head. “King Edgar does his best to be a good king. I do, however, wonder about some of his choices.”

“Choices?”

The woman paused a moment before she laughed slightly. “He could do a bit less flirting.” Smiling into her tea cup, she took a sip. “He has an eye for the beauty of the world! In... well… in all its forms.”

Terra blinked. “… What?”

“Well, beautiful clothing, jewelry, land, machines, and of course… people.” With a warm laugh and soft tutting, she continued, “But he is young yet, only 27! Traditionally the royal line doesn’t even take the throne till after 30, but… well after his father passed…” her voice and mirth trailed off. “He was far too young.”

“Oh,” Terra breathed out softly. “Does King Edgar have more relatives?”

“Well, King Edgar has a twin brother, you know. He was such a nice boy, always thinking of his family…”  She sighed lost in thought a moment. “Yes... His name is…”  she trailed off. “Well, considering I haven't heard anything of him in years, I don’t know what he may be calling himself! I'm sure he's a fine young man by now.”

“He doesn’t live here?”

“Oh no! He was just a boy when he left, even smaller than his brother. Oh, he looked so like their father!”  Smiling sadly she continued wistfully, “I often wonder where he is now, and what he's doing… he was a sweet little child. I wonder what he's like now?”

“Why did he leave?”

“No one really knows.” The High Priestess sighed. “People say he traded the throne for his own freedom…”

“For freedom…” Terra repeated softly.

“Humm. I have my own doubts about the theory. After their father… died,” she trailed off shakily. With a long sip of her tea, she continued, “Well, he was always such a brash child, had quite a temper, a very passionate boy you see. Definitely a child of fire,” she added clearly amused. “Don't get me wrong! He never hurt anyone in anger, but he left shortly after their father’s death. He was understandably devastated over it.” Pausing she took another long sip of her tea, adding softly, “We all were.”

The elderly woman poured them both some more tea, with grief filled eyes before continuing, “Some say the brothers had a fight about succession. Their father wanted them to rule together you see. I was under the impression the boys were agreeable to the idea. However, the royal council at the time was… well let’s say, less than enthusiastic about it.” She huffed out an annoyed sigh. “All King Edgar will say on the matter is that they worked it out between themselves.” With a small smile, a conspiratorial tone, and a giggle, she added, “There is even a silly rumor that they flipped a coin for the throne!”

Terra huffed out a surprised laugh.

“You said you have just been wandering?” the High Priestess suddenly inquired, “Has no one been showing you around?”

Terra shook her head.

“Have you had lunch yet?” she said slowly.

“No?” Terra answered confused.

The elderly woman sighed heavily. “You sit right here, my dear, I will bring you back some food.”

Terra blinked, but nodded as the woman walked off.

“Seriously! Did none of you think to feed the girl!” the High Priestess grumbled as she walked away.

Terra sipped the last of her tea enjoying the warm, comfortable surroundings.

She was hungry.

Terra wasn't sure why she hadn't noticed before.

---

(Locke)

The Sabre Mountain range had a rightfully earned reputation for being deadly. A great number of monsters lived there who would love to turn an unprepared traveler into a delicious snack. It was why Figaro kept the nice safe paths through the mountain range in such good condition.

A large claw swiped through the air, only just missing, the choocobo’s leg. Locke tightened his grip on the reins, as his fancy borrowed bird squawked indignant at the interruption to their flight.

They were, of course, not using the paths.

With a whistle to attack, Locke turned Beautiful back towards the monster. The bird slashed her metal reinforced talons down the monster’s flank.

The monster snarled, and spun to attack. Locke pulled out a Fire Skean, the tiny throwing knife warm in his hand. With a practiced flick of his arm, he sent it towards the monster. With a burst of fire, the item shattered.

Beautiful took advantage by lunging forward. She landed on the monster’s chest, knocking it to the ground. Talons dug deep into the monster as she slashed.

Careful to get out of range, they fluttered back in case the, whatever it was, got back up.

The monster didn’t get back up.

Locke grinned as he leaned forward to pat the chocobo’s neck. “Good bird! You are the best bird!”

“Kweh!” Beautiful chirped fluffing up proudly, before turning her head back to gently peck affectionately at Locke.

He laughed as he turned them back towards their destination. “Not much further now.”

“Kweh!”

As they glided down to the meeting area Locke grinned. It always amazed him how flying over the mountain was so beyond ridiculously faster. It was why messenger birds were so quick, but there was always a risk of interception with them. Considering time constraints, and sensitivity of the information, Locke had no choice but to suffer the annoyingly regular monster attacks.

“Good job!” Locke cooed, as he hopped off the bird and gave her a good scratch and a snack of the best greens he could swipe from Figaro’s stable. She deserved them, the whole trek would be near impossible without the flying and fighting ability of a Gold chocobo.

“Kweh!” Beautiful did a proud, happy strut as she ate her treat.

She was adorable, he was seriously tempted to keep her.

Banon came striding out into the meeting area in short order, his fluffy, light red hair mostly pulled back to keep it off his bearded face. His purposeful strides stopped close enough to talk without yelling, yet still be out of arm’s reach.

Locke wondered every time they met if Banon realized just how good Locke was with thrown weapons. He may be out of range of a knife in hand, but a thrown one… well, it was lucky for the guy Locke was on his side.

“What is so important to need an immediate meeting, Locke? You are lucky I didn’t have anything more pressing. I have an organization to run.”

“Wasn't like I had anymore warning,” Locke said with a shrug. “Have you spoken to Arvis in the past couple of days?”

Banon frowned, seemingly taken aback. “No. Why?”

“A couple days ago the Empire sent three Magitek armored soldiers to Narshe to get that frozen esper they found.”

Banon sucked in a breath. “Is Narshe finally going to join the fight?”

Locke shook his head. “I don't know, you will have to talk to Arvis. Anyway, two of them are presumed dead but the third one had a slave crown on her, and seems to be the fire witch the rumors have been going on about.”

“The fire…” Banon blinked for a moment. “Where is she now?” he asked slowly.

“Back in Figaro. She is really out of it, and doesn’t remember much, obviously, but this will hopefully take her off the board at least.” If nothing else, Locke hoped she would get some time to rest.

Banon was quiet for a long moment before asking, “Do you think she can be persuaded to join the Returners?”

Locke shook his head with a frown. “No idea,” he lied.

Realistically with her head how it was, she could probably be convinced of anything. It would be a horrible thing to do. The Empire messed with her head enough already.

“Convince her,” Banon commanded, “and bring her to meet me when it is feasible.”

Locke tilted his head. He didn’t take orders from Banon. “I will see what I can do,” he said slowly, while only thinking of stabbing the man a little.

“Anything else?”

“Ah, yes,” Locke said “King Edgar wants to know if you have gotten any messages from Doma.”

“What kind?” Banon asked with narrowed eyes.

“Not anything specific, just anything in the last week or so.”

“Nothing. Though it is not unusual.” Banon paused before continuing, “Doma keeps to themselves, as far as I know they want to keep out of this war as much as Narshe does.”

“I see,” Locke said trying his best to keep the annoyance out of his voice.

As if Doma hadn't been running covert operations against the Empire for years now.

As if the destruction of their train lines would ever be just shrugged off.

Locke really wanted to blame Banon for trying to withhold information, but he also had enough experience to know how important information control was. Still, it was lucky for Edgar, Locke was so good at getting all the shiniest pieces of information. “So, is there any thing you need to pass to King Edgar while I am here? Or information you need me to get to you?” He always had the creeping sensation like, no matter how hard he tried, he was still missing things they needed to know.

“No,” Banon said clippedly. “Just keep me updated about the girl.”

“Sure thing.” Locke swung himself up on to the chocobo. Perhaps he should ask Banon to let him know if Narshe finally got its head screwed on straight. “See ya!” he called out instead, as he turned the chocobo away.

Banon didn’t trust him very much.

He still hadn't mentioned where the Returner’s local base was.

Locke knew, obviously, but not because Banon told him.

He would just keep an eye on Narshe himself.

---

(Cyan)

With a soft huff Cyan leaned against the walkways’ low wall and looked over Doma Castle. The tall, sturdy dark stone walls marked a beautiful contrast to its lush plants and bountiful waterways. Trees bent over paths, ivy climbing along walls, and river breaks nestled in its corners. It stood in connection to, not opposition of, the land.

He smiled softly down at the youths training in the courtyard below. The group finishing up their cool down stances under the watchful eyes of the instructors.

The group were of the age it was becoming increasingly obvious who would move on to Knight Training, with hopes to become a Knight of Doma, and those who would need to find other paths to walk.

Maybe it was just a father’s pride, but Cyan was completely convinced his son Owain had already surpassed most of the training teens’ skill levels. His boy would be old enough to join the entry age group in a couple of years. Skill wise he could probably already join, but there was more to the age limit than just skill and theoretical coordination.

There were very important reasons why no child could join Knight Training until 16 or become a Knight till at least 20. No matter their skill nor blood. There was some amount of necessary settling to a person which came as one passed out of childhood and into adulthood. A knowledge on who you were, and who you wanted to be.

What you wanted to do with your life.

Even at twenty, many had no idea of such.

“Sir Cyan!”

Cyan turned with a smile as the boy ran up. “Ah, yes, young Mika. What dost thou need?”

“The King has called you to him!” His little chest puffed up with pride.

“I see, were thee told where I was to meet him?”

The boy nodded quickly as he said in a rush, “His lounge.”

Cyan smiled. “I see. Thank thee for informing me.”

With a wave, Mika ran further down the walkway with a quick, “Bye, Sir Cyan!” called behind him.

Cyan shook his head with a soft laugh, the young were always running. Owain had almost fallen off the walkways more than once. Yet, still, his son ran. Part of Cyan wondered if his worry over his son was the reason his black hair was beginning to gray at the edges.

Kids, so much trouble, yet so beyond worth it.

Cyan, of course, walked briskly. His King had summoned him after all.

As he rounded the corner, he nodded to the royal guards as they immediately opened the door to the royal lounge. With a soft, “Thank ye,” he strode into the rooms.

Moving towards the back room, he slowed his steps as he passed through the entry way and into the lounge proper, kneeling on the carpet.

King Doma, lounging on his favorite plush couch, turned his attention from the snack he was nibbling on towards Cyan with a bright smile. “Oh, there you are, my Cyan!”

“My lord.”

“Ah, yes, yes,” the king said with a delighted laugh. “None of that now,” he said dismissively, as he motioned his hand at the others in the room. “Out with all of you then,” he ordered offhandedly.

They all left with deep bows and a soft chorus of, “Yes, my lord.”

Cyan smoothly got to his feet smiling. “Thou wanted to see me?”

The King’s smile stiffened and dropped as he pushed himself to his feet, fingers curling, calling Cyan to him. “Indeed. I find myself rather worried about, well, everything.” As Cyan stopped before him, he gripped Cyan’s shoulders companionably for a moment. “Come, sit with me. Perhaps speaking with you will help ease my troubled mind,” the King said, as he threw himself back down into a sprawl on the couch.

Cyan sat down in a much more dignified fashion on the plush chair next to the couch, with an amused smile. “What troubles thy mind this evening, my lord?”

The King’s sigh was heavy as he picked back up his wine. “War, as it has been troubling me for far, far too long. I dare not say it in front of many, but I fear we may not be as prepared as we think,” he lamented as he stared into his red wine.

“The timeline thus far has been as expected,” Cyan reassured. “Everyone is well trained and ready for full out war to drop, and if nothing else, our stores stand full. We can weather here even long past the winter, if we must.”

“All the might of Doma, yet we are still only one nation.” King Doma turned to Cyan as he continued wisely, “Power is only so useful, if you can’t cover the spread of combat.” Taking a sip of his drink he paused in thought. “Ah! Cyan please help yourself,” he said suddenly, hand motioning to the tray of snacks and wine.

Cyan bowed his head. “I thank thee, my lord.” Filling up the king’s goblet first, he also poured half a cup for himself to sip on. “I was under the impression thou wert talking to King Figaro.”

“It has been a worrying long time since I have gotten a response from him.”

“Surely he would not abandon the treaties. Doma and Figaro have held as allies for hundreds of years, at least,” Cyan said carefully.

“No. I do not want to think so ill of him, but perhaps I was wrong, and he has truly sided with Vector all this time.”

Cyan shook his head. “What of the Returners?”

“I have not gotten any response from the messages I have sent about the Empire at our door step from them either.” With a heavy sigh, the King looked over to Cyan. “I am concerned there may have been a break in the lines of communication somewhere. I have come to believe something happened to the base I was talking with and they did not secure a second point of contact.”

Cyan hissed out a breath. “The down side to them having such a loose power structure.”

An oversight so large was going to cost them.

They could only hope it would be in time, not lives.

---

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Echos of an Empire

(Terra)

Pale stone bookcases scaled the walls all the way up to the ceiling far above Terra’s head. Reaching out, she placed her fingers carefully against the shelf under the old books. “All of these in this section are really about magic?” she asked softly.

“Well, mostly,” explained one of the people, who had been showing Terra around. “But the thing is… even though scholars all over the world are studying magic, You can only learn so much about something without seeing it…”  They shook their head. “So an unfortunate number of books end up being mostly guess work, or worse, just fanciful fabrication. Figaro tries to be very careful about how the books are sorted by amount of corroborating evidence. Still, it is very difficult to figure out what is a good source or not. As far as anyone knows, all of the information written 1000 years ago, when magic was still around, has been destroyed by now.” Taking in a shaky breath, they added, “Silly people, scholars… we still keep trying.”

A second scholar nodded as she leaned nearby. “Basically all we can confirm 100% is; the ancients once wielded a force known as ‘magic’ and those who mastered the art were called ‘magi’. Everything else seems to have conflicting information somewhere. There is even a theory about the gaps in knowledge being an attempt to try to stop a second War of the Magi from breaking out by controlling what people know.”

“You forgot about espers having existed,” the first one cut in.

“Yes, them too,” the second scholar said with a sigh. “Though, no one can agree what they even were.”

Terra blinked, if information was so hotly debated, it probably explained why the esper in Narshe was so important. “What theories do you think are true?”

“Oh! My favorites are the theories about espers and humans having lived side by side before the war!” They leaned forward eyes wide in excitement. “So much magic just being used must have been so interesting. There is a good amount of corroborating evidence for it too. Well at least from what I have heard. One day I would like to get into the Great Library of Doma and look at the sources myself.”

“We would all like to get into the archives of Doma,” the woman scholar said, as she sighed wistfully. “Even though that fire, hundreds of years back, destroyed so many one of a kind records.”

“I hear there are some really great tertiary sources left! They don’t say as much as anyone would like, but they show such insight about the primary and secondary sources no longer available.” They slumped slightly as they softly added, “Unfortunately, it is so incredibly difficult to get permission to study in Doma.”

They both nodded sadly.

Terra shook her head. “But… what is magic?”

“Now that is the big question, now isn't it. Or maybe I should say The Big Argument,” the woman said grandly with a laugh. “Personally, I think magic is like the life force of everything. So we all have some of it running through us and that is how we are even alive! So-”

“Don’t go filling her head with that nonsense!” a third scholar yelled from a row over.

“It isn't nonsense just because you think it is some kind of parasitic force, Nicky!”

“I never said it was ‘parasitic’!” the third scholar snapped as she stormed around the corner. “I said it was unnatural! People didn’t have magic at all till some got cursed by espers and turned into Magi! So now that the espers are gone no one has it anymore!”

“There is no proof of that! There have been plenty of isolated cases of people having magic since!”

“Baseless rumors! People being ignorant! Children’s stories!”

“-relics are an obvious-” “You can’t be serious I-” “-and boons are good points towards-” “-but espers were not!” “it was obviously talking about monsters so-” “-know! They were!-”

Terra backed away slowly as the three scholars started talking louder and louder over each other. Deciding to go look around anywhere but there, she made a hasty retreat from the library as the voices devolved into all out screaming.

She still had no idea what magic was, didn’t even get a chance to ask what espers were let alone bring up her own abilities. Leaning against a wall far enough to no longer hear them yelling, she hissed out a breath trying to calm her nerves.

When they said argument, they really meant it.

With a shake of her head she picked a random direction and started walking.

Terra quickly found wandering through Figaro, without a guide, meant she ended up in a lot of odd places.

Like the jail, apparently.

Terra was not sure anyone would have suggested she visit it. Wasn't sure she would have headed to it on purpose either, but since it was where she was, she was going to take the chance to look around. However, walking passed mostly empty cells wasn’t very interesting, but it was probably a better sign than them all being full.

Finally coming across an occupied one, she glanced inside at the man who was leaning back on the bed.

She stopped.

“Oh! Hey!” Swinging his legs off the bed, he waved her over. “A visitor! Don’t get many down here.” He grinned showing off two rows of sharp teeth. “I'm Lone Wolf, the pickpocket! Pleasure to make your acquaintance, of course.”

“I am Terra.”

“Fantastic.” Leaning forward he glanced the direction of the guard. “Hey, like to like, you think you could open the door for me?” he asked as his grin widened across his muzzle.

She blinked, then shook her head.

Lone Wolf barked out a laugh. “Aw well, it was worth a shot. No worries darlin’, I will be out in a shake!”

She nodded and backed away. “Good luck?”

“Oh, aren't you a sweet one,” he said sharply as she moved farther away.

Terra was fairly sure it wasn't a complement.

“Don’t worry about him,” called out a man from a few cells down.

Terra carefully moved over to look in, finding him also lounging on his bed.

“That guy is a bit of a jerk.” Turning to look at her, he continued, “Well, maybe we all are kinda jerks.” He laughed bright and unworried. “In the territory of thievin’ I suppose, or maybe being human.” With a shrug he flippantly added, “In my experience, humans suck.”

Terra frowned. “Aren't you human?”

“Yea! That is how I know for sure!”

She blinked at him for a moment while thoughts of being chased and being controlled made her frown. He may have had a point, but… “Have you met many… not humans?”

The thief looked at her for a moment, startled. “Uh well, monsters, mostly,” he said quickly. “At least they are upfront about wanting to kill and eat ya.” He sat up slowly, setting his feet on the ground as he watched her. “Met a moogle once, too,” he eventually continued, “They didn’t want any thing to do with me! Smart little guys.”

Terra jumped as loud arguing echoed through the jail.

“Relax,” the thief said with a huffed laugh. “Those are my boys, they're just blowing off steam.”  He shook his head. “It gets boring in here really fast. Not as bad as some places though. Figaro has the nicest jail I have ever been in, and I have been in quite a few!”

Terra blinked, and glanced around at the drab place.

“Besides, I'm sure King Edgar will let us out of here in no time. We're just small potatoes compared to the real threat lurking out there. Hes got bigger problems than a few pinched coin.”

“Real threat?” she asked slowly.

“Yea…” He stared at the wall for a long moment. “That Gestahl Empire. The damage they have done…” he trailed off.

The name caused a chill across her back. Why did the name sound…

“Lots of desperate people get made that way by war,” the thief continued not seemingly noticing her discomfort. “Worrying about some small time no ones like us ain't really a good use of his time. King Edgar knows that.”  He shrugged. “And that is why he should just let us go! It is all win-win!” he added with a grin.

Terra huffed out a laugh as she started to move away.

“Hey, wait, listen,” he said, voice quiet. “You look like driftwood, so some advice yea?”

She frowned, tilting her head. “What? Driftwood?”

He huffed out a laugh, it sounded tired. “Yea, someone just going where the tide tosses ya, driftwood.” Waving it off, he continued, “Never mind, point is you can’t control where you wash up, but what you can do, is pick what to make of it when you get there. Most importantly, make of it what you want. Never mind what others think or say, got to lean on what you tell yourself. Got to remember you gonna have to deal with who you become, so do what you got to do, but also be who you can live with bein’.”

She blinked. “Ok?” She nodded and turned to walk away.

“Just remember!” He laughed, this time with the edge of sorrow. “Save you a lot of ache later it will! Believe you me!”

Terra believed him.

With a shake of her head, and quick steps, she left the jail.

Still with no location in mind, just a sense of wanting to be warmer, she headed back outside. It was only slightly less hot with the day entering evening. How time got away from her so often she wasn’t sure.

“Kweh!” a large yellow bird chirped.

Terra paused a moment and watched the people patrolling around the castle on the backs of the birds. Slowly she made her way over to one of them and called out, “Excuse me.”

He looked down at her with a small frown. “Yes? Do you need help with something?”

“Are they soft?”

The man blinked in confusion before his face cleared and he laughed good-naturedly. “Oh yes! Would you like to pet him?” He looked around before he leaned forward and lowered his voice, “Just don’t go telling everyone I let you. The birds aren't supposed to get pets while on duty. The trainers say they will get spoiled, but! What’s the point if you can’t spoil a bird! Right?”

Not knowing what to say, Terra reached out and ran her fingers over the feathers on the bird’s wing. She smiled, delighted at the softness.

“Here is his favorite,” the man’s voice was soft as he directed her hand to the side of the bird’s neck.

“Kweh!” the bird gave a happy little chirp as he flapped his wings.

With a laugh the man motioned to one of the towers. “I need to keep on my rounds, but there are baby chicks at the stable to play with, if you are interested.”

Terra was definitely interested.

The stable hands nodded at her request, and with a laugh they waved her off to a room. It was only a matter of minutes before she was covered in tiny chirping fluff balls.

They were so small.

So tiny.

Terra wanted to protect them all.

---

(Edgar)

With a sigh, Edgar ran his fingers down his braid looking at each of his Council members in turn. None of them looked angry, concerned, or confused, a blessing he could not have hoped for even a few years ago. “Alright, any further points of contention? Everyone understands the plans? Yes?”

The chorus of, “Yes, your highness,” held mostly fond amusement.

Edgar huffed a laugh as he stood. “Alright, meeting adjourned. If anyone thinks of anything else let me know immediately.”

As most of the council milled out with bows and good nights, Codwin, however, stayed in his seat. Once the rest of the group left, doors closing quietly behind them, Edgar sighed and sat back down. “Ah, something else, Chancellor?”

Codwin rested his chin on his hand. “Less a matter of state, I think, but have you spent any time with our guest to make a personal assesment?”

“No, not since meeting her. I have been getting reports, through out the day, from the group assigned to following her around, of course.”

“As have I, naturally. Was surprised they were mostly positive.”

Edgar nodded. “Locke seems to have an interesting ability to read people. I have never been able to tell if it was him seeing the truth of a person or just him being able to convince someone to lean into the traits he wanted them to.” He shifted with a frown before admitting, “Also, the High Priestess gave me a talking to for not making sure someone fed the girl.” Rubbing his temples, he tried to banish the headache out of his skull. “Terra is going to throw a wrench into so many things.”

Codwin, the jerk, laughed. “Perhaps you should make sure she has dinner then.”

Edgar let a smirk drift over his face. “Oh no. Are you suggesting I have dinner with a beautiful woman! The strife and hardship!”

“Have a good meal, Edgar.” He shook his head and stood, the amused smile never left his face as he bowed and left.

Sometimes Edgar got the feeling his people were humoring him. Better than the alternative, he supposed.

Codwin of course had a point, as he usually did.

It was why Edgar made him Chancellor after all.

Chair carefully pushed back in after he stood, he plucked his spear from where it leaned against the table and headed out to find the girl.

Along the way people waved as he passed, or gave him a small bow as they went about their evening.

It wasn't this relaxed even just a few years ago.

Really, he much preferred how it was now. Amused humoring and all.

His throne room had some of the oldest of the tapestries in the castle hung up on it’s walls. Tales stitched into beautiful art. It made it a fascinating place to take visitors, especially if they were shown around by people who could recite the stories they depicted.

It was little surprise, even without a guide, Terra had wandered in to see them. She stood, tilting her head one way then the other while looking up at the large, colorful tapestry depicting a bunch of scenes of various gatherings.

Edgar’s favorite part of it had always been the portion with a group of people watching the intricately woven sunset. Around the full boarder were wagons, seemingly out of place with the rest of the piece, yet just as carefully created. They always made him feel just a bit wrong footed. Brushing off the feeling he laughed softly at her confused head tilt. “Can’t figure out what it is depicting?”

She jumped before turning his way. “No. It is… confusing.”

“I completely agree. There are stories to almost all of the tapestries in the castle, but I am convinced most of them have parts which have been lost over time. All I kind of understand about this one is; the moon is not the sun, but it also is not the moon.”

She frowned looking back and forth between him and the tapestry. “That… was the part you understood?”

Edgar opened his mouth, closed it, and shrugged. “Hey, it makes as much sense as the rest of it! Trust me!”

She just looked at him for a long moment before looking back at the tapestry.

Edgar huffed out a laugh. “In any case, I was looking for you to ask if you would do me the honor of being my lovely companion for dinner?”

She blinked at him.

“It wouldn't be anything formal of course, just the two of us.”

She blinked at him.

“So, no worrying about remembering which fork is which.”

She just kept expressionlessly blinking at him.

Edgar got the feeling this conversation was going about as well as it could.

After a long moment, she finally nodded. “Ok?”

“Ok.” Trying his best to keep a friendly smile, he led her towards his small, less formal, dining area just off his main rooms.

Inside, the small table, barely large enough to seat four people comfortably, was already set with meals for both of them. Probably Codwin’s doing, he realized, as he sat down and motioned to the seat across from him. “Please, sit.”

She took a moment to seemingly register the statement, before sitting down.

Edgar ate a few bites of his food, while she just stared at hers. “If something is not to your liking, other foods can be arranged,” he said slowly.

Her eyes snapped up to him, obviously startled. She shook her head and began to nibble on a bit of everything on her plate.

After a long moment he asked, “Well? How do you like my castle?”

She blinked.

“Did you enjoy looking around?”

She nodded.

“What part did you like best?”

She shrugged.

Edgar barely stopped himself from sighing. So far it was not the most awkward meal he had ever had, but it was definitely looking like it would be high up on the list. “Was there anything you wanted to ask me?” he said, hopeful for her having some topic to discuss. He was drowning, and such a thing was exceptionally difficult to do in a desert.

She started to shake her head, then stopped, before whispering out a soft, “Maybe?”

“What would you like to ask? Anything is fine.”

She blinked at him before softly asking, “Why build a castle in the middle of the desert?”

This time Edgar was the one who blinked for a long moment. Then he couldn’t help the huff of laughter. “Well, I would like to tell you all the fantastic advantages to living in the middle of all this sand, but mostly it was just built here long before I was born.” He shook his head. “Did Locke tell you to ask that?”

“Kind of? I asked him first and he said I should ask you.”

“Ah yes, that sounds right!” Edgar said, amused. Poor girl, trying to get a clear answer out of Locke. “You have to be careful about what he tells you. What he says, what he means, and what everyone else thinks very rarely match up!”

“He… isn't trustworthy?” Terra asked with a frown.

“Hey now, I didn’t say that,” Edgar quickly countered. “I trust him with my life, more importantly, my people. What I am saying is how he sees things doesn’t always match up with everyone else’s way of seeing them. He, with his sticky fingers, has claimed more than once; if he has it, then it must be his.” He shook his head before mumbling, “I swear he thinks pockets are just mobile treasure chests.”

“So he is a thief?”

“Basically put, yes,” Edgar said uncomfortably. He probably should not have implied as much. “He prefers to be called a treasure hunter though,” he tacked on, hoping Locke wouldn’t be too upset with him.

“Oh,” she breathed out softly, looking down as she poked her food with her fork. “Why are you being so kind to me?” her voice soft, as if she hadn't quite meant to ask.

Setting his drink down he looked over at her. Judging by how uncomfortable she looked, they were probably both a bit startled at the question.

“Is it because of my...abilities?” she asked, her shoulders hunching slightly.

Edgar frowned as he watched her seem to fold in on herself. Such a beautiful woman looking so dejected was a travesty he would not stand for. “I'll give you three reasons,” he began while placing his hand over his heart. “First of all, Your beauty has captivated me!”  Leaning forward he purred, “Second… I'm dying to know if I'm your type!”  With a sigh, he leaned back and added dismissively, “and I guess your... abilities...would rank a distant third.”

Terra blinked blankly at him for an uncomfortable amount of time.

Edgar had rather hoped for a reaction of at least amusement.

After a moment, he took one of the most awkward sips of drink he had ever sipped.

“......? What's with you, anyway?”  she finally said, her face twisted in confusion.

He opened his mouth, closed it then huffed out a surprised laugh. “Well,” he said with a shake of his head. “Guess my technique's getting a bit rusty…”  Over the years he had gotten plenty of experience being turned down by beautiful people, but it was rare when he was shut down quite so completely.

Edgar laughed softly to himself as he took another bite of his dinner. “I merely meant, however intriguing your powers may be, it is a lesser concern than you having a chance to recover.”

Terra blinked, then nodded rather stiffly, before turning back to her meal.

Oh how he hoped she wasn’t going to go back to just blinking at him.

Still, Terra was healing.

Very fast no less.

He could handle a bit of an over abundance of blinking.

---

(Terra)

Stars.

So many stars, stretched so, so far across the sky.

Even with the lights of Figaro castle, they still shone so bright.

Terra only vaguely remembered the nights prior, with no memory of the stars. She could only figure she had just never looked up.

King Edgar and Locke were talking, their soft voices barely carried across the courtyard, meaning of their words lost in the wind.

“Have a good dinner?” Locke asked as he came up beside her.

She nodded.

King Edgar smiled at her and placed his hand on his chest. “I had a room prepared for you Terra. I do hope you sleep well,” he said warmly. Letting his hand drop he tilted his head. “Locke, find a corner out of the way somewhere for yourself, or something.” he said flatly, waving his hand dismissively, as he turned and walked away.

“You Jerk!” Locke yelled sputtering at the King’s back.

Chill ran down Terra’s spine.

King Edgar just laughed as he disappeared around the corner.

Locke huffed. “Come on, I will show you to your room,” he said turning towards her. “Hey what’s with the look?”

She glanced towards where the King had walked away.

“Ah, hey, don’t worry about that! He was just joking, I have a place to sleep,” he said with a warm laugh. “Come on.” Motioning with his hand for her to follow he turned and headed off down the stairs.

Terra followed, confused. Locke’s sleeping arrangements were not what was concerning her. Did it really not matter that he had spoken to the King like that? Was he not worried about…

About…

Consequences?

Yet, Locke’s steps were easy and he was calmly rambling about... something. He obviously wasn't worried at all.

King Edgar was strange, but he was kind to her, at least so far. She still did not get why… but maybe it wasn't her. Perhaps he was just…

She didn’t know.

“This will be your room for as long as you stay here,” Locke said suddenly holding a door open for her.

Slowly she stepped into the room. Colorful tapestries hung from the walls, a large plush bed pushed against one wall, two windows, one even with a seat she could lay and look at the stars on. It was beautiful and far larger than she would have expected.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to drag you around like this without giving you a chance to rest,”  Locke said, his smile looked as tired as she felt. “The last couple of days have been solid running.” He shook his head. “Not like anything could really have been done about it. But... I am not even sure if I properly introduced myself! I’m-”

“You're Locke, right?” She shifted when she realized she had interrupted, but he didn’t seem mad so she continued, “You did mention it, also… King Edgar told me about you. Is it true that you're a thief?”

Locke sucked in a breath. “I'm a Treasure Hunter!”  he snapped, his voice seeming to rebound around the room in sharp echoes.

Terra jerked back away from him.

A long moment passed as she waited for something to follow the yelling.

Locke cleared his throat, and took a step back. “Sorry. That was… louder than I intended,” he said much softer, he took a deep breath in and slowly let it out. “It...” he trailed off, shook his head and tried again, “Treasure hunter, I am a... treasure hunter. It is an important difference…” Turning slightly, he looked off to the side, staring at nothing.

King Edgar had mentioned Locke preferred treasure hunter. He hadn't said it was so important to him though. Locke looked… sad. Plus, he couldn’t have gotten more sleep than she had, he must be exhausted too. “Ok. Treasure hunter,” she said decisively.

He blinked and looked at her for a moment, his sad smile slowly sliding into a smirk. “Ah yes, I am glad you have come to see it my way!”

Locke looked away for a long moment, shifted, before straightening and looking back at her. “So, the situation is; everyone is rather hoping to convince you to their side.” He hesitated a moment more before continuing, “On the surface, Edgar pretends to support the Empire. Truth is, he's collaborating with an underground resistance group called the Returners, who are working against the Empire. I serve as their go-between. It is where I had to run off to earlier, I had to pass info down the chain. The old man you met in Narshe is one of us, too.”

“The Empire... But, I'm a soldier of the empire!…?”

“Not anymore,”  he said quickly. “Or at least you don’t have to be. It is up to you to decide.”

Terra blinked. “Decide?”

“Yea, The Empire were the ones who put that crown on you, they had to be. They were using you. At this time we have no idea if you joined willingly in the first place, or why they used that thing on you at all. Whatever happened, things are different now… You have a choice.”

“Its just… I don't understand… I don’t know what I should do.” Terra walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. “Whenever I try to think, it just makes my head hurt even worse…” She looked up at him. “What should I do?”

“I can't tell you what to do,” Locke said gently. “It is something you need to figure out for yourself and you don't have to decide right now. You'll soon find your way… All that really matters is that you make your own decisions from now on.”  Walking over he placed his hand on her shoulder. “You don't have to think too hard right now. Give yourself a chance to settle, to find your balance. You'll know what you want to do when the time comes.”  When she didn’t respond he patted her shoulder and left closing the door quietly behind him.

Terra looked at her shoulder, still warm where his hand had been. “What I want to do? But how will I know which way... is right...?”

Plopping back into the soft bed she closed her eyes and tried to reach for anything about the Empire.

Any knowledge.

Any memory.

A voice?

Wind?

‘Soldiers of the Empire! We stand at the dawn of a new age!’ a proud voice said. A speech? ‘The lost power of magic has returned to us! It is our destiny, and ours alone, to take this mystic force and claim what is rightfully ours!’ A man stood with an army at his feet. ‘We are the chosen ones!’ the voice declared. Small snippets of a long speech washed out of the darkness of her memories. ‘The time has come for us to claim our rightful dominion over the world!’ The memory of a chill going down her spine. The world? ‘With our new-found power, nothing can stand in our way!’ She shuddered as she pulled the blanket close around her, the echo of a long over chant rang in her head.

‘Hurrah!’ the crowd cheered, ‘Long live Emperor Gesthal!’

---

Chapter Text

C hapter 5 : Questions of Loyalty

(Terra)

Terra flailed, clawing at the blanket, desperately trying to get free. Covers shoved away, she jerked up in bed, hand out stretched to ward off an attack.

The room was quiet, except for her gasping breath.

It was still, save the firelight dancing ready at her fingertips.

Her fire lit up the room in warm colors, even as the chill of the nightmare kept her breaths short. With a flick of her fingers, she put out the flame as she let herself fall back with a soft thump and a sharp exhale.

Her heart pounded.

Glancing at the still dark windows Terra frowned. She couldn’t have gotten much sleep.

Something from her dream crept along her memory, something small no longer moving.

Terra stumbled quickly out of bed.

Once she finished tying up her hair, and settled the cape comfortably on her shoulders, she took a moment to breathe.

The dream had been little more than a horror filled haze, yet it haunted her, creeping along the dark corners of her mind. Despite how much she wanted to know more about her past, she was rather glad it wasn’t more solid.

Ready as she felt she could be, Terra pushed open the door to her room and stepped out into the surprisingly cool hall of Figaro Castle. Soft echos of her own footfalls blended into the early morning steps of the others already out and about as she walked up to the highest place she had discovered.

With a relieved sigh, she exited out of the stairway and into the open area on top of Figaro. Leaning against the wall she looked out towards the desert which was still set in the deep darkness of beyond early morning.

Soft foot steps and a gentle, “Hey,” made her turn to look back at Locke as he joined her by the wall. “You are up early,” he finished just as soft.

Not sure what else to do, she shrugged and nodded.

“Trouble sleeping?”

Terra hesitated, looking back out into the dark. “Nightmares.” She could still feel their unseen cold claws cutting into her.

“Not surprising.” Locke turned to look out over the vast, dark, desert before continuing, “Anything you want to talk about?”

They were silent, both looking out over the wall.

“Why was I with the Empire?” Terra eventually asked the darkness. “There must have been a reason.”

“Do you think you joined before they…” he trailed off.

“Yes.” She did not know why she was so sure… but, “I remember, vaguely, when he…” voice almost lost in the wind as she looked down at her hands clutched around the stones of the wall. “The feeling of horror and betrayal.”

Locke hissed out a breath beside her.

“Who am I? Who was I?” she said through gritted teeth. “Before. Before they…” she trailed off, raising her gaze to the sky, to the not quite light of morning. “Was it all because of my abilities? Better a weapon then-”

“Hey,” Locke cut in quickly, “speculation about what you can’t remember will only get you turned around.” Leaning heavily on the wall, he looked her in the eye. “For now, worry about what you can see and confirm.” He paused before adding a soft, “Yea?”

“Yea,” she breathed out.

“Don’t worry.” He nudged her lightly with his elbow. “I will keep an eye out for you in the meantime.”

Terra didn’t respond.

There was no way for her to know who to trust…

Yet, part of her hoped anyway.

Curling her fingers around her pendent, she allowed herself to just breathe.

Together, they turned their attention out to the lightening horizon, and watched as the sun rose.

---

(Mog)

Words still rung in his head as Mog twitched awake. With a grumbled sigh, he pushed himself up. It wasn’t like going back to sleep would get him more actual rest.

Kupan turned his head and frowned, so Mog patted his head in assurance before carefully rolling himself out of the sleep pile. Mog quietly fluttered above the others as he headed to the main living area of the Den.

He would get a sweet snack, hopefully it would help unfluff his fur.

That old dude, Ramuh, was getting to him, well… getting to all of them really.

Yanking a package of dried fruit out of storage, he grumbled to himself. Moogles had been minding their own pompoms for hundreds of years, and it had mostly worked out for them. Kept them out of the ridiculous politics of humans at least.

Yet, that old dude kept… insisting they needed to change their ways.

Invading dreams was a strange way to go about it! Nothing said good intentions like interrupted sleep.

Apparently.

Plopping himself down on the soft pillows and fluffy blankets, he bit into the fruit harshly. What did the guy even want them to do? Moogles weren't really fighters overall, and their population was not very large!

Vast majority of the time fighting was such a pointless thing to do!

It just led to death…

but…

If Ramuh was right, if those humans were trying to restart the Old War… then there would be no getting out of it.

It would be fight or die.

Mog sunk his teeth into the piece of fruit with an angry snarl.

Humans were so annoying.

They always dug unwaveringly for things they were convinced they needed, and when they had it, they just ended up wanting even more.

“Kupo!” Moggie waved as he flew over, pointing his paw then looping it through the air and pointing it palm down.

Mog couldn’t hold back the sigh. Of course the Narshe guards were already here for another ‘conversation’. They seemed convinced the moogles knew about what happened to the Girl Who Fell.

Well they did, but that wasn't the point.

Mogsy had told them everything when they came by yesterday, and Moglin had told them the day before yesterday too! It wasn't their fault the humans didn't bother to even try to understand moogle speak.

Unfortunately, it always ended up being their problem.

Worse, it was his turn to try to get through to those… humans.

Mog popped a last piece of fruit into his mouth, before stuffing the rest into his pouch for later. It was likely he was going to need a sweet treat to get through the meeting.

After a quick debate with himself, he grabbed his spear before joining the leaving party. Normally he would probably not go armed, but the Old Guy’s warnings were still ringing in his head.

Not like he really thought this would turn into a fight.

But... they had sent monsters towards their Home Den.

Mog wasn’t comfortable taking chances.

Judging by how most of the leaving party was also armed, he was far from the only one thinking as much.

With a short flight to the meeting area, they stopped just inside the cavern, which was already set up with a table and two chairs, both made for human ease of use, of course.

Splitting from the rest of the moogles, Mog fluttered over towards the table alone.

“There you are.” The human’s smile was just as unyielding as her posture. “I am Captain Milon. I am here for information regarding a woman.”

Mog settled himself at the table with a nod and a soft, “Kupo.”

“Well, I will just begin then, shall I?”

He nodded, motioning his paw in agreement.

Captain Milon moved to the other side of the table and watched him for a moment. “As I tried to explain to you yesterday.”

Anger flashed through him. Yesterday?! He was not here! Yesterday, they spoke to Mogsy! The two of them looked completely different! The human should have at least been able to tell by their pompoms! Mogsy’s was dark red! Mog’s was light yellow!

Well, if she wasn’t even going to try to keep straight who she was talking to, Mog didn’t see any reason he should bother either.

“It is very important we find this woman,” the human continued speaking slowly, and a bit loud.

Mog rolled his wings and half payed attention to what she was going on about. Saying the same thing in a bunch of different ways, as slowly and loudly as possible, was a weird thing humans did when they didn’t like what a moogle told em.

It was incredibly annoying.

“After what she did-”

Flapping his wings to catch her attention, he held out his paw sideways then flipped it paw pad up, asking what she did, “Kupo?” No one had bothered to tell them, just expected them to hand over information!

The Captain’s smile became more of an angry baring of teeth. “If you would just cooperate and tell us where she is hiding we could send her home!”

Mog put his paw out pad down, swept it up so the pad faced him then swept his arm away from himself, holding his arm out all the way, pad faced away from them. She was gone, she left! When whatever her name was, did not respond for a moment he repeated the motion, “Ku! Kupo!”

“Any response at all would be nice.” Her lip curled above what probably only she thought still passed as a smile. “Anything?”

Mog let his arm drop with a soft thud against the table.

One of them was failing at communication here, and it wasn't him.

He rubbed his paws against his face.

How could he tell them the Girl Who Fell was gone in a way they would bother to understand. He flat out refused to stumble over the human language, when they weren't even giving the most basic attempt to understand his!

Tapping his paw pads on the table he came to an idea. Maybe if he just pointed down one of the paths away from the mountain?

Or was that still to complicated?

Sighing, he fluttered over to one of the area exits, and looked back at them.

“Leaving will not resolve this!” the human snapped, chair flopping backwards pathetically on to the ground.

Mog waited for a moment, before putting his paw out and flicking it back to himself.

When she did nothing, he repeated the action.

Then once again, when she still just stood there snarling at him like one of Narshe’s Lobo.

“Oh!” someone in the back exclaimed quietly, “I think that means he wants you to follow him!”

Mog could over look the leader’s thunderous expression, if she would just follow him. To Mog’s relief, she finally walked over to him.

“What,” the woman said flatly.

Wings fluttering, he led them through the caves towards a common exit used to travel away from Narshe. There were exits closer but he doubted the humans would ever understand what he was saying if he didn’t take them to a blatantly obvious exit.

Mog landed at the mouth of the cave then repeated the she left motion. Then pointed away from Narshe with his paw, in what was almost a desperate attempt to get the point across.

When they all just looked a him blankly, he resigned himself to repeating the actions over and over.

And once more still.

“She left!” the Captain exclaimed, like it was a huge deduction and not what Mog, had been saying the whole time.

What they all had been saying for days.

Mog nodded with a flat look. Amazing, she figured out one whole thing.

“Oh, great! This isn't going to go down well with the Elder Council!” The Captain turned to sneer down at Mog. “You could have told us sooner!” she snarled out, turned on her heel and stormed off.

“Dealing with the moogles is so annoying,” one of the guards in the back mumbled to another as they left, “They don’t pay attention, and barely understand anything of what is going on.”

Mog pulled out his snack as he watched the humans storm off to report the information they could have had long before, if any of them had bothered to try to understand them. Tossing a chunk of fruit in his mouth, he shook his head.

Sure, the moogles decided to give the Girl Who Fell and the Respectful One a head start, but it was the Narshe humans who’s actions ended up giving them days.

Of course the moogles would be blamed for all of it.

Mog really hated humans.

---

(Cyan)

As the sun rose, the thick fog surrounding Doma began to dissipate from the areas around the castle. Across the country side, fires burned through homes; a glowing reminder of the destruction already wrought by the empire.

Still, they had managed to evacuate most of the people, and supplies, thanks to the protective cover of fog. The Empire had made the costly mistake of assuming the low visibility would hinder both sides equally.

Underestimating Doma was a mistake many had made, and come to gravely regret.

Cyan scanned the area a final time before continuing into the Eastern Gate behind the last of the civilians. “I am fine,” he said while quickly waving off the medic when they started towards him. “Where art there still civilians beyond the walls?”

“Sir Cyan! I think there are still people at the port!” someone yelled.

Cyan did not bother to look to see who spoke before rushing towards the Western Gate. He practically launched himself up the steps to the lookout. Mists should have been clear enough to see the port, yet the air in that direction was dark and thick with what was far more sinister than the remnants of fog.

“It's hopeless!” one of the young sentries exclaimed near by. “We already lost the port! If we send more people to get the ones still trapped there, the empire will follow us back, we can't keep them all out!”

The sentry next to them swallowed. “So, this is it… all those people just die?”

“Wait! Be ye not so hasty! The battle is not yet lost!” Cyan smiled at the two of them, making sure to seem more assured than he felt. “Everyone! To me!” he ordered loudly, drawing everyone within ear shot. His shoulders loosened when he saw Sirs Milly and Teak rush around the corner and settling amongst the group. The addition of two more knights would have to be enough.

“We shall split into four groups,” Cyan continued as he pointed out a number of the sentries. “Ye shall be the first group. Thine job shall be to get as many civilians away from the port and back to the gate as possible, while Sirs Milly, Teak and I shall prioritize handling the Empire soldiers.”

He scanned the group again pointing out most of the ones still unassigned. “Ye shall be the third group. Thine responsibility shall be to hold the area outside of the gate. Make sure no enemy passes thee,” he said gravely before turning his attention to the last group. “The rest of ye, shall stand in wait to close the gate.” He gave each of the five young people a heavy look before continuing, “If the gate is threatened, thou shalt immediately close it.”

“But what if our people are still out there?” one asked, voice shaking.

“Then thou shalt close it.”

“But-”

“No,” Cyan cut over sharply, “We art the protectors of Doma. Our main responsibility is to keep safe those behind us. Thou hast the whole of Doma to protect.” He looked each of them in the eye. “Thou. Shalt. Close it.”

Moving his gaze to the far too young faces of those he tasked to guard the gate, he continued, “and if it must close, thou shalt stand before the enemy and let it close at thy back.” He looked between the grim faces. “Do ye understand?” he finished softly.

Backs straightened, they all to a person replied, “Yes Sir!”

“Good,” he breathed out slowly before ordering, “Everyone in position!” With a quick count and assessment, he motioned for the gate to be opened. Immediately he ducked under as he drew his sword.

The group to be left guarding the entrance solidified into position behind him, while civilians, who had been hiding nearby, rushed over to the promised safety of the castle.

With a motion of his hand, Cyan ordered the rescue group forward, while moving to take point himself. As one they spread out, quietly and swiftly heading across the distance to the port.

Nearly everything was on fire.

What had once been artful benches, fences, and even walls were turned to near unrecognizable rubble. Thick smoke rolled over what was left, permeating the area with its burning, acidic scent and floating ash.

A scream yanked Cyan’s attention away from the destruction. He pivoted and ran.

Cowering, a young man lifted his arms, as if it would stop the Empire Soldier’s sword. Cyan’s blade flashed out, just in time to deflect the strike, forcing her to stagger back in surprise. Behind Cyan, a sentry grabbed the hurt young man and pulled him away.

Regaining her bearings, the Empire Soldier rushed forward with a swipe of her sword.

Cyan easily side-stepped and brought his own sword around in a quick slice. By the time she hit the ground he had already rushed off to his next target.

Then to the next.

“Sir Cyan!” Sir Milly hissed as she joined at his side. “I found the Empire commander.” She tilted her head for him to follow.

What was left of the buildings in the area she led him to were covered with soot and flame. Standing in the rubble was a group of soldiers, and their much better armed, and armored, commander.

Keeping out of sight, Cyan leaned out from cover to take a look at the group. With a scoff he said, “They seem to be the sort to only go after weak targets. If we can but fell their commander, they should break rank and withdraw.”  He nodded decisively. “If thou shalt keep others away, I shall meet him on the field of battle.”

“You got it!” Sir Milly grinned sharply. “Let their commander have it!”  she said, before quickly moving around the rubble. It was only a moment before she disappeared into the smoke.

Cyan smirked as he stepped out, dropping his usual smooth, dignified strides, in favor of stalking forward through the haze. “I am Sir Cyan, retainer to the king of Doma.”

Jerking their attention to him, the Empire Soldiers closed formation around their commander.

Stretching his smile wide into a baring of teeth, Cyan set himself just far enough away to make them have to come to him. “Ready thine axe!” he commanded harshly, before allowing his voice to dip, “For I am thy worst nightmare…”  Slowly he drew his sword.

His words hung in the air for a moment, as many of the soldiers shifted back away from him.

The commander scoffed and bounced his axe on his shoulder. “Arrogant, aren't you,” he sneered, as even the Empire Soldiers who moved back made agreeing noises; the lying cowards.

Cyan tilted his head slowly. “Not at all,” he replied evenly, setting his stance.

Laughing, the Empire Commander brought his axe forward. “I would say I hope you have made peace with your death, but I don’t really care either way.” As he finished talking he charged forward, a few of the others just behind him.

Cyan shifted his foot, digging into the ash covered ground, he let them get close.

As the axe’s first strike came down, Cyan dodged. Easily moving under the leader’s guard, he swung up his sword landing a solid Tiger slash to the man’s chest armor, staggering the commander back.

Quickly moving between the soldiers, they swiftly fell to Cyan’s Flurry attack.

“What in the!” the commander yelled, “How did you-”

Cyan cut him off with a Fang attack; dispatching the problem.

The commander fell with a silencing thud.

For a moment, only the fire moved.

Cyan slowly turned, eyes unblinking, to the rest of the empire soldiers. He broke the silence with a slowly enunciated snarl, “Run.”

Feet scrambling, sliding and falling on the ash and rubble they desperately moved away. “The captain's been defeated!” a voice choked out loudly. “Retreat!” they screamed, “Retreat!”

Cyan tilted his head as he watched them make fools of themselves. Once they were out of sight he lowered his sword slightly, and rolled his shoulders.

“You done being creepy?” Sir Milly asked with a laugh, as she came up behind him.

He rolled his head back to look flatly at her over his shoulder.

“Ah! No then, huh?” She laughed harder patting him on the shoulder.

Sighing, he readjusted his stance.

Although Cyan was never quite sure why people found him unsettling at times, he had long since learned to lean into it when it could be used as an advantage, and cover it when it was not one. It no longer bothered him like it had in his youth.

Besides, his wife thought it was charming.

Cyan shook his head. “There is only so much time this shall have bought us. Any word on how many people art left?” he asked as they both turned to rejoin the others.

It wasn't long before Sir Teak jogged over to them. “Most are saying the areas they could get to are clear of people.”

“Alright,” Cyan called out to a group of sentries, “Move quickly through the areas not yet cleared. They have moved back for now but we can not rely on how long their cowardice shall last. Start rounding everyone up and withdraw into the castle.”

“Yes Sir!”

They quickly finished, and rushed back towards the castle.

Cyan pulled up short just outside of the gate, motioning everyone inside as he quickly counted. He held up a hand to the gate operator, keeping his eyes to the direction of the port, until several figures stumbled their way over, and through the gate.

He lowered his hand, stepping inside the opening just before it closed with a resounding clang, and the sound of the heavy lock sliding into place.

With a nod he looked around at the stressed, yet relieved, faces of those surrounding him. “Good job. Lives have been protected and the castle is secure. Now we shall wait within its walls, while our enemies grow tired without.”  He watched for a long moment as they began to disperse.

They were all so… young.

Cyan barely remembered being their age.

He couldn’t help wondering how many of them would make it to his.

---

(Terra)

The wind off the desert was so dry and warm it did nothing to cool anyone standing in it.

It did, however, do a great job of getting people covered in sand.

It was not a good trade-off.

Terra scowled as she scanned the area yet again. It was just sand, sand, and more sand! People did not just build in a location for no reason! A place like this, with no plants, no water, no reason to be here, was a senseless place to put a castle!

Yet! Somehow it… worked!

How was Figaro thriving out in the middle of this… nothingness?

Terra hissed out an unhappy breath as she turned sharply and determinedly walked over to where Locke was leaning against the castle, in one of the few places there was actually shade. He grinned at her as she stopped in front of him.

She frowned back. “Where is the water? I can’t find it. I have looked.”

“Oh, there is a whole thing about the water.” Locke shook his head with a laugh. “I don’t understand it, don’t bother asking Edgar either, he will start going into technical terms.”

“Technical terms?” she asked, her frustration blending back into confusion.

“Yea, I know he doesn’t seem it, but he is a master designer of machinery. He has a hand in inventing a lot of things for Figaro, so he will slip into technical talk if you get him going on the right topic.”

She blinked at him.

“Oh! It is not exactly water, but have you seen The Green Room?” Locke asked suddenly.

“No? I don’t think so.”

“Oh, you would know if you had!” He pushed off the wall. “Come on! I will show you, you’ll love it!” Motioning for her to follow, he turned and headed back into the main part of the castle. They walked down many turns until he eventually pushed open an extremely thick door and waved her in.

Stepping in she was first shocked by the humidity and the smell of damp dirt, then at the amount of… green.

Moving just a bit further, she ran her hands through the soft green leaves of a bush. The room was so large and so filled with plants, it blocked out the view of the far walls that must have existed. High above the tree tops the ceiling arched, the partly clear material glowing with the light of the sun.

“Oh, hi!” A young woman poked her head out from behind some kind of shrub. “You are the visitor people have been talkin’ about, aren't you?” Dirt flew from her hand as she waved.

Terra blinked.

The woman blinked back. “Ah, yea, must be, huh? Well! Welcome to the Green Room!” she yelled happily as she tossed her hands out to her sides in a grand gesture, before continuing in a rush, “This is where we grow food and such. It is mostly a supplemental food supply, but it is always wise to have something that doesn’t have to be imported. Plus, fresh berries are the absolute best! Oh! Oh! And the chocobos love having the freshest greens too! Makes them chirp so happy! You should totally try taking some to them, when you get a chance! Oh! Love your hair by the way! It is green! Green is the best color!”

Terra nodded slowly. “Oh. Uh, thank you?”

She rubbed her hand on the back of her head, spreading dirt through her light hair. “Oh, sorry, was that too much at once? I know I talk too much for most people, and after your whole brain scra-” she snapped her mouth shut. “Uh… Well! Anyway! Never mind that! Moving on!” she all but shouted. “I am the person to talk to about the Green Room! I know all about all the plants! Uh, just don’t eat anything without asking first though some of this isn't food, or isn't tasty unless cooked.”

Terra nodded “Ok, thank you.”

“No worries!” Grinning she bounced on her toes. “Anyway, I have plants to plant!” She spun on her toes and darted off while yelling, “Hi Locke! Bye Locke!”

Terra just looked in the direction she ran for a long moment.

Locke was laughing behind her. “She is always a ball of energy.”

Terra tilted her head to look up at the tall tree next to her, at the odd purple fruit hanging on it in little bunches. It explained why she couldn’t find a place like this outside. “They made their own oasis.”

Locke hummed in agreement. “It shocked me the first time too. Having such a ridiculous amount of vegetation inside like this had to have taken forever to get set up.” Jumping up he grabbed some the purple fruit off the tree. “Here, these are good to eat.” He handed her half of the bunch before eating one of the little fruit himself.

“Oh!” She smiled as the sweet and tart fruit burst on her tongue.

“Good, yea? I have never found these outside of here. Come on, let’s go spoil our lunch!” Locke laughed as he led her deeper into the green.

---

(Banon)

Frigid wind blew along the path, kicking up the soft powder snow into aggravating flurries. Banon jerked down into a hunch away from the chill, making his chocobo squawk and stagger sideways when he accidentally pulled on the reigns.

He quickly waved off Mads’ and Art’s worried looks with a quiet, “I'm fine, it was nothing.”

Banon adjusted the scarf covering the lower part of his face as they trotted to the stable on the outskirts of Narshe. Climbing off his bird, his thoughts already turned towards the warmth of a nice fire, his feet hit the ground and slid out from under him. With a desperate grasp, he steadied himself with the side of the saddle.

“Mads,” Banon called out to his second-in-command, once his feet were steady under him, then quickly handed the reigns to her. With a nod, she took all three birds in to get them settled, while Art headed to pay the stable for a day of lodging.

Once the birds were settled in, they headed towards the large, snow covered archway over the main path into the city. Like every other one of their visits to Narshe, the attached gate sat open, allowing free entry. The last time it had been closed couldn’t have been very recent, considering the large snow piles settled next to its base.

Banon pulled his coat closer, making sure his hood would keep the snow out of his hair. The entrance guards barely glanced at them, waving them through, seemingly unconcerned about who they were or why they were there.

Shaking his head at the lax security, the group turned automatically towards Arvis’ house.

They had only taken a few steps when they all slowed to a stop.

What were once such carefully laid and kept cobblestone roads, now were torn apart to nothing more than rock piles. Whole blocks of buildings leaned heavily against temporary supports. Large inky soot marks marred… everything.

“Oh… wow,” Mads breathed out as she turned her head to follow the destruction. “It looks like it continues right through the city.”

“Those look like scorch marks,” Art hissed out.

Banon nodded stiffly. “This was all definitely done by Magitek armor.”

They stood in silence, staring at the destruction for a long moment, before grimly turning back towards their normal route.

Banon sped up, just a bit, once they rounded the corner and could see the warm light from the windows of Arvis’ house. They tapped the toes of their boots on the ground, trying to knock off at least some of the snow and slush, while Banon knocked out the passcode.

Arvis jerked open the door and waved them in, with a glance around, he securely shut and locked the door safely behind them. “I was wondering when you would be by,” he said, helping them hang up their coats and clap off snow.

“A visit seemed more prudent than a messenger bird,” Banon said as he shook out his hands in the warmth.

Leading them back to the kitchen, Arvis put on a kettle. “Things have been hectic. Locke told you about what happened?”

“He told me as little as he usually does. Mostly, he just told me to talk to you,” Banon grumbled as he sat down heavily at the table, Mads and Art taking the seats on either side of him. “All I got was; three Magitek armors attacked to get the supposed esper, two died and the one left is that girl the magic rumors have been about?”

Arvis hummed in agreement as he set down the tea cups. “They cut right through the city to get to the mines. Once they made it there, something went wrong. Apparently the esper isn't as dead as we presumed, it did… Something.”

“That’s not very clear.”

“I have been asking around,” Arvis said with a sigh. “No one saw what happened. Just heard yelling, and lots of odd noise while lights flashed eerily, then it all went still. By the time anyone went to look, all that was left were three trashed armors, and the girl unconscious. The other two pilots were just… gone.”

“And you are sure she is the one from the rumors?” Banon asked. “Locke claimed he hadn't seen any proof of magic.”

“She matches the description. Green hair and violet eyes aren't exactly common.” The platter of snacks made a soft clank as Arvis set it down in the middle of the table and continued, “The only reason I got a hold of her first was someone recognized the crown and I had enough favors to call in. I didn't even get a chance to talk to her about the resistance with how fast the guards came for her.”

“So you sent her with Locke, of all people? To Figaro, of all places?” Banon asked incredulously.

“No, I had to send her out alone.” Arvis set the tea pot on the table and sat down himself. “Locke wouldn't have been my first choice, obviously, but he was here.”

“You couldn't go yourself?” Mads asked while nibbling on a cookie.

“I have been leaning into my good standing with the elder's for a while now. I fear my leeway is very close to completely wearing out. When I talked to them last, they wanted to just hand the girl back to the Empire! Said they were worried about keeping the treaties!” Arvis all but yelled as he tossed his hands into the air. “Probably would have told the Empire ‘so sorry for being in your way, here is the girl back! No hard feelings!’ It is infuriating!”

“They can’t be serious!” Mads sputtered out.

“I am beginning to fear the amount it will take to get them to realize they are wrong is… beyond what I am capable of,” Arvis lamented quietly.

“It is one thing to still want peace, but to try to keep broken treaties? It’s foolishness!” Banon said in disbelief. He took several slow deep breaths. “Without Narshe or Doma, it leaves us only relying on Figaro.”

“Wasn't someone talking to Doma?” Arvis asked as he poured Banon’s cup of tea.

Banon hummed as he wrapped his chilled fingers around the warm cup. “If the base near Doma made any progress, we have not been informed.”

Arvis paused, glanced at the grim faces, then finished pouring the tea. “We lost the base then…” he whispered.

Banon ran his fingers along the side of his eye. Apparently, he was not the only one who didn’t want to confirm as much aloud.

“Have you heard any thing new about the Empire’s movements?” Banon asked into the silence.

“Kefka was sighted in the area of Nikea, considering the timing, he very well might have had a hand in the attack here. There was also an unsubstantiated rumor about General Leo in the area last month.”

“Nothing about the other Generals? Celes, Max, Tina, or Nat?” Banon asked unhopefully.

“Nothing on my end,” Arvis said as he took a slow sip. “Well,” he breathed out, “at least the girl is away from the Empire, but now she is in Figaro. Any idea what King Edgar's play will be from here? Or Locke's for that matter?”

“Hard to say,” Banon said as he rubbed his temples. “I told Locke I wanted to talk to her as soon as possible, but I can’t think of any reason King Edgar would give up such a powerful advantage so easily. It may come down to how the girl fits into whatever Locke’s plan is.”

“You don't think they are running the same plan?” Art asked with a frown over the rim of the tea cup.

Banon shook his head. “Locke mostly presents himself as a petty thief, despite his objections to the label, but there have been some rumors with far worse accusations. What he is doing for King Edgar, and why he is doing it, are a complete unknown. He is not a man to trust closely unless you have some way of keeping him in line.”

“And we all know what happened to King Edgar’s last Chancellor,” added Arvis quietly.

“Rather not be reminded of it!” Banon quickly hissed. “At least he hasn't done anything so bloody in many years now.” Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of the concern of if the king was just biding his time. “Most likely we are going to have to wait till one of them springs whatever trap they have on the other, then deal with the consequences from there.”

“Let’s hope they don’t turn on each other until after the Empire is dealt with,” Arvis said with a sigh. “I have no idea if Locke or King Edgar winning that fight is the better outcome.”

“A domineering king, or a petty thief. Not sure there is actually a good choice there,” Mads said with an almost humorous laugh.

“I don’t know,” Art said slowly looking around at them. “They have been seemingly on the up and up. The info they pass to us has always been solid, plus none of the meeting sites have been compromised.”

“That is a point too,” Banon said softly as he sipped the last of his tea. “We are just going to have to hope King Edgar has really sided against the Empire. Even if we have to deal with a second bid for world domination from Figaro next. At least King Edgar isn't trying to reenact the War of the Magi!”

Banon stared into his empty cup and whispered, “If something does not change, and fast, we will be too worried about surviving to have any chance of victory.”

---

(Locke)

Closing the door softly behind him, Locke gave a jaunty wave to the guards posted at Terra’s door before heading around the corner. Ducking into an alcove, he pressed his hands flat against the stone wall. His breath was too heavy in his ears, even as he tried to calm it.

With a harsh breath out, he pushed back away from the alcove, and turned sharply towards the stairs. Forcing himself not to run, as the stone walls of Figaro felt like they were constricting around him, he took the stairs two at a time till he stumbled out into the open area on top of the castle. Not slowing his stride until he was leaning, gasping, over the wall looking out at the desert.

For a long moment, he just breathed, shoulders slowly unwinding, as he stood in the open air, watching as the stars popped into existence, the darkness over-taking the light.

It had been a long time since he had been more comfortable under the sun. He could still play it well enough, but he was more than aware the dark was the only place he actually belonged anymore.

He wondered what Rachel would think of him.

Think of all the things he had done.

Not even all of it was for the quest to heal her, he had long since exhausted every one of his leads on.

Locke frowned at his twitching hands, he leaned heavily forward, pressing them flat on the still sun warmed wall until they laid still.

It had been a good while since the last time Figaro had felt like a wire around his neck. He had rather got used to not feeling choked.

He ran a hand over his neck before shaking his head.

Not like there was actually even a threat, he knew he could trust Edgar, it was all just... hypothetical.

Not anything real.

It was just…

The whole situation with Terra was getting to him.

Locke had spent all day with her, and despite how he told her not to speculate on why they put that thing on her, he hadn't been able to get the question out of his own head.

Vaulting himself up the wall he quickly settled himself on top. Using his arms as a pillow, he laid down.

He looked up at the stars, and tried to shake off the pestering thoughts.

It didn’t work.

Purposefully, he did not react to the sound of soft foot falls.

It was a decent attempt at sneaking up on him. If Locke was not as good as he was, he probably would have missed the sound completely, or at least not have recognized the steps for whose they were.

Being as things were, he just stayed where he was, and huffed out a breath when the flat side of a spear point lightly thwacked down on his chest. “Oh no, I have been murdered,” Locke deadpanned without turning his head. “Whatever will I do.”

“Be a nuisance of a ghost I presume.” Pulling his spear back, Edgar sighed and set it to lean against the wall a bit away. “One day I will manage to actually sneak up on you,” he said with a huff.

“Extremely doubtful!” Locke said with a laugh. He really hoped Edgar would never manage it, he would probably stab the overly fancy jerk on accident.

“You are so mean to me,” Edgar playfully whined, pouting as he leaned against the wall and nudged Locke’s hip with his elbow.

“If I was being actually mean to you, you wouldn't be pouting about it,” Locke scoffed. It was not like stabbing Edgar would even be hard.

He hummed and looked down at Locke seriously for a long moment. Shaking his head, he turned towards the stars, paying little mind to Locke.

Edgar was a long range fighter. He could do close range if he really had to, but his specialty was spear and crossbow. His spear, he set out of arm’s reach, and as fast as he was on the draw for his crossbow, Locke was far quicker with a knife.

Especially with an exposed throat for a target.

“You spent the day with Terra, did you not?” Edgar asked softly. “How is she fairing? Any idea where she is going to land in all of this?”

“She is doing a great deal better,” Locke answered after a moment. “I showed her The Green. She was impressed with ‘Figaro’s indoor oasis’ as she was calling it. If you ask me it is a far better name than ‘The Green Room’”

“I didn’t name it, but from what I understand it was meant originally to obscure knowledge on what exactly it is.” He looked down at Locke. “And as for what side she will take?”

Locke shrugged as best as he could while laying on his arms. “She doesn’t seem to want to join back up with the Empire at least. As for her joining the resistance… well, not sure on that one.”

“I doubt she will have the option to completely move off the board,” he said softly, leaning fully on the wall by Locke.

“You want me to convince her to join us?”

Edgar sighed with a tired nod. “Offer her the option. There are only so many places she could take shelter. Here, the Returners,” he laughed a bit as he continued, “even Doma. I am not sure it will matter in the end.” He ran his hands tiredly over his face.

A weapon was a weapon wherever it was, after all.

Locke shook his head sharply, that was not what Edgar had meant.

It wasn’t.

Yet, all day it had haunted him.

Locke had a habit, or rather he made it a point, of getting into the places people didn’t want him in. To know the things they didn’t want him to know.

With the cursed crown, skills stayed intact. The ability to adapt and create a plan was nonexistent, but skills? Those weren’t touched.

Just how dangerous would a person have to be, to be considered more useful as a completely obedient tool?

Where would he, and his abilities, fall?

What amount of knowledge made someone’s person-hood forfeit?

Edgar knew exactly what Locke was capable of, and Locke knew exactly what Edgar kept locked in the deepest vaults of Figaro.

Yet, Edgar leaned unguarded right next to him.

Locke ran his finger over the knife sheathed at his shoulder.

It wouldn’t be difficult, it’d be simple and quick. The idea coiled around his thoughts; whispering from the dark spaces. With a quick flick of his wrist, he could just slide a knife between the king’s ribs and end a reign.

“Locke? Are you alright?” Edgar asked, voice soft, concerned.

“Yea,” he lied, blowing out a breath through his teeth. “Just… Why do you think they put that thing on her? Did she disobey? Or...” he trailed off.

Edgar laced his fingers together in thought. “Really, it could have been anything.” With a sigh he looked back up at the stars. “Emperor Gestahl is the kind of man who doesn’t believe in loyalty. Well, not true loyalty. He thinks obedience out of fear is the same thing.”

Locke rolled his head to the side, and looked at Edgar’s easily sliced neck.

“She may not have even done anything to set it off. Just the worry she might do something would probably be enough,” Edgar said to the stars.

“It would be kinder to have just killed her.”

Edgar closed his eyes taking a deep breath before responding, “In a lot of ways, perhaps… depending on what she was made to do…” He trailed off, then continued in barely a whisper, “At least this way she has a chance to be free again. With death… well, not much can be done after that.”

They both looked up at the stars in silence.

“Edgar…”

“Hum?” Edgar blinked down at him.

“I…” he trailed off shaking his head. “Ah… Nothing.”

“Right, I totally believe that,” Edgar scoffed. He was quiet, watching. Eventually he sighed and continued, “If I don’t hear anything from Doma by tomorrow night, I am sending you out to see what is going on.”

Locke tilted his head with a frown. “Me? Not one of the various highly trained soldiers you have?”

“No,” he said firmly.

Apparently he wasn't going to elaborate.

The Jerk.

Locke sat up. “What about Terra? You can’t keep an eye on her yourself.”

“No… but she seems to be settling well, I can keep people on her just in case, but I don’t foresee it being an issue.” Edgar watched Locke with a frown, before asking, “Do you have a problem with going to Doma?”

“Not particularly. I just don’t see why you would send me over those who…” Locke waved his hand not quite knowing how to finish the thought. Those who had sworn to Figaro’s crown? Rode under her flag? Something like that he guessed. He wasn't even sure why it was bothering him this time, it hadn’t in times before.

“You are worried about Terra then,” Edgar concluded.

Locke had no idea if Edgar was right. Was it why he felt oddly about being sent out to Doma? “Well, you know, she is very cute, and you are… well, you.” When in doubt, deflect and joke.

Edgar sputtered, “I am a gentleman!” He placed his hand over his heart. “I would never take advantage of a lady!”

“Gentleman my ass!”

“Alas, if only you were into such,” Edgar said in an overly exaggerated purr.

Locke broke out laughing. “Does that actually work on people?” He forced his face into the most ridiculous serious look he could manage. “Alas, if only you were into such,” he mocked.

Edgar huffed, and playfully shoved Locke.

Locke sucked in a breath as he lost his balance. Quickly, he dropped his leg over the inside of the wall to catch himself. Edgar’s arms wrapped around him, yanking him away from the long, multi story drop.

“Gonna have to try harder than that if you want to kill me, ya know,” Locke joked.

Edgar’s arms tightened pulling him closer to his chest, as he huffed out a relieved laugh.

“Ah.” Locke continued softer, “Besides, I keep a Cherub Down on me so I soft fall.”

He dropped his head on to Locke’s shoulder with a soft thump. “Yea, I know. Got to explain as much to my heart, however.”

They sat in silence.

Locke tilted his head back and looked up at the stars.

Edgar’s arms were warm.

People like Emperor Gestahl would call Edgar a fool for being so close to someone like Locke. Not just because of who people thought he was, but especially if they had any idea of what he actually was. People like Locke weren’t who people allowed close unless they had a loop around his neck. After all, there was always someone willing to pay a great deal for murder, the amount was always exorbitant for a king’s.

It would be so easy to just end the king’s life.

Just a flick of his wrist.

A well placed blade.

Yet, no amount of pay would ever be enough.

Locke closed his eyes as he leaned his cheek against Edgar’s head.

---

Chapter Text

Chapter 6 : Sand, and the Places it Should Not Be

(Kefka)

Sand.

Sand.

And if you looked over there! Such an amazing thing, the shocking sight of,

More!

Blasted!

Sand!

Figaro was the worst.

Too open, too dry, too… sandy.

“AHHHH,” Kefka yelled into the wind.

The wind answered by giving him a face, and mouth, full of sand.

Because of course it did.

“Phooey!” Kefka spat, trying to rid his mouth of grit. “Stupid sand! Stupid wind! Emperor Gesthal's stupid orders!” he yelled, tossing his hands in the air. “Play nice with Edgar, Kefka. We still have use for him, Kefka. Just wait a bit more, Kefka,” he quietly mocked. “Bah!” He could think of plenty of better ways to use the man.

Target practice came to mind.

Sand, sand, sand, he was covered in sand. It stuck in his ruffles and caked on his makeup. Got into everything, covered everything, made everything into sand.

There was just something so… unsettling about Figaro’s desert.

Kefka shook his head sharply, then shook the rest of him in the obviously futile attempt to rid himself of sand. “No one wants to deal with you!!” he yelled in the vague direction of the castle. “Edgar, you pinhead! Why do you have to live out in the middle of a stinking desert?” He scoffed at the soldiers who moved a bit further away from him.

Maybe there was something to putting your King-seat in such an annoying place? If nothing else, the sand made it a pain to attack.

Not like there was anything of worth in the castle itself anyway.

They should just move on South Figaro already.

Pretty, pretty South Figaro was all ready and waiting to be shattered into pretty, pretty little shards.

Kefka was going to collect one and shove it into Edgar’s pompous, arrogant, sand living eye!

No doubt Edgar had his plans in place, it was just too bad for him he had such a late start on the whole world domination thing. May have been a threat to Emperor Gestahl’s bid for control if Edgar had been a decade older.

Too late now.

Kefka laughed and laughed.

Poor baby king, no world for you!

Emperor Gestahl would win.

Oh, how he couldn't wait to watch everything

fall

and

Break.

Kefka sighed.

But, for the time being, the Emperor ordered them to wait.

He didn’t want to wait!

If Edgar did have her, well, Kefka would not stand for it.

She. Was. His.

Still, just for now, he had to play nicey nice nice.

“These recon jobs are the pits!”  Kefka yelled, scoffing as the soldiers near him jumped. Pathetic! Skittish! He frowned down at the sand, and scowled harder at the sand caked on his shoes.

He liked this outfit.

The bright colors of it.

How dare the sand mute them.

Tilting his head to look at the soldiers nearby, he cleared his throat, “Ahem! There's sand on my boots!”

Several of the fools fell over themselves while scrambling to fix the problem. “Yes, Sir! All set, Sir!”

“Idiots!” he snapped, storming in the direction of that blasted castle.

Oh how he wanted to blast that castle.

---

(Edgar)

Leaning, mostly hidden against the wall, Edgar watched as Matron made her way around the spiral fire pit, checking around indents and under seats. Once she was satisfied, she turned to finish making tea.

“How was the burning ceremony?” Edgar asked softly.

Startled, she turned his way, then huffed out a breath when she caught sight of him. “My dear Edgar, skulking about?” she reprimanded him lightly. “It was lovely as always. You could attend yourself, then you would know first hand.” With a shake of her head, she motioned him towards her favorite alcove. “Come, won’t you have tea with me?”

Edgar chuckled. The responsibilities of the High Priestess always required more tea, or at least so she always claimed. “I would, of course, be honored to spend my time with such a timeless beauty,” he said dramatically.

She scoffed as she set out the tea tray. “Enough of that, I changed your diapers.”

Edgar gasped, face red, “Must you!”

“Must you?” she countered.

He poured tea for both of them with a huff of, “Give a woman a complement.” Sitting down heavily, he cradled his cup in his hands, taking the chance to enjoy the familiar, soothing, almost sweet scent.

“Something troubles you,” Matron said, taking a sip of her drink.

“Other than the obvious?” he asked flippantly.

“Obviously.” She smiled over the rim of her tea cup. “Come now, my dear Edgar, troubles of state are never what you come to me about.”

He shook his head, with a liar’s grin. “Perhaps I merely wanted tea.”

Matron set her cup down as she looked at him for a moment. “I have long since come to ruefully accept your lack of talking to me about…” She sighed softly before continuing, “why you do such things you do.”

Edgar looked away.

“Still, you are always welcome here.” Filling his cup back up as she said gently, “and if tea is all the help you will take from me, then it will have to be enough.”

Edgar had not realized how stiff he was holding himself until he felt his shoulders loosen. “Thank you, Matron,” he whispered honestly.

He had known her his whole life, she was the closest person he had to a mother. Well, closest to one he could remember anyway. Even if he only admitted it in his own head.

Edgar would probably always expect her to turn him away one day.

He watched the shifting colors in his cup as he swirled his tea for a moment. “Coming here always helps.”

“Humm, so nothing to speak of today?” Matron smiled slightly, something almost sad in it.

“Merely worried about Locke, he was unusually quiet and morose last night.” He took a sip and a moment to appreciate the soft, sweet spice. “It is probably nothing,” he added with a sigh.

“Still you worry.”

“He is one of my people. Of course, I-”

“King Edgar!” a shout and running footsteps cut him off as a young man bolted into the room. “Sire!” he huffed out, “There's someone from,”  he gasped for breath, “the Empire to see you, sire!”  he finished.

Edgar slowly stood. “Who?”

“Not sure. I was only told they were spotted heading this way.”

Edgar nodded as he rushed off. It was only once he was looking at the group in the distance that he realized he hadn't excused himself properly. Not like it mattered, he supposed, he had done far worse over the years.

Still.

“Sire, one of them seems to be in strangely bright colors?” he trailed off uncertainly.

“Great, Kefka, no doubt!” Edgar grumbled. That man never did anything the usual way.

Why Kefka always dressed so ostentatiously was an odd curiosity. Edgar was still unsure if Kefka had actually started out as a court mage, or if it was an oddly resilient rumor the man had never bothered to refute. His clothing would have definitely been better suited for having the position of a performer.

Yet, he held a military rank.

Of some kind.

Edgar pressed his lips together as he looked over the castle wall. He would much prefer to just turn them away. Unfortunately, it was not an option.

“Sire?” General Oleen asked as she stopped next to him.

“Find Locke and Terra, make sure they have plenty of guards, but keep them out of sight. Get the civilians locked down, soldiers spread out around the castle, and make sure all of the Chocobo Knights are prepared for combat, but hidden. The castle must be on complete alert without looking like there is an ounce of extra effort anywhere.”

“Yes, Your Highness!” General Oleen saluted and rushed off.

Edgar sighed.

The day had been going so well too.

Castles were never empty, quiet, nor still. People were always rushing and yelling, everyone had things to do, and places to be. An empty, silent castle would be an obvious thing, yet having non-combatant workers around wasn’t worth the risk to lives.

Commander Shel smiled and curtsied as she walked by holding a basket of what looked like bed sheets, before rushing around the corner.

Besides, the best way to hide your forces were in places people would ignore.

After checking himself over, and fixing anything out of place with his hair or clothing, Edgar chose the area in which he would meet Kefka, and set his spear in an alcove out of sight. He ran a finger over his compact crossbow holstered at the small of his back before allowing his long coat to fall back into place, covering it. Between the crossbow and the small thief’s knife Locke insisted he have on him at all times, Edgar was never actually unarmed, even if it intentionally looked like he was.

He would still rather not have his spear out of arm’s reach, but appearances were everything in politics.

They waited.

“Sir Kefka!?” the gate guard’s voice echoed out of the entry hall, part greeting, part warning. “What in the world brings you-”

“Out of my way!”  Kefka snapped as he shoved the guard into the wall and stormed into the courtyard. “King Edgar!”

Edgar swallowed the flash of rage while forcing himself to put on his best smile and keep his attention on the threat. “Kefka! A pleasure as always!” he greeted grandly with the lie. “I hear you've been busy down south! Not surprising after taking over a country or three!”

Kefka scoffed, lip curling. “They have always been well in hand. Those… pests have nearly all been dug out of their nests and exterminated.”

“Yes, of course. I would expect nothing less from Emperor Gestahl,” he said with as much praise pushed into it as he could stomach.

People.

They were talking about people being killed.

Good people, trying desperately to stem the tide of destruction.

Edgar forced his smile to remain in place. “So, just what is the Empire up to now? I heard some odd things out of Narshe a few days ago. Magitek armor in the city?” He laughed. “You wouldn't be thinking of invading my kingdom next, would you?”  Waving a finger at Kefka in feigned playfulness, he continued, “After the trouble with Kohlingen, I am sure no one wants to go through all of that again. We have an alliance...”

The soldier on Kefka’s side scoffed and hissed out, “An alliance? With this miserable sandpit? Don't make me laugh!”

Edgar paused, his eyes sliding slowly to the person who had spoken.

Kefka’s head snapped to look at them for a moment, before dropping them with a kick to the side of the knee. He waved his hand to one of the soldiers behind them to take the soldier away. “Can’t expect much brains from these sort, they wouldn’t be able to find their own nose if you didn’t tell them where to look.”

“Ah, I understand,” Edgar said as if sympathetic. “It is ever so difficult to find competent help.” He waved off the interruption. “As I was saying; What brings Emperor Gesthal's own court mage, Kefka, to my humble castle?”

“Well you see, a girl of no importance, recently escaped from us. We heard she found refuge here,”  Kefka answered, tilting his head just a tad to far.

Edgar frowned, being sure to look confused. “A girl? Well, as much as I try to keep an eye on the girls…” He let his grin spread wide before he continued, “Well, you will have to be a bit more specific. The only rumor I have even heard about any girls from Vector was out of Narshe. I presume you have tried there?”

“They said she was there, but had already left for here,” he snapped out.

“You know,” he leaned forward lowering his voice, “The rumor I heard… well, This wouldn't have to do with that ‘witch’ everyone's been whispering about, would it?”

“Lies!”  Kefka yelled, hand flying through the air like he could bat away the topic. “She...merely stole something of… minor value,” he said, while staring unblinking at Edgar. “Is she here?”

“That's a tough one…”  Edgar said trailing off. Especially difficult since Kefka never bothered to describe Terra at any point. “Unfortunately, you see, there are more girls in here than grains of sand in the desert.”  Sweeping his hand out, he motioned beyond the castle. “A man couldn't possibly keep track of them all! Not even I!”

“I'd hate to be you if we find out you're lying…”  Kefka said with an exaggerated pout. “You know you only stand to lose from trying to hide her from us!”

“I really can’t help you. Perhaps if you gave me more information, I could keep an eye out for her?” Edgar gave the best smile he could.

He wondered if they both knew it was fake.

“Oh, Edgar…” Kefka said clicking his tongue as he turned to leave. The soldiers at his sides quickly falling into step. “I truly hope nothing happens to your precious Figaro!”  he tossed over his shoulder as they walked away.

If nothing else, Edgar was glad Kefka had little interest in playing hospitality games.

Made meetings short.

The whole castle seemed to breathe out in relief when the all clear signal went around. Edgar immediately moved over and snatched his spear out of the shadows. He doubted he was going to have it far out of reach for a very, very long time.

“I'd say that guy's missing a few buttons…”

Edgar snapped his attention to Locke as he moved out from around a corner. “Locke,” he reprimanded.

“I didn't like the sound of that…”  Locke said a bit more serious.

“Neither did I.” He hissed out a breath. “Where's Terra?”

“Here,” Terra said softly, as she stepped out into the light with her shoulders hunched and arms wrapped tightly around her middle.

Edgar paused. “Terra, are you alright?” he asked softly.

She didn’t look up, or move. When she finally responded it was only to shake her head slightly.

“Ah,” Edgar grabbed the sleeve of Locke’s coat dragging him off to the side away from her. “What were you even doing out here, you were supposed to be on lock down.”

Locke shrugged a bit sheepishly. “She wanted to see the people from the Empire. Gather information.”

Edgar rubbed his face tiredly. He couldn’t even blame her, he would probably do the same thing if he was in her position. The young woman would be a sharp one once she got all her head cogs in a line, he was sure of it. Still. “Take her to her room…”  He glanced over at her. “and… stay with her for now. I doubt being alone or out in the open is what she needs.”

Locke cringed, lowering his voice, “Yea… not sure being here did her any good. She just froze, shaking, when he started laughing.” Glancing back to Terra he continued, “Can make some… guesses there. Hope I am wrong. She is already having nightmares, I doubt this will help…”

He hummed in agreement as he watched Terra take deep controlled breaths, seemingly trying to get herself calmed down. “I still need you to head to Doma, but… it will hold for now. Stay with her tonight. I should be able to stay with her tomorrow night, if she is still shaken enough to need it.”

A slow, mischievous grin spread over Locke’s face. “Oh? and what do you plan to do to entertain a lady all night?”

Edgar glared at him. “I was thinking we could play cards,” he deadpanned.

Locke’s grin turned sharp. “Oh! I am totally teaching her how to clean out your pockets in 4 card tonight!”

Edgar sighed. He had just walked right into a trap. “You won't show me how you keep winning, but you will teach her?”

Locke just laughed at him.

“In any case,” he bit out. “I have meetings to get going, plans to finalize… Ah, I dare not hope to see my bed before the sun, wishing such might cause worse to happen. I am going to be up so late…”

“That is what you get for being born,” Locke said seriously.

“I will stab you,” he playfully threatened, as he laughed and waved his spear at him.

“You could try!” Locke cackled.

Edgar smiled, shaking his head. Turning, he walked over to Terra who was still just staring at the ground. He had hoped she would have more time to get her bearings before everything started moving under her feet. Not much luck there. Then again, maybe they should be glad she got any down time at all.

“Terra,” Edgar called softly.

After a moment, she looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. It was by far the most expression he had ever seen on her face.

“My dear Terra. You are safe here,” Edgar vowed, placing his hand on his chest. “I will make sure of it.”

She blinked at him.

Edgar smiled at her far brighter than he felt. “Ah, well, I'd love to stay and chat, but the chancellor and I must plan our strategy.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. The headache was already taking hold, and the meetings hadn't even started yet. “Being a king's not all tea and crumpets. If you'll excuse me…” He dipped his head to them before hurrying off.

The only upside to things turning officially to war was it would be a relief not to have to continue playing happy dictators with Emperor Gestahl.

---

(Terra)

Afternoon sunlight streamed into the room casting everything in a pleasant warmth. Terra wasn't sure when her hands had stopped shaking, or when her shoulders had unwound. When the chill, which had threatened to freeze her solid, started to seem so far away.

She tilted her head at the cards in her hands, none of them looked like ones she could use. Taking a sip of her drink she tried to reorder them to make a play materialize before her eyes.

She still had no ideas.

“I don’t think I can play any of these?” Terra said slowly.

Locke set down his own cards and motioned towards her. “Ok, show me what you got.” Once he had looked through them he nodded. “Ah, yea you are in a bit of trouble, but you still have plays, here, look-”

Terra watched his mischievous grin spread wide, as he carefully explained an extremely complicated play used to create a trap for the other players to trigger. Then explained how to identify it when others use it, and how to disarm it or if playing with more than two people how to aim it at another player.

With a nod of understanding, she played the first card of the maneuver.

Locke grinned at her. “We will have you wrecking Edgar in this game in no time! He will be so upset.”

“I don’t understand. Why do you want to make the King angry?”

“What is a king, but some guy who happens to have a far too fancy of a hat?” he laughingly replied.

“I think there is more to it than a hat,” she said sharper than she meant to.

Locke set his cards back down, and looked over to her. “There is always more to it.” He pushed off the bandannas from his head, and ran his fingers through his pale brown hair for a moment. “Look, it isn't about him being a king, it is about him being Edgar. It is good for him to remember he ain't infallible.”

“Good for him…” she murmured as she played her next card. The whole thing was far to confusing.

“Yea.” He set down two cards together with a grin, blocking her play. “If you ask me, when you get rulers too up in their own propaganda, is when you get people like Gestahl.”

Terra’s hands twitched around her cards, as a chill ran down her spine at the name. “The man today.” She swallowed. “Kefka? He is…”

“Do you remember him?”

“I don’t know… I think he…” shaking her head, she trailed off not wanting to say it out loud.

He was the one she remembered putting that thing on her.

A laugh that echoed in her head. The pain of ice cold restraints. So many other things she just couldn’t catch, as they drifted through the uncertainly of her mind.

Things lurking, waiting to attack from the lingering chill of her memories.

Shaking her head sharply, she hissed out through gritted teeth, “I don’t want to think about him!”

“Don’t blame you,” Locke said, voice soft he leaned forward trying to catch her eye. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”

Terra sucked in a shuddering breath as she looked up at him.

“We can keep playing cards, could show you all the best tricks. Then once you got those down I can show you how to…” Locke trailed off for a moment, grin sharp, “cheat.”

Terra huffed out a laugh as she nodded.

It would be nice to not be alone, at least for tonight.

---

(Arvis)

Narshe’s Elder council was made up of those who were, supposedly, the most respected, experienced, and knowledgeable in the city. When it was originally set up, it was decided to have five positions available. Two seats for politicians, two for military, and the High Elder seat for someone from the city who was caring and wise.

It was, many had argued, perhaps a bit too unspecific for continued use. Yet, in the couple hundred years since the decision had been made, it had never been changed.

Arvis had been a high contender to eventually take over one of the military seats. There had been many times since his early retirement he had regretted stepping off the path to the council.

Never so much as he had in the past few days however.

“Treaties or not, it doesn’t change that they sent those armors into the city!” Arvis argued for what felt like the hundredth time.

High Elder Treas shook his head from his plush chair across from Arvis. “We have already been in talks with the Empire about it. It was a misunderstanding.”

He couldn’t help but rub his head, the frustration was getting to him. A nice cup of tea would help. Unfortunately Elder Treas wasn’t much of a tea drinker, and it was his sitting room they were arguing in.

“People are dead,” Arvis enunciated softly.

Elder Dacket hummed in agreement from where he stood by the fireplace. “It was a costly misunderstanding.” His face grim, shoulders straight, as he watched the flickering flame.

Arvis scoffed. “You don’t just send military personal by mistake!”

Dacket didn’t respond, a deep scowl etched across his face.

Arvis couldn’t help but think there was agreement in the scowl.

“Miscommunications happen,” High Elder Treas said, obviously not having the same reservations about how these kinds of things could accidentally be done. “and you are still in question for what you did with the girl.”

Arvis gritted his teeth. “She-”

“If you had just stayed out of it,” Treas snapped, cutting Arvis off. “We would have been able to smooth over the whole thing by now!” he finished sharply. Shifting slightly in his chair, he obviously forced himself to relax, before continuing, “But, what is done is done. It will take a bit longer than we would have liked, but everything will be worked out soon. Our main concern is to keep the peace. The Empire has no reason to intentionally break treaties. What would they even get out of it?”

“What would…?” Arvis huffed out a surprised breath. “People like Emperor Gestahl don’t stop.” He leaned forward to look directly at Treas, practically begging him to listen. “The Empire war machine is coming, and it will keep coming, no matter what some papers say. If we continue to just sit here, it will eventually run us over.”

The High Elder just scoffed as he looked away. “Don't be so dramatic.”

Arvis pushed himself to his feet. They were getting no where this way. “Please, just think about it,” he implored.

“Your concerns have been noted,” Treas replied dismissively.

“High Elder Treas, Elder Dacket.” Arvis nodded his head at each in turn. “May you realize the frost before all the flowers are gone,” he said tightly as he turned to leave.

Arvis barely managed to keep himself from slamming the door on his way out.

Stopping a block away, he leaned against a wall, huffing frosted breath through grit teeth. How could they be so short sighted?

Joyful shouts, and the crunch of snow under young feet, were all the warning he got before a group of kids burst into the area. One of the little boys slipped on the ice and slid into a snow bank, his friends laughing at him.

The boy jumped up out of the snow with a roar, and smacked one of the laughing children in the face with a snowball. All the kids started yelling again as they dove towards snow banks to arm themselves.

The path was soon filled with thrown snow and joyful yelling.

Arvis watched, until the fight had migrated out of sight. With a huff, he stood back up straight, and continued on his way home.

Despite the rebuilding teams still having places to finish, things were going back to what would be called normal. People walked beside him and around him as they traversed the roads going about their day, laughing, happy.

The city was calm.

He could understand wanting to keep this.

But it was nothing but a false peace.

The scorch marks and blood could be cleaned, the damage to buildings fixed. Claims could be falsely made about the Empire not meaning to attack, about them being sorry. The whole thing could be swept away, cleaned like the mudroom after a storm.

Except.

It didn’t change the pain of the families torn apart by the deaths.

There was no cleaning away the ache of loss.

---

(Locke)

Standing, Locke stretched his arms over his head. They had been playing cards for hours, and the worst thing had eventually happened.

They ran out of snacks.

Completely unacceptable.

“Will you be alright here for a bit while I go replenish our snack reserves?” He glanced out the rather dark window. “Oh, and pick up dinner too. Any requests?”

Terra blinked up at him.

“Unless you want to come with me?”

She shook her head then paused. “Could you get some of those little orange and blue berries from the Green?”

“You got it! I will be right back!” Slipping out the door he waved to the guards standing around being mostly bored.

Once Locke got out of sight, he let his grin drop.

Food was not the task he had to leave to do. As important as a good snack stash was to all night gaming, the guards would have brought anything he asked for.

It wasn't why he left.

No, it was the creeping feeling of wrong, which would not leave him alone.

Slowing his steps, he looked out into the sand from the over walk. There were lights indicating a good size camp out in the desert.

Kefka had not left, or rather, had not gone far.

As tempted as Locke was to stealth over and just take care of the problem, he doubted it would work out well for him.

His paranoia had saved him far too many times to start ignoring it now. Especially when his little feather relic was seemingly warning against it, making him… itch. Something about the Figaro desert, the more time he spent in it the stronger the feeling seemed to be when it kicked in.

The Empire had all sorts of weird things. Between the extremely rare relics they had amassed and whatever Magitek they had made, there was always a possibility the camp was bait.

A mirage or something.

The itching was getting worse.

Locke carefully pulled out the tiny feather he kept on a cord around his neck. “Ok, ok,” he grumbled as he ran his fingers gently along the fluff at the base. The feather warm and slightly glowing as always. “I get it, cut it out.”

It shimmered in the dim light, the itching didn’t leave.

Talking to inanimate objects, even some old relic of a fenix feather, was unsurprisingly still ineffective. It was supposed to help him find the thing he needed to save Rachel, not be a nuisance about danger.

Would have been nice if the old man had given Locke any further description of what he was looking for. Or maybe even any idea of where it went! He just said the feather and the relic would both start brightly glowing when they got close together.

Locke tucked the feather back out of sight with a huffed out breath.

No point being upset, it wouldn't help him find the thing.

Plus, it wasn't his task at the moment. His main concern was to keep Terra safely out of Empire hands.

With one last glance at the camp in the distance, he turned back towards his path to the chocobo stable.

“Kweh!” the loud chirp of the Best Bird met him just inside.

Locke patted her on the beak. “Sorry, Beautiful, you are a bit too flashy for this.”

She drooped. “Kw… eh…”

Locke moved on after a last pat to her beak. Waving a hand, he called out to one of the stable workers, “Hey, things are looking sketchy. Edgar given you any orders on prep yet?”

“Not yet,” the young man said as he walked over. “You got orders?”

Locke grinned and rocked on his heals. “Sure, let’s go with that!”

“And what would these imaginary orders be?” the head of the stable asked as she walked out from the back.

Locke put his hand over his heart. “I am crushed, completely crushed, that you would ever think I would fabricate such a thing!”

“Um hum, right.” She crossed her arms. “Out with it.”

“Eh, need two birds…” Locke paused reconsidering. “Wait… double to four just to be safe, they need to be ready immediately, in case Terra and I need to run.”

“You planning on needing to run tonight?” she asked sternly, with a frown.

“Best to plan early and not need it till later, than the other way around. I really don’t like how Kefka didn’t go far and just… camped out.”

“He didn’t leave!?” the boy yelped, “I thought he left!”

The stable head hummed for a moment, looking over the birds. “Alright we will prep you four birds, and keep them rolling so they will always be fresh.” As she crossed her arms, she looked right at Locke with a stubborn look. “but I am also running it by King Edgar.”

“Fair enough!” he said with a laugh. Turning he headed back over to Beautiful, gave her some greens he had palmed when no one was looking, then headed out.

He had barely made it into the sand when someone called out to him sharply, “Locke!”

Pausing, he turned towards Codwin, who was storming over. “Oh wow! Whatever it was it wasn't me this time!” Locke said quickly. “Been on my best behavior all hour!”

Codwin’s steps faltered for a second before he shook his head. “For my own sanity I am ignoring that.” With a glance around he came to a stop next to Locke. “Things have gotten… well,” he trailed off as he glanced off towards the camp in the distance. “Everything will be moving very fast, very soon.”

“Noticed. Is there a point, in here?” Locke asked when he did not continue.

“King Edgar is a…” Codwin sighed as he trailed off shaking his head.

“Makes me really curious what you decided not to call him,” Locke said, grinning.

“Locke,” he said harshly. “This is not the time. My point is; as tempting as the camp is, leave it alone.”

“And you are telling me this why?” Locke said carefully.

“I know you have a tendency to act on your own…” Codwin looked at him evenly while sighing. “judgment, but if Figaro is even thought to be the aggressor toward the Empire, it would cause… issues with the safety of South Figaro and Kohlingen, in addition to causing trouble with long term winning of allies later,” he finished softly.

“Alright…” Locke said slowly. Not the reason he had decided against attacking the camp, but… “Oh! since you are here will you go confirm what I told the stable hands?”

“What did you do?” Codwin demanded, as he straightened while looking more than just a bit worried.

“You are so distrusting!” Locke laughed out. “I just told them to keep some birds ready to run just in case.”

Codwin raised and eyebrow and looked back towards the stable. “Ah, that is a good idea.” he admitted softly.

“Well yea, because it was mine,” Locke joked.

“I will talk to them. I will get traveling supplies squared away too,” the chancellor replied distractedly.

“Alright then!” Walking backwards he continued, “I am going to head off to the main dining hall now, if there is nothing else you wanted to yell at me about.”

Codwin just looked at him with a shake of his head. “I hope whatever you did doesn’t end up becoming my problem.”

“Always does!” he yelled before turning and sprinting off.

“Locke!” Codwin yelled after him.

Let the guy worry about what Locke had gotten up to, give him a break from worrying about war.

After all, Codwin was a good guy, he deserved it.

“Locke! Get back here!”

Locke laughed as he ran faster.

---

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Ash to Flame, It Burns Away

(Edgar)

Steps heavy, Edgar finally rounded the corner to his personal rooms. Pausing, and leaning against his spear, he glanced towards one of the sitting rooms and its nice, plush, couch. With a sigh, he straightened and continued down the long hallway, swaying more than he would ever admit.

Waving off the guards, he closed the door to his bedroom softly behind him. He rested his weight against it, taking a moment to be thankful the meetings had ended before the sky had lightened. With a grumbled sigh, he shrugged out of his day coat and even mostly got it hung up on the hanger.

The expected timeline extrapolated at least a couple of weeks before the Empire would openly move to attack the weakest point in his country, South Figaro. He and his council would need to go over every thing further in the coming days, but for now they should be ready.

It was best to be prepared early, than be caught out late.

Edgar shook his head, trying to clear the headache inducing thoughts, but only succeeded in making his vision spin.

Stumbling on clumsy feet, he barely caught himself on the nightstand as he placed his spear and crossbow by the bed. He then turned his attention to blearily yanking off his boots and kicking off his pants.

With a heavy breath, he looked down at how much of his day clothing he managed to get off and called it good enough.

He face planted into bed, ignored the hair clips as they dug into the side of his head, and let himself drift off.

. . .

Edgar jerked awake.

Slipping a hand under his pillow, he grabbed his knife. Yanking it free as he rolled himself to his feet, eyes darting around the still and silent room.

Nothing seemed different, and yet…

Something was… wrong.

“...? What in the-”  he whispered to himself. Keeping his eyes scanning the open areas, he stepped back to the nightstand, strapped his crossbow to his back, and traded the small knife for his spear.

He couldn’t place it, but something in the air felt… off.

“Sire!” a voice yelled from the hallway. “Sire! Wake up! Sire!”

Edgar grabbed his coat and tossed it on as he rushed to the door, jerking it open. “I am awake! What's going on?!”  he asked, as he shoved his feet into his boots.

“Sire, It's the Empire! Kefka, he-”  one of the guards stuttered, “the castle is on fire, Sire!”

“What?!” Edgar yelled as he bolted out the door. Motioning to one of the guards he commanded, “Get Locke and Terra ready to go.”

The woman bowed before changing direction and sprinting away.

“How bad is it?” Edgar asked.

“As far as I know it is just the main courtyard, it hasn’t gotten down into the interior.”

“Keep it that way!” As they rushed around a corner, his feet slid in the poorly tied boots. He tossed an arm out, barely catching his balance. “How did they even get in?”

“We don’t know, Sire.”

“We don’t-” Edgar shook his head sharply, his grip tightening on his spear. “Get everyone not on protection detail or putting out fires locked down! We may need to move!”

“Yes Sire!” several said as they broke away from the group to do as ordered.

Edgar rounded the corner into the courtyard and ran face first into a wall of smoke. Coughing in the suffocating sting, he rushed forward. Ignoring the low viability, and the two small soldiers who were nonsensically chanting ‘fire’ and giggling as flames licked up his castle’s walls, he continued towards where he could hear that man’s infernal laughing. His steps faltered.

There, through the smoke, Kefka spun, arms and grin stretched wide. His once brightly colored clothing, of far too many fabrics and frills, was now streaked wildly with soot and ash. Thick smoke swirled around him like a dance partner as he laughed in infuriating delight. “Ed~gar!” he called out in a sing-song voice. “Get your pretty prissy self out here!”

“Kefka! What do you think you're doing!?”  Edgar snapped, as he stormed over, spear twitching up before he stiffly forced the point towards the ground.

The man finished his spin to face him with a grandly sarcastic bow. “Oh! If it isn’t the Kingy King Edgar! Fantastic!” Running his eyes over him, Kefka smirked. “Oh! I am touched! You took the time to do your hair before seeing me!” Folded hands tucked up under his chin framed his face as he batted his eyes. “Even as your precious Figaro, B U R N S,” he finished, his voice slow and giddy. Tossing his head back, he cackled.

Edgar gritted his teeth. “Kefka, the treaty-”

“Treaty!? Well then!” His grin widened, splitting across his face as he continued to laugh. “If you care so much about it! Then bring me the girl!”  he snarled. “Now!”

“I told you before! I have no idea what you're talking about!”

Kefka tilted his head with a soft, “Oh?” Starring at Edgar unblinking, he pouted. In a sudden rush of motion, he threw his arms wide with an exclaimed, “Then..welcome to my barbecue!! Do enjoy yourself! Uwa ha ha ha!”

“You dare burn my castle over some random girl!” Edgar yelled, hand twitching around his spear. It would be so much easier if he could just stab the man.

He really needed to get Kefka and the rest of the empire’s people out of his castle.

Perhaps the right bait…

Edgar whistled to one of his people as he backed up, being sure to keep the still wildly laughing Kefka in sight. “Get ready...!”  he commanded softly, motioning with three fingers.

The man bowed with a, “Yes, sire!”  before sprinting off.

“Oh! Had a change of heart, did you?” Kefka asked, as he sauntered over, giggling gratingly. “I am sure we can over look this whole thing. No reason to make enemies!” he added sarcastically.

Edgar huffed out an incredulous laugh. “I am the King. I must do what is best for my people.” Carefully, he moved over to lean against the low wall so he could see the sand next to the castle.

He needed to buy time.

Kefka sputtered out a baffled, “Best for-” With a scoff he slashed his hand through the air, as if slapping at an annoying bug. “Whatever! Who cares! You have no choice! Give me back the girl! She. Is. Mine!”

Edgar pitched his voice into fake sympathy, “Such preoccupation with one person, seems a bit much. One who stole something of minor value, at that.”

The laugh Kefka let out seemed almost more unhinged than any of the previous ones. “Never mind that! Give her over! Now!” The sharpness in his eyes belied the wide grin. “Unless you are enjoying the heat? You do live in a desert.” Mockingly, he tapped his chin. “Don’t you Figaros have a thing about burnings? I could always make it hotter for you.” He paused, slowly raising his hand into the air. “If you would like.”

“Seeing as I would prefer my castle unscorched. It seems I have no choice…” Edgar shifted, taking a quick look over the wall, his shoulders loosing when he caught sight of recognizable yellow in the sand below. “...Or perhaps I do!”  Vaulting over the wall with a whistle, the chocobos fluttered up and caught him.

“Oh! My!”  Kefka sputtered as he rushed forward to the wall. “There you go! Fleeing! Are you?” he yelled down at Edgar. Straightening up he continued in a mock of courtly diction, “The brave and noble king abandons his people to save his own skin! How utterly delightful!”  He tossed his head back and laughed.

Edgar shook his head at the accusation before sharply banking right to pass under where Locke and Terra were standing on the over walk. “Jump!” he ordered.

Locke vaulted over immediately, Terra barely hesitated before doing the same. The two chocobo caught them easily and quickly moved back into formation behind Edgar.

Kefka’s wordless scream of rage was all the warning they had before he ran, screeching, out the front gate. “Edgar! No! You get back here! Give me back the girl!”

“Oh Kefka! Did you really think I would let you take her back?” Edgar taunted.

“She is Mine! MINE! MINE!!!” Kefka yelled, waving his arms randomly as he ran down the stairs and into the sand. “Get them! Get her back!” he ordered the Empire Soldiers rushing out of the castle behind him.

Edgar narrowed his eyes as the soldiers scrambled towards them in their rush to obey. Finally they were all far enough from the steps. “OK! Dive now!!!”

Kefka jerked his head around to look at the castle as it made a sudden loud humming noise. “What the?” Staggering in the shifting sand, he backed away. “Edgar!” he screeched. The loud clang of a metal shutter slamming down over the front gate made him jump, slide on the sand, and land pathetically on his back. “What did you do!”

The mechanical hum grew louder. As the towers began to pull in towards the central part, Kefka crab walked away from the castle with wordless, unintelligible, screaming.

Shouts of, “Bravo, Figaro!” called out from all over the castle.

“Bravo, Figaro!!!”  Edgar cheered back.

“No one can touch the people of Figaro!”  Codwin yelled, before he turned on his heel, making it inside just as the last shutter slammed closed behind him.

Figaro Castle hummed, the sand shifting and dancing at it’s behest as it sunk beneath the desert. Dunes in large waves raised up to fall over the castle walls, snuffing out the flames in their wake. Soon, even the tallest towers were being pulled down and out of sight.

Where Figaro once stood was seemingly nothing but wide open sand.

“Yahoooo!”  Locke yelled in joy as they turned the chocobos away from the castle and picked up speed. “Oh, wow, that was great! Seeing the whole place sink was way better than I expected!”

“Of course, you know about the top secret features of my castle,” Edgar said with an amused sigh. Information was obviously the shiniest of treasures. At this point he just expected Locke to have gotten into every bit of Figaro’s business.

“Son of a sandworm! You'll pay for this!”  Kefka screeched as he tried to crawl out from the pile of sand he ended up under. Two Magitek armors scrambled over to Kefka and tried to dig the man out with clumsy clawed arms.

Edgar frowned. Where had those come from? How had he missed seeing those armors?

“What are you doing!?” Kefka screamed, making the soldiers all snap to attention. “Well! Go!! Kill them!”  he ordered. “Bring me the girl!” The armors immediately turned to follow the chocobos. The foot soldiers scrambled to do the same, but mostly they slid and fell back down into the sand. “Useless!” Kefka yelled repeatedly, as he kicked the ones closest to him.

Edgar hissed out a breath as the armors quickly gained on them. They wouldn’t be having this problem, if one of the engineers hadn't helped design them to be able to handle sand.

Like a fool.

They were going to have to turn and fight.

“Locke,” Edgar called out stowing his spear. “Try to draw their attention, and attack with lightning skeans where you can. Terra, trust the bird!”

“Oh! Yay! My favorite! Playing bait!” Locke replied sarcastically, as he palmed through his pouch, quickly pulling out a few items. “You have the worst ideas,” he said flatly.

Ignoring Locke, Edgar called out, “We are turning!” With a sharp series of clicks, he yanked his chocobo around, the other two turning with him to face the armors.

Locke moved forward immediately tossing a skean and pulling the attention of both soldiers.

Edgar kept back, quickly scanning over the gears, plates, and joints. Yanking out his crossbow he fired two bolts into the weak point of one of the legs.

One of the armors rounded on Edgar, a part in the front glowed, shooting a bright red beam out towards him.

Edgar ducked, his chocobo jumping to the side barely dodging the blast.

He sucked in a breath as he glanced at the fresh scorch mark in the sand. Whatever those things were armed with, it hadn't been on any of the schematics he had ever seen.

Locke flicked his arm out, tossing the skean at the same place the crossbow bolts had hit.

As the lightning ran along armor, the pilot jerk the controls and stumbled. They snarled and fired a blast of red light towards Locke.

Locke and his bird spun out of the way. “Ha! Missed!” he taunted while readying another item.

Terra took a deep breath, slowly raised her hand up to her chest and closed her eyes.

Edgar opened his mouth to call out to her, instead, he choked on his words.

Her fingers were glowing bright red.

Terra snapped her eyes open and thrust her hand in the direction of the Empire Soldiers. Fire crackled from her hand and slammed into both of the armors.

Edgar jerked his chocobo to the side.

That was magic.

The chocobo squawked in indignation.

Actual magic.

Locke glanced over with a frown. “What's the matter, Edgar? What made you jump like that all of a sudden? You look positively spooked!”

“D-d-did y-y-you just see what I saw?” Edgar stuttered, hand motioning to Terra. “You did, right? Right!?”

“Huh?” Locke looked between Edgar and Terra. “Yeah, this kid's really something, huh?”  he said slowly.

“Really...something!?”  Edgar tossed his hand out. “She's amazing! That was magic! Real MA-GIC!”

“M-M-M-M-MAGIC!? That wasn’t an item?! She used magic!?”

“Kweh!” Locke’s chocobo squawked angrily as he barely managed to jump out of the way when a red blast went right by his head.

“Ah! Maybe we should talk about this later!?” Locke yelled pulling out another Skean.

“Right,” Edgar agreed as he took another shot at the leg, Locke’s skean shattering against the joint right after the crossbow bolts.

Loud grinding of broken gears made the pilot jerk the controls, over compensating for the broken leg, the armor lost balance and toppled into the other one.

With a loud crash, and a great deal of flying sand, both armors hit the ground hard in a tangle of mechanized parts.

“That was surprisingly uncoordinated for trained pilots,” Edgar said slowly, as he blinked in shock.

“Don’t care!” Locke yelled as he turned his bird. “Lets take the win where we can get it and book it!”

Edgar couldn’t disagree.

With a whistled call for the birds to form up, they retreated. Judging by how the armors fell, he doubted they would be functional for a good while.

Still, best to get as far away as possible and trust the desert to cover their trail.

---

(Terra)

The beauty of the sun as it crested over the horizon did little to calm Terra’s nerves. Locke and King Edgar rode in front of her, talking to each other too quiet for her to make out, as they rushed further from…

She shook her head, trying to clear out the memory of armors and fire.

Of Armors being on fire.

It didn’t work.

Worse, she couldn’t even remember why it had unnerved her so much.

“Were those bad people?”  she asked, tightening her hands around the chocobo’s reins.

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, but she was so unclear on what had happened. Between the smoke and distance she wasn't sure if she had actually seen… “I… I'm scared…”  she whispered to her shaking hands.

King Edgar and Locke glanced at each other before dropping back.

“They were people from the Empire,” King Edgar said, as he settled his chocobo beside hers. “So, a lot of people would call them such.”

“Yet, you were allies?”

“Yes.” Breathing out a heavy breath, he was quiet for a moment. “Sometimes, the only choices available are… unforgivable,” he trailed off, weary gaze turned away.

“It was the man from before?” Terra tried to push down her unease, but she still stuttered when she said his name, “K-Kefka?”

“Yes,” The King said grimly. “He seems extremely insistent on getting you back.”

They rode in silence for a short while.

“Terra,” King Edgar said, turning back to her. “What...what exactly was that just now? The fire?”

“I'm sorry, I…” Frowning she looked down. “I thought you knew about…” she trailed off, running her fingers through the soft feathers of the chocobo she was riding.

Locke leaned over to try to catch her eye. “Hey no, you are right. We should be apologizing.”

Terra tilted her head to look over at him.

“I didn't mean to make such a big deal out of it,”  Locke continued.

“Nor did I,”  King Edgar added.

“We knew what everyone was saying.” Locke shook his head, giving her a wry grin. “I guess we still didn’t really understand what to expect.” With a shrug he softly said, “Sorry.”

“Indeed, it just… surprised me,” King Edgar admitted. “I mean, I've never actually seen magic before! The descriptions in books really do not convey the reality of it. Where did you learn… ?”  He snapped his mouth shut.

Terra just turned and looked at him blankly. “I haven't the foggiest!” she huffed out a bit annoyed. Did he really expect her to have an answer?

Locke laughed so hard he almost fell off his bird. “Oh man Edgar, you’re really asking the solid questions now!”

“Locke.”

“Yes, my Lord?” he responded sarcastically.

“Shut up.” King Edgar grumbled out obviously trying to look annoyed. It didn’t really work, as his expression softened to a smile, while Locke continued to laugh at him. The King shook his head before shifting his focus back to Terra. “Anyway, about what happened in Narshe. It seems that esper reacted to your magical powers. If so, then there's got to be a relationship…”   he trailed off in thought.

“I don't know any more than you do,” Terra said softly, as she pulled fire into her open hand. She watched as the flame danced calmly around her fingers. “These powers just come naturally to me.”

“But people d-don’t have- No human, is born with the powers you have!”  King Edgar sputtered as he flinched back.

Then what did that make her?

Terra hadn’t realized how hard she pulled the reins until the chocobo squawked angrily and stopped abruptly.

They were all silent, as Locke looped slowly back to Terra. His eyes wide and lips pressed tight as he stopped by her side.

King Edgar closed his eyes as he slowed his bird. With a deep breath he turned around and approached her. “Forgive me. My words were… more than ill chosen,” he said solemnly.

Terra glanced to Locke, before looking back to King Edgar. “If I’m…” She turned away with a shake of her head.

“It doesn't matter, does it, Edgar?”  Locke cut through the silence softly. “Terra can use magic and we can't. That's all there is to it. Plus the fact is......we could use her help!” Looking over to her he continued, “well, I mean, if you are willing?”

“I…” She frowned down at her hands. “...What should I do?” she asked. Everything was so much, too much. A part of her just wanted it to be easy, to just be told what to do.

“Terra, there's someone we'd like you to meet…”  King Edgar hesitated before seeming to change what he was going to say. “After the trouble back there, the Empire will be coming after us. More to the point, I'm sure the Empire is going to come after you… no matter where you go,” he said almost gently. “They want your powers for their own. If they get their hands on you again.”  Blowing out a breath he looked off into the distance. “If they were to manage it, I fear the world's finished…”  With a shake of his head he turned back towards her. “Terra, you want to understand your own powers, don't you?”

Terra hesitated, before nodding.

“Then I think you should meet with Banon,”  the king said with a sharp nod. “He may be able to help you find out more about why you have them.”

“Like I told you before,” Locke added, “we're members of the Returners… he is the leader.”

“He also grew up in the area the Empire now rules. If anyone has more information about you and your powers it would be him.” King Edgar looked at her seriously. “Would you be willing to meet our leader? Banon, would certainly like to meet you.”  Pressing his lips together, he continued in a lower tone, “The way things are looking, it seems magic is going to be the key to winning this war.”

“Magic…” How come it always felt like her powers were the only thing people cared about.

“I know everything is a lot, but, please... Edgar's right,”  Locke said leaning forward. “I have to go talk to Banon anyway, you might as well come with me. Then you can figure out what you want to do from there.”

Terra wasn't sure there were any better options.

Oh, how she wanted a better option.

Or any other option.

Terra nodded anyway.

“There's a cave just south of here that leads to South Figaro. Let's head in that direction.”  The King’s smile seemed a bit strained, and a lot exhausted, as he led them towards the mountains in the distance.

---

(Locke)

Locke sighed for the millionth time as he looked towards the still far too distant mountains. The path they were taking to the South Figaro cave was definitely the long, indirect way. It was obviously chosen with the hope anyone trying to follow would presume they were going to a different location.

It was horribly annoying.

The worst part was… well… he was bored.

And he was more than willing to make it everyone else’s problem.

“Hey Edgar,” Locke said slowly, letting his grin stretch just as slow.

“Whatever it is Locke, no,” Edgar said warily, as he straightened in his saddle.

“Aww come on! I deserve a treat!” Locke complained. “Not only have I refrained from saying anything about your-” he paused and looked obviously over Edgar, “-clothing,”

“Damn it Locke, I was asleep,” Edgar muttered.

“Or your poor hair,”

“Locke,” he snapped.

“I even managed to keep myself from yelling, ‘woOoOoOow foot in mouth’ during the whole, entire, conversation earlier!” Locke boasted playfully.

“You would consider such things the highest of accomplishments,” Edgar deadpanned, while looking at him flatly.

“Exactly! I mean do you even have socks on? And aren't those leggings meant to be under- epp!” Locke quickly yanked his bird to the side as Edgar tried to grab him. “No one appreciates my self control!” he lamented as he urged his chocobo to speed up, and away from Edgar.

“Get back here you!” Edgar yelled, as he maneuvered to chase after Locke.

Locke smiled as Terra giggled softly.

Success!

Locke laughed as he zig-zagged his bird around the sand dunes.

He was sure it wouldn't be long before Edgar caught him. How long was mostly down to the amount of time it took to dawn on Edgar he could use his kingly over ride orders on the chocobo.

“Lousy! Ridiculous! AHH!” Edgar yelled as Locke dropped back and looped around Terra. “Get back here!”

Locke stuck his tongue out. “Aww, are you not used to being dressed in so little clothing, and having… performance issues?” he taunted.

“Locke! How dare you insinuate such things!” Edgar gasped as his jaw dropped. “I always get high ratings in all my skills!” he insisted, with an arrogant smirk.

“Right, so you say! Yet, here you are being unable to get me off… my bird.”

Edgar tilted his head as he pressed his lips together as he purred out an, “Mmm, well…”

Locke huffed out a laugh as he glanced over to Terra. She just seemed to be completely baffled, so nothing unusual there he supposed.

“Ha!”

Locke let out a shocked, “Really?!” as he was full on tackled off his bird by Edgar.

They landed with an oof and an ouch, as they rolled in the sand.

Once they stopped, Locke huffed out a breath. “While we were moving!?”

Edgar rolled onto his back sprawled out on the sand. Turning his head he looked Locke in the eye. “I may have been over confident in the maneuver,” he said evenly.

“Kweh?!” the chocobos chirped in what may have been concern, or annoyance.

Terra giggled at them with a soft smile. “That was silly.”

Locke grinned up at her.

Dang she was cute.

“Are we going to continue?” She blinked down at them for a moment before asking, “You aren't actually hurt, are you?”

Locke shook his head before glancing over at Edgar whose tongue rested on his lip. They were in agreement about her cuteness then. “Come on, fancy no pants, lets go.”

“Really, Locke,” he sighed out, as he let his head thump back against the sand.

Locke laughed. Edgar was so dramatic.

Once they got settled back on their chocobos, they headed off again towards the cave.

Locke grinned, a happy buzz in his chest. Messing with Edgar was one of his favorite pass times.

Though, now his shoulder ached where he landed on it. He would drink a potion but, it really wasn't bad and no one had a chance to count supplies yet.

Locke could handle a bruise.

Edgar seemed fine at least. If he had been hurt, little things like inventory concerns wouldn't have crossed his mind, he would have just used a potion. Which was unfair since it was Edgar’s brilliant move which left Locke’s shoulder sore.

As much as Edgar tried to understand the commoners he was in control of, he was still so out of touch. Those silly, pretty, little adornments in Edgar’s hair alone were worth a fortune.

Locke had thought more than once how he could just palm one of those shiny, jewel covered, clips and probably have enough to go buy a nice little house somewhere.

He blew out a breath.

Edgar was a walking target for anyone looking to make some quick cash. The funniest part was since he was only with Terra and Locke, he looked like an easy mark, but also, a rather unimportant one.

Guess no one really looked like a king without a crown and an escort.

Which was also probably why the military camp near the cave to South Figaro all pulled into a ready formation as they rode up.

“Stand down!” Edgar ordered.

“Oh!” The captain straightened waving his hand to the other soldiers to do as ordered. “King Edgar!” he said, obviously surprised. Moving forward, he looked Edgar over with more than a bit of confusion and a whole lot of alarm.

Locke understood. Edgar being so far from put together in his clothing would be a shock even with out the dark layer of soot.

“What brings you here, sire?” the captain eventually asked.

“Kefka, in the name of the Empire, attacked Figaro shortly before sunrise,” Edgar said tightly as he hopped off his chocobo.

Locke scanned his eyes over the soldiers as gasps and murmurs passed through the group. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, so he tilted his head at Terra and slid to the ground. Terra’s boots hit the dirt shortly after.

“I see,” the captain said slowly with a tight nod. “How bad is it, sire?”

“Minor fire damage, as far as I could tell when we left. Nothing which couldn’t be easily put out and simple repairs fix,” Edgar reassured.

“Due to the attack, this position will need to be reorganized. I need a group to head to South Figaro immediately to begin war preparations. There should be reinforcements arriving from Figaro shortly, but in the meantime this location will likely be dangerous, so shift to stealth maneuvers.”

“Yes, sire!”

Edgar waved the group off in dismissal. Everyone but the captain, immediately bowed and moved off to presumably begin organizing.

The captain glanced back at Locke and Terra. “Are you sending those two out somewhere? Do they require an escort, sire?”

“No, there is no need for an escort. They are going…” Edgar trailed off. He shifted on his feet and looked back at them. Watching Locke for a long moment, before he laced his fingers together, his eyes sliding away to stare at nothing.

Locke frowned, surely Edgar knew he could handle getting Terra safely to Banon on his own. They really didn't need an escort. Even if something happened, with his items and knifes, and Terra’s fire and sword they would be fine. In addition it wasn't like he would just leave Terra alone with Banon, so that couldn't be it either.

“I will be accompanying them,” Edgar said suddenly, in his ‘I have made a decision, and it is final’ voice.

Locke felt that he did an impressive job of covering his surprise, especially, compared to the captain who started coughing out of shock.

“You will be…” Sucking in another breath, the captain stumbled over his words. “Yes, sire. Of course, sire. As you say… sire,” cringing he trailed off. “And the escort?” he asked, voice shaky and eyes wide.

“Still unnecessary,” Edgar said decisively. “My previous orders still stand.”

“Yes, alright, of course.” He stared off to the side unblinking for a long moment before seeming to remember to tack on, “Sire.”

Locke shook his head, a smile growing across his face as he desperately tried not to laugh. Poor guy has no idea what to do about Edgar being Edgar.

Then again it is not like Locke had expected it either. Edgar, ‘my duty to my people is my top priority,’ heading off so suddenly? With Figaro on the edge of war? Unexpected. Though he kind of doubted he was thrown off by the same thing the captain was having trouble getting his head around.

The Captain blew out a breath. “Alright, then where are you headed, Sire?”  he asked as he turned back to Edgar. “or at least what shall I tell the chancellor?”

“We will head through the cave, and eastward to South Figaro. We'll then make for the Returner headquarters in the north,”  Edgar answered. “Send someone to return to the castle and pass the word along.”

“Understood, sire!”

“I have a few more things to do here,” Edgar said to Locke and Terra, as he turned to walk off. “I will be back in a few minutes.”

Terra nodded, not seeming to really be following what was going on.

“Yea, yea, go be King or whatever,” Locke laughingly called out after him.

Edgar scoffed, waving a hand behind him dismissively as he headed off to do whatever he does.

Locke poked Terra in the shoulder. “So, do you want to walk around a bit? Sit?”

She looked up at him in confusion.

“Ah, well… How about joining me in standing here and looking pretty?” He folded his hands under his chin and batted his eyes at her.

Terra huffed out a confused laugh.

He would take it!

---

(Edgar)

The cave to South Figaro was well accustomed for travel by a variety of groups and types of transport. Edgar had long since made sure of it by adding increased protections to the already fairly safe passage, while flattening out places where carts and chocobos were having trouble.

Even taking it into consideration, there was little anyone could do to make birds actually comfortable under so much rock. Figaro’s chocobos were, of course, military birds, trained to handle such discomfort. Still, they squawked as they clawed at the ground unhappily while the group of soldiers made their way deeper into the cave system towards South Figaro.

Not being able to see the sky would always be a stressor they could not completely eliminate.

Edgar patted Nix gently on the neck, as they watched his soldiers continue away from them on through the caves at the fastest safe clip. Even so, the military would not make it to South Figaro until late into the night.

“Locke, I trust you know a good camping spot,” Edgar said turning away from the direction his soldiers had gone.

“There is a nice out of the way alcove not far from here,” Locke answered as he waved his hand in a general direction.

“Why aren’t we going with them to the city?” Terra asked softly as they turned to find the alcove.

“A large military group arriving will draw a lot of attention. It will be safer not having all those eyes on us.”

“If we are going for less attention, then we really need to do something about you and your.” Locke motioned with his hand to all of Edgar. “You-ness.”

“Eloquent as always Locke.” Edgar sighed, as he looked down at what he had for clothing. “but your point is taken, I am not sure what we have in the packs, but hopefully there will be something usable.”

“Pants would be a good start,” he quipped. “I am impressed with your people’s training! Only a few of them looked like they were laughing behind your back!”

Edgar sighed out yet another exasperated, “Locke…” The whole thing had been so incredibly undignified. This was going to be one of those ‘funny Edgar stories’ that got whispered around, he just knew it. If he wasn't so much taller than everyone else, he could have borrowed some proper pants at least.

Locke hopped down from Pale’s back as they came to the alcove. “Hey don’t worry about it! It isn’t the least dressed you have run around!”

“Not helping.”

Locke looked back up at him with narrowed his eyes. “Was I supposed to be helping?”

Edgar rubbed his face letting out yet another sigh. “Just, get the packs off the birds, we need to know what we have,” he grumbled.

Locke waved his hand in acknowledgment, as he started to sweet talk the birds while making kissy noises at them and freeing them of their gear.

It was probably why Figaro’s birds loved Locke so much.

He was such an annoying little shit.

Edgar was going to keep him forever.

Shaking his head, Edgar turned to walk around the area they would be camping. No matter how tired one was, it always worked out better to check the area over before setting up. Very little was worse than finding an issue only after it became a problem.

Locke’s laugh, and Terra’s soft, “Oh,” made Edgar stop and turn towards them just in time to catch the bundle of fabric Locke tossed to him.

Unfolding it, he looked down at the pants.

The pants which were Edgar’s size.

“Locke,” he said flatly.

“It wasn't me! I swear!” Locke said between bouts of laughter. “It had to of been Codwin! He took over taking care of the supplies!”

“Well, at least I will not have to go into the city either like this, or with pants a foot short,” He said as he folded them back up with a sigh.

“Hey! I aint that much shorter than you!”

“Tiny, tiny man,” he deadpanned.

“I will bite your ankles,” Locke said with a sharp grin.

Terra giggled, making both men break out laughing too.

It only took a few minutes to get the camp properly set up. Chocobos settled, as well as they could be, the monster repellers set in place, sleep rolls set out as seating till they were ready to go to bed.

“I do hope you found a brush in there,” Edgar said as he ran his hand lightly over his tangled, soot marred braids. “My poor hair,” he lamented.

“No kidding,” Locke agreed as he tossed Edgar a brush from one of the packs, before sitting next to him. “These are really well stocked. I am curious why Codwin set up supplies for you too.”

“Likely has to do with the conversation we had yesterday,” he muttered as he tried to pick out one of the clips tangled in his hair. Stress and exhaustion from the day, pressing down on the whole of him.

“Do you want me to help?” Terra asked softly.

Edgar blinked then blew out a breath. “If you think there is anything you can do to help this mess I would be grateful.”

She nodded gravely as she sat down behind him, and started working out the ribbon knotted in his hair.

“What conversation?” Locke asked bringing the topic back to the packs.

“Oh, well… War is here,” Edgar said, voice soft, and soul heavy. “With all of the preparation we have been doing, there is little left which needs my immediate personal attention. Things have been set up well in advance, and everything else was set into motion by last night. Anything coming up in the next few days or so, can easily be handled by chancellor Codwin and the council.”

Edgar gently set his blue stoned hair adornment off to the side before continuing, “From a strategic stand point, my time would be better spent trying to talk directly to Banon. There is only so much that can be done via messengers, and getting together face to face up to this point, has been a mess all around.”

“Oh a mess huh?” Locke huffed out a sarcastic laugh as he leaned back on his hands, and looked up at the stones over their heads. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

Edgar hummed. It perhaps was a bit of an understatement for how little Banon was willing to compromise to set up meetings.

Hopefully they would be able to work out the lingering distrust, before it caused problems they couldn’t surmount. Keeping intel to who absolutely needed to know was sensible, but Edgar could not figure out why Banon kept quite so much back. Especially about things they both knew.

Edgar turned his head to watch the other two laugh about something he had missed in his musing, his own smile joining even though he had no idea what any of it had been about.

Deep down he knew, part of the reason he decided to make the trip was to…

To, just for a moment, take a break from everything.

To not be King Edgar, for a bit.

To just be... Edgar.

---

(Terra)

Terra snapped awake.

Her ears still rang from phantom laughter and the delighted words, ‘Good, good! Burn them all to a crisp!’  She curled her hand over her mouth, forcing back the sob that threatened to choke out of her. Desperately she tried to push away the strangling memory of his voice.

Hand trembling, she forced it from over her mouth.

Forced herself to take a deep breath.

To stop the quick gasping in favor of anything more controlled.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her breath slowed.

It would be really nice if one of the memories she recovered wasn’t so… horrible. Memories of Kefka and… her breath shuddered out.

Did she even have any good memories?

Finally feeling settled enough to uncurl she glanced to where the other two were sleeping, and flinched when she realized they were no longer doing so.

“Hey,” Locke said softly. “you ok?”

She shook her head before she could think better of it.

The blanket was soft as she wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling it over her head.

She set her forehead back down against her knees.

“Right,” Locke sighed softly.

Even from under the blanket, she could still feel them watching her.

She just wanted them to stop looking at her.

The nightmare… her… memory… they were looking.

The Armor pilots, were screaming and watching.

Eyes of shock, betrayal, and worst of all, sad understanding.

Kefka laughed, as her fire burned them all away.

---

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Between Who We Were, and Who We Strive To Be

(Locke)

Locke held out a handful of greens to Pale as the chocobo chirped and began to nibble at his breakfast. Most of the items they had set out for the night, had already been packed away, leaving the area nearly empty and them almost ready to leave. The only thing which still needed to be pick up was the tent, assuming Edgar ever got out of it.

Leaning over Locke’s shoulder, Nix snapped at the greens, catching a few leafs before Locke yanked them further from her. “No, no! Not for you!” he chided the bird with a laugh, as he did his best to nudge her away with his elbow.

Nix fluffed up with a, “Kweh!” which echoed around the cave making it twice, maybe even three times more effective in its indignation.

“Oh, don’t give me that, you fluffy menace! You have already had your breakfast!” Locke sidestepped to hold the greens out to the other chocobo again. “Just because Pale lets you push him around doesn’t mean I will.”

Terra laughed. “So this one is Nix?” she asked, reaching out to pet the still pouting chocobo. “It is nice to meet you,” she said, giving the bird a scratch to the cheek.

Nix did not stop pouting even as she leaned into Terra’s hand.

“The well behaved light colored one is named Pale,” Locke said, as he reached up and patted the bird’s beak, before motioning to the third chocobo closer to the entrance of the alcove. “And the more grey one is Rye.”

“They are different colors?” Terra asked.

“Yea, they are. It is kinda dark in here, the difference is easier to see in daylight, but Nix has darker feathers around her eyes, and in the light she is also a bit more of a golden color. Pale has white tips on his wings. Rye has some dark stripes in her tail feathers.”

“Oh! I see!” Terra smiled looking over the chocobos. “I thought they were all just yellow.”

“I think these three are classified as Yellows, but they are probably just on the line of being specialty birds.”

“Specialty birds?” Terra asked confused.

“Eh, well, certain colors usually have specific traits,” Locke explained. “and the more of a color they have, the more likely they are to have those traits. Golds can be really mean, and Nix has a good amount of it in her plumage, so she is stubborn and more likely to fight ya.”

“So you do understand the danger,” Edgar said, as he finally ducked out from inside the tent. “Yet, you keep stealing Albert.”

“You named her… Albert,” Locke said turning to look at him. “I don’t think I am the one she will get fed up with first!”

“Albert is a perfectly respectable name!”

“And that is why Beautiful likes me better! Besides, what? Am I really just supposed to not take any chance I get to ride a bird type nicknamed a ‘King’s Mount’? I mean, come on!”

Edgar’s sigh was a ridiculously put upon one. “Your absconding habits aside, do you think I will stand out too horribly in this?” he asked, while doing a spin.

Walking over, Locke barely held back a sigh as the ridiculously fancy man swooshed his beautiful, and very richly blue colored cloak around his shoulders.

Codwin likely hadn’t any reason to think about it at the time, but even without the overly fancy adornments of royalty, the color brightness, smoothness of the metal armor, fabric thickness, and intricate seam work, marked it all as extremely high quality.

Locke gave into the urge to sigh as he wrapped one of his own rougher fabric pieces around Edgar’s waist, in a sadly desperate attempt to off set the ridiculously expensive clothing. It didn’t really break the richness of it, but he had to hope it would make it to look more like ‘one nice outfit’ instead of ‘my closet all looks like this’.

It could have been far worse.

Edgar did, at least, look more like a merchant than a king.

An extremely wealthy merchant.

Then there were the things Locke wouldn’t be able to do much about.

Edgar was so ridiculously tall, he would automatically stand out, especially with the long, bright, blond well kept hair. His beautifully crafted spear might be over looked, since weapons were an often splurged on item, if no one got too close to see the fine detailing. Then there was how he held himself, with straight shoulders, and proper posture. Even his body language and expressions made it obvious he just expected the world to obey him!

“I think that is probably about as commoner as you could possibly look,” Locke said flatly.

“That bad, is it?” Edgar said with an overly posh accent.

Locke was quiet for a moment.

He probably couldn't do anything about how Edgar talked either.

“It will have to do,” Locke said, rubbing his hands down his face. “If something is not comfortable, then let me know. It’s always better, when running a con, to look used to your outfit. And it is easier to look that way if you really are settled into it.”

“Did you just refer to this as… a ‘con’?” Edgar said incredulously.

“Skills transfer!” Locke defended.

“If you say so,” Edgar said with a soft laugh.

Locke huffed and shook his head, leaving Edgar to fiddle with the outfit while he walked back over to the birds.

Nix, Pale, and Rye shifted as he approached, the clacks of their talons echoed off the stone walls along side their quiet chirps of confusion and worry.

With a sigh, he walked around them and found exactly what he had expected. Terra was standing completely still, hand paused as if in mid stoke on Nix’s side. Her eyes, unblinking, stared at the stone wall.

“Terra, why don’t you go talk to Edgar while I finish up?” Locke said softly, as he walked up beside her. Then repeated it louder when she did not react.

“Ok,” Terra said vaguely, as she slowly turned and wandered away.

Locke watched her for a moment and tried not to think about… everything, as he quickly broke down the tent and packed the bundles onto the chocobos.

Finished, Locke turned around and paused huffing out an amused, but exasperated, laugh.

Edgar, who had obviously done his own hair in the mean time, twisted a final strand of Terra’s hair up, looped the blue ribbon around, and tied it into a bow.

“Oh, yea, great!” Locke said as he waved his hand between them. “I look away for one minute and you throw a fancy hair party?!” At least the styles Edgar had chosen for both of them were only decorated with some nice ribbons instead of jeweled clips. Still, it screamed high status.

Terra giggled, running her fingers over the braid on the side of her head with a large smile.

Well, they could probably work with it.

---

(Edgar)

As they closed in on South Figaro, Edgar turned into the wind and took a deep breath. The closer they got to the ocean, the more it blew increasingly cool and sea-damp, a refreshing change from the arid-ness of the desert.

Soon, they were passing the treeline, climbing off the birds, and joining the crowds of people heading into the city.

There were far more carts and yelling children, than Edgar had ever seen before at the main entrance. He so rarely had the chance to visit South Figaro for any other reason but speeches or inspections, and those were always filled with so much organization and security, the city might as well have been locked down.

Walking near by, a little boy made silly faces at his tiny sibling nestled in a baby carrier. Further along, a couple argued good-naturedly, their ridiculous declarations nearly drowned out by their own laughter. Carts filled with bushels of fruit, bolts of fabric, and many other things to be sold at the market, rolled along towards the entrance. They were all completely unconcerned as they made their way into the city.

Along the South Figaro Wall, a number of his soldiers watched, sharp eyed and careful, over everything and everyone. Their duty was the protection of all those who set foot into his country, and unlike the ones who were walking past, they knew how close war loomed.

As Edgar and the others moved passed South Figaro’s grand wall, one guard stopped and jerked his head to take a second look at them. Then with wide eyes he, very pointedly, looked away.

“Well,” Edgar said barely managing to swallow a laugh at the young man’s expense. “Hopefully, anyone else who… notices will have the same discretion.”

“His face!” Locke’s shoulders still shaking from laughing, he gathered up the reins and turned towards the stable. “I will be right back.”

Terra nodded and leaned against the wall, eyes wide, but mostly relaxed.

Edgar settled himself next to her, tucking his spear against his shoulder, as he turned his attention back to the people around them.

Two kids played tag, running and yelling as they tried to tackle each other. Further down, a group of three people walked along the road, their clasped hands swinging between them. So many others ran, laughed, and joked through the entrance area, all passing by without even a glance his way.

Edgar blew out a breath, his shoulders relaxing.

No one noticed him, it would be okay.

He could do this, he just had to act like a commoner.

… He could do this…

Maybe.

Once people noticed him, and they always did, there would be bowing and awkward greetings, or worse, wide eyed looks and fear. People always pretended, or at least were self conscious about their actions, when they realized he was around.

But for now, it was alright, no one else had realized he was there.

Locke joined back up with them, and with a wave, led them towards the open air market. The colorful stalls lined the main road, voices of people calling out deals, and the smell of sizzling foods and baked sweets filled the air. Begging, a kid asked her dad for a new toy as the man tried to haggle for some fabric. A woman handed another woman a fresh flower before leaning over and kissing her quickly, making both of their faces turn a bright, delighted red.

Edgar sucked in a breath letting a soft smile slip across his face. This was a version of his country he so rarely ever got to see.

These were his people, commoners, just living their lives.

Edgar ran his hand idly over the dark blue cloak wrapped around his shoulders. It was thick and sturdy. Rather unlike his usual clothing, it was obviously made with durability in mind. It was odd for him to have something so plain looking, a garment without even a stitch of gold embroidery. Yet, as he looked around at the people as they passed, and compared what they were wearing, he frowned.

A woman selling coats showed off the simply stitched pattern along the collar, to a man whose coat had a fraying patch covering a large portion of it. A little boy in a grass stained outfit, that not only was faded but several sizes too large, yelled and pulled on his annoyed older sibling’s arm.

Glancing sideways at Locke, Edgar pressed his lips together tighter.

Locke’s clothing was far more faded and loosely woven than anything of Edgar’s. Locke’s coat, obviously sturdy, was patched in places. From the top of the thread bare and slightly faded bandannas around his head, to the tips of his scuffed shoes, every thing was obviously well used, and well worn.

Edgar glanced over the crowd.

Locke fit in here.

Edgar was…

“Here I grabbed you one too,” Locke said, knocking Edgar out of his thoughts.

“One what?” he asked as he took the round sweet smelling pastry.

He shrugged, shoving far too much of the snack into his mouth, and promptly answered with it still full, “Didn’t stop to ask.”

Edgar paused, and finished chewing before saying flatly, “You did not just grab them as we walked by, did you? You paid, yes?”

“Whaaaaaat? Of course they were paid! Who do you take me for,” Locke said rather unconvincingly, as he started tossing a money pouch into the air, the coins inside clinking.

With an annoyed huff of breath, Edgar snatched the bag out of the air. Glaring, he shoved his money pouch back into its proper place.

“Aw, come on, Edgar! Don’t be mad! You got plenty!” Locke said, opening his arms wide with an annoyingly charming grin.

Terra was valiantly trying not to laugh by taking a large bite of her pastry.

“Moving on,” Edgar said with a sigh. “Did you make a list of what items we are lacking?”

He nodded, his cheeks puffed out from another too large bite.

“Alright. Locke, you go find the Returner contact here, Terra and I will pick up the items we need.”

“We should probably stick together,” Locke said through his mouthful with a shake of his head. “If you get robbed…” he trailed off.

“You think I can’t handle myself?”

“Have you ever even been shopping?” Locke accused.

Edgar opened his mouth to argue, realized he could not think of a single time he had, in fact, been shopping and closed it again.

“Thought so!” Locke said laughing.

“It can’t be that difficult!”

“Difficult, no, but you will definitely do something.” He waved his hand at all of Edgar. “You like.”

“Locke…” he sighed.

“I am right and you know it!”

Edgar pinched the bridge of his nose.

Locke was right, damn him.

“Fine. We stick together.”

---

(Shadow)

Right outside of South Figaro, a few soldiers reclosed the containers of fruit in a cart and hopped to the ground. They waved the all clear to the others waiting near by as they motioned to the owners that they could return to their things. Nodding to the soldiers, the group settled themselves into their wagon as the chocobo latched to the front chirped and trotted into the city.

Shadow slowed his stride, and changed direction to stand closer to the treeline. There were at least ten soldiers looking over traveling groups as they went through the main entrance, far more than last time he was there.

Something must have happened.

Whatever they were looking for, he wanted no part in it.

“Come on, Interceptor,” Shadow said, as he reached down and patted the dog’s side.

With soft steps, they moved into and along the inside of the treeline, while keeping an eye on the large city wall. His dark clothing and Interceptor’s fur easily blended into the shade from the canopy, obscuring their path. Gauging the distance to be about right, Shadow climbed up a tree to get a good sight line above the wall. It wasn't hard to spot the place he was looking for. A spire, standing above the rest of the buildings, was adorned with a gold statue glinting in the sunlight.

At least rich people and their shining bad taste made them easy to spot.

After glancing along the walkway on top of the wall, for apparently nonexistent security, he sighed and jumped to the ground.

Shadow walked over to the wall and ran his fingers over the time worn stone. Considering the thing was from before the city was obnoxiously renamed South Figaro, and was hundreds of years old even before that, it had fewer eroded places he could use as handholds than he would have expected.

Still, it would be an easy enough climb, so there was no reason to risk throwing up a line.

Quickly, he made his way up, and peeked over the top, checking for any guards he had missed.

There was no one.

Shaking his head, he stayed low and pulled himself up. With one last, pointless, glance around, he clicked his tongue with a soft command of, “up.”

Interceptor landed beside him with a soft clack of claws.

“Good boy,” Shadow whispered, as he patted the dog’s head. Moving to the inner side of the wall, he looked down into the mansion’s back garden.

The area between the wall and the overly large ‘house’ was filled with trees, flowers, and shrubs he had only otherwise seen in different parts of the world. All of them were in straight, controlled rows, without a single stem, branch, or leaf out of place.

There were still, no guards.

He would be willing to bet the only reason Locke hadn't already robbed this rich fool poor, was because of whatever he had going with the Figaro crown. The King was a bit of a fool, but at least he had enough sense to not rename Kohlingen ‘North Figaro’ when he took it over.

With a sigh, Shadow vaulted over the edge of the wall into the garden.

Tilting his head, he listened for any disturbances.

The area was still and silent.

“To me,” he whispered, with a click of his tongue.

With Interceptor at his side, Shadow stood up, walked straight through the garden which had been chopped to the edge of its life, and into the ‘house’.

By the triad, the back door wasn't even locked.

Exasperated, he headed up the stairs.

“Oh goodness me!” a maid screamed as she stumbled a few steps away from him, nearly tumbling down the steps.

“I am here to pick up a message,” Shadow said flatly.

“Oh? R-right, the-” her voice shook as she stuttered. “The master did mention someone would be… by… today.”

“Where is he?”

“His office, I think,” she said, motioning up the stairs with a jerky, vague, motion.

Shadow nodded in acknowledgment as he continued on his way, ignoring how she pressed herself against the wall.

The woman made a low keen as they made their way past her, as if she thought he had any reason to bother with her.

It wasn’t like he would be hired for a hit on a maid of all people.

Glancing through doorways, he peered into one gold decorated room after the next as he went down the hall. Luckily, it was not long before he found the man he was looking for hunched over his overly large, desk. Behind which, spanned across the entirety of one wall, was a bookcase filled with books so pristine they likely had never been opened.

Shadow waited a moment, before knocking softly against the door frame.

The man did not look up.

Sighing, he knocked his hand a bit louder, and added, “I am here for the message.”

With a shriek, the man jumped up, his large fancy chair toppled over and slammed to the ground. “You!?” His eyes went from wide to narrowed as he whined, “How dare you startle me like that!”

“The message,” Shadow repeated.

“You will get it when you get it!” the pathetic fool snapped out with a sneer. “You should learn your place, you ruffian! I am a noble! Descended from kings! People like you are lucky to even be anywhere in my presence!” He puffed out his chest, as if it made him anything more than a now puffed up pathetic fool.

It was people like this guy who were vastly more likely to end as blood on his blade.

The same type who figured their social power and coin would protect them.

“You will come back later this evening before dinner,” the man said shifting on his feet, as his bluster failed. “I will be done with it by then.” Straightening his back as if still trying to seem imposing, he cowered behind his desk. “Now get out!” he snapped, waving his hand in a shooing motion.

Shadow watched him, waited until the man’s breathing started to get strained, before responding, “Till then.” He turned and walked out the door.

“And don’t you bring that flea bitten mutt back in my house!!” the coward yelled, only when Shadow was already halfway down the stairs.

Getting off of the property was just as easy as getting on had been.

Carefully, Shadow kept to the side streets as they moved deeper in to the city, watching the ebb and flow of the people as they traveled. Everyone strode calmly, nothing appeared to be abnormal other than the increased number of soldiers.

With a soft sigh, he ordered the dog to stay put not far off his target, and headed towards the military barracks. Swinging himself up onto a nice sturdy cross beam, he settled in to wait.

After a moment of debate, he pulled out an Inviz, snapped the small item, and forced himself not to shift at the uncomfortable feeling of the invisibility taking hold.

It wasn’t long before a handful of Figaro Soldiers leaned against the wall under him. Looking around, their eyes skipped right over Shadow as they moved closer together. They kept their talk in low tones, and careful wording, in an effort to keep what they discussed from spreading.

They failed.

By the time Shadow dropped down from his hiding spot, he had more than enough information.

Kefka had attacked Figaro early, so South Figaro would likely be attacked in the next week to a month, depending on how fast the Empire could move up their time table.

Shadow motioned to Interceptor with a soft, “To me.”

Once South Figaro was under control, the Empire would go after the Returners hiding in the mountains nearby. Unless something changed, the resistance would finally be taken care of.

Shadow hissed out a breath and shook off the thought.

It was not his problem.

Turning on his heel, he headed towards the tavern.

He might as well have a drink or two before he had to go back and talk to a guy who thought only his own time was worth anything.

At least with war in the area starting, he wouldn’t have to deal with that rich traitor anymore.

A man at the door to the tavern stopped them with a held up hand. “Your dog-”

Shadow stared at him as Interceptor growled.

The doorman squeaked, snapped his mouth shut, and quickly backed away while waving them inside. “Nothing! It is fine!”

Shadow scoffed as they entered into the chatter filled pub. Cards were being played, drunks staggered about, and more than a few people held far too loud conversations. With a smooth side step, Shadow made sure one of the drunks stumbled into him. The man slurred out a ‘sorry sorry’ before staggering off, nearly knocking over a table on his way.

Sitting down in a nice stretch of clear area at the bar, he tapped on the counter to get the bartender’s attention while Interceptor settled down next to him by the bar stool.

“What can I get you?” the barman asked with a stiff smile.

“Two shots of Fire Coat,” he said, as he set the Figaro coins down onto the bar.

Quickly pouring a shot, the bartender set it in front of him. “Second glass?”

“No.” Grabbing the glass, Shadow tipped up the lower part of his mask just enough to down the drink without showing his face. Looking back at the bartender he tapped the bar next to his now empty glass, the bartender carefully stepped over and poured the second shot.

With a quick nod the bartender took the payment and retreated.

Shadow grimaced as someone across the room started doing what was probably supposed to be singing, but it was so bad he couldn’t figure out what the song was even supposed to be. The whole place was loud, smelled like stale alcohol, and was vaguely sticky.

The only good part of it was the drinks were free.

Shadow frowned, as Interceptor gave a tiny boof of recognition. Turning, he looked over his shoulder.

Locke had just walked in.

Great.

He did not want to deal with Locke.

Locke was talking to a very tall blond mark, who obviously had more money than sense if he was talking to that guy of all people. Watching the two interact made Shadow wonder what kind of con he was running which would require what looked like… taunting.

Even more annoying was the blond man looked familiar.

Shadow just couldn’t place where he had seen him.

It was going to bother him forever, he was sure.

Turning back to his drink, he downed it. Whatever Locke had going on was none of his business, and hopefully would keep him distracted long enough for Shadow to slip away.

Locke, of course, walked right up to him and just stood there.

Staring.

Shadow was not going to acknowledge the annoyance.

He was not.

“Right, ignore us and maybe we'll just disappear…”  Locke said waving his hands in the air like the fool he was.

“Good,” Shadow snarled just loud enough for Locke to hear him. Maybe he should just stab the man. “Leave us. The dog eats strangers…”  he said louder.

As Locke huffed a soft laugh the blond man grabbed Locke by the arm and yanked him away.

Shadow froze for a moment, as Locke just kept laughing.

Normally, Locke would never stand for someone manhandling him. Whoever that tall guy was, he definitely wasn't a mark. Shadow had no idea Locke trusted anyone, or that anyone would put their lives on the line by trusting Locke.

Huh, Locke had a friend.

“Back off, Locke. That guy looks familiar…”  The sounds of the bar drowned out most of the blond’s words as he mumbled something. “Yeah, that's him, all right…! That's Shadow... He's an assassin. I hear he'd kill his own best friend for the right price…”

Shadow hid his flinch by turning his attention back to his empty glass. Well, at least it was confirmation his reputation was solid.

“Guess we'd better steer clear of him then,” Locke answered dryly.

Shadow huffed out a soft laugh.

As if he and Locke weren't basically in the same line of work.

Shadow motioned to the bartender and set another Fig coin on the counter, tapping the coin on the king’s ridiculous shiny face, for a refill.

---

(Terra)

Water, of such lovely deep blue, stretched along the horizon where it met the softer color of the sky. The afternoon sun shimmered off the rolling waves, while birds called out as they dipped and dove like they were dancing with the tides.

Along the large port, South Figaro’s dock workers shouted to each other over the wind, as they moved together to unload and reload various ships as they came and went.

Terra took a deep breath and turned into the gentle, calming wind. The smell of salt and feel of the ocean spray against her skin was grounding.

“Oh! That is a really nice cape!”

Terra startled, turned, and looked down at the grinning young girl.

“It is all,” the girl paused as she waved her hand at it before continuing, “See through-y! Where did you get it?”

“Uh…” Terra hesitated with a blink. “I… don’t remember?” she said shifting on her feet.

The little girl’s smile dropped along with her shoulders. “Oh… ok. Its ok,” the girl said with a nod. “I forget things my ma says I should remember all the time! I only remember the really interesting things!”

“Oh? Like what?” Terra asked with a soft smile.

“Like, my dad's super-important, so important people come here for dinner with us all the time!” she boasted with her little hands on her hips. “Even General Le-” the girl cut herself off sharply. “I mean, um...general-ly... generally he has important people for…” she trailed off. “Uh, I forgot what I was going to say!”  she yelled with a nervous laugh. “Anyway! Just uh! Nice cape! Ok! bye!” the kid said over her shoulder as she sprinted off.

Terra blinked, startled, after the girl as she zig-zaged between people and out of sight.

Something about what the girl had said… bothered her.

Terra just couldn’t… place it…

“Hey!” Locke called out, as he strode over and threw his arm around her shoulders. “We can’t find the contact,” he whispered to her, then added louder, “Is there anything else you want to do in the city before we head out?”

“If there is, we should get to it. I am hoping to make it to Mount Kolts before nightfall,” Edgar said as he leaned against the safety rail on her other side. “We could have been half-way through the mountain pass if we hadn't made this pointless stop,” he grumbled, scowling at the sky.

Terra tilted her head at him. “The ocean is beautiful.”

Edgar rolled his head to the side to look down at her. “Ah? Well, my dear Terra, at least one of us got something out of it I suppose,” he said with a soft smile. Pushing himself off the railing, he stood up straight. “If we have concluded all our business here?” he said, looking at them expectantly. When neither had anything to add, he nodded and continued, “Very well, lets get the birds and head out.”

As many questions as there were filtering around her head, she knew better than to ask any of them as they collected the chocobos, and were still within the city.

It was only once the view of South Figaro fell away behind them, she finally felt it safe enough to ask, “What happened with the contact?”

“Usually it is easy to find them in one of a few places,” Locke answered with a shake of his head. “Yet nothing this time. Strangely, they didn’t even seem to be in town.”

“Perhaps they were already running information somewhere?” she asked.

“They should have someone in town at all times,” Edgar countered with a frown. “Perhaps it has to do with Shadow.”

“Not likely,” Locke said, before blowing out a breath. “Or, I guess the contact could have hidden because of him.”

Terra looked between them. “What shadow?” she asked, very confused.

Both men turned towards her, startled.

“Ah, forgive me,” Edgar said. “Shadow is the name of an assassin.”

“Yea, he tends to work for the Empire,” Locke added.

Edgar turned in the saddle to give Locke a long look. “You knew who he was before I said anything!” he accused.

Locke ducked his head as he stuttered out, “Well, well yea-”

“Then why did you go up to him! That dog he had was huge, it could have eaten you!”

“The dog? Interceptor is a good boy!”

“A-a-a,” Edgar stuttered, “g-good boy!? Locke! Please tell me you were not planning on petting the dog!”

“Ok, I won’t tell you,” Locke responded with a huge grin, before breaking out laughing.

Terra was rather disappointed she didn’t get to see the dog.

“My dear Locke, are you trying to get yourself killed in the most ridiculous way you can find?” Edgar bemoaned, as he buried his face in both his hands, hissing out a breath between them.

“Aw, come on Edgar, don’t be mad!” Locke whined.

Edgar dropped his hands and stared flatly at Locke for a long moment before taking a deep breath. “So. Shadow. Tell me what you know of him,” he ordered, voice tight.

“It wasn't like I was trying to not tell you or anything, it just didn’t seem important…” Locke trailed off softly.

Edgar just kept looking at him flatly.

“Right. Anyway.” Locke glanced away with an almost concealed flinch. “Shadow is an… odd guy. He is, despite his reputation, rather picky about his, well, kills.” He paused to look back to them before continuing, “Shadow doesn’t do kids, period. Not as target, not as bait, not as collateral of any kind.”

Locke looked over at Edgar with a bit of a grimace before continuing, “I know it doesn’t sound like much. But see, no kids rules, of many types, are fairly common, but a worryingly large number don’t care if a kid is collateral damage,” he hissed out with an upset twist to his face. “Shadow only kills his target, only does exactly what he is paid to do.”

“I fail to see how any of that leads you to think he wasn't there for a hit on the contact,” Edgar said.

Locke blew out a breath as he fiddled with the reins. “Well that's where things get interesting, and really speculative.”

Edgar nodded and waved him to go ahead.

“As true as it is about him doing mostly work for the Empire, I know for a fact he has known information which would have badly damaged the Returners, yet, he just never did anything with it.”

“What?!” Edgar hissed out.

“I, of course, asked him why. All he said was ‘no one paid me for it’! As if he couldn’t have easily sold it!”

“You didn’t tell anyone he had the information?” Edgar asked sharply.

“By the time I found out he had it, the information was defunct!” Locke tossed his hands up with a shake of his head “The operation it was about went off clean. I looked into it, of course, and I have been keeping an eye on him, but there hasn't even been a whisper of Shadow selling information about, or directly acting against, the Returners”

“Huh,” Edgar said quietly. “I really don’t know what to make of any of that,” he eventually admitted.

Locke made an agreeing noise as he waved his hand back and forth. “Exactly!”

Terra shifted. The name Shadow didn’t seem familiar, really, but the more she heard of him the more a memory floated up. A man in all black. Face covered leaving only his sharp eyes exposed. Large, dark dog at his side. A rough voice saying, ‘I wouldn't recommend it.’

She wondered what he wouldn't recommend.

---

(Banon)

Shouts from the guards near the entrance of the base drew Banon’s attention. Rushing through the cave, he got there just as the door slammed shut behind the messenger.

She straightened at the sight of him, shifting her nearly empty pack on her shoulder.

“You are stationed in South Figaro, are you not?” Banon asked as he motioned her to follow him to the area of the cave system he had set up as his office.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why did you leave your post?” Mads asked as she followed them in and closed the door.

“I am sorry about that, but it seemed like the kind of information you would need as soon as I could get it to you,” the messenger said with a sigh of relief as she sunk into the chair in front of Banon’s desk.

“Understandable, what happened?” Banon said as he took his own seat.

“The information was still a bit sparse when I left, but apparently Figaro Castle was attacked by Kefka sometime yesterday morning!”

“What!?” Mads gasped.

“You are sure of this information?” Banon asked.

“As sure as I can be without going to look at the castle myself,” she confirmed.

If the Empire was moving on Figaro so soon, then things would get much more dangerous for the base they were in. “Mads, the last message to the group near Doma. Did they ever reply?”

Mads shook her head. “Nothing. We are likely going to have to actually call it as being gone,” she said voice sorrowful.

“It was bad enough when we lost our last foothold on the southern continent last year. With recruitment down…” He ran his fingers along the side of his eye. They didn’t even have enough people to keep two at South Figaro!

“We may have to ask Locke to look into things,” Mads said, frowning. “At this point owing favors, or even having him play us, wouldn't make us much worse off.”

“Isn't that a depressing thought,” Banon grumbled.

He took a deep breath.

Held it for a moment.

Then let it out.

“Even so,” he said, only steadied a little. “As long as we have breath, we must continue to fight.”

Mads took a deep breath and straightened. “Of course,” she agreed.

“Any ideas on where General Leo is?” Banon looked between their shaking heads with a sigh. “I have a bad feeling whatever he is currently up to, is about to become our main problem. Was there anymore information from South Figaro?”

“Not really. The details were a bit jumbled as all the soldiers were starting to shift to war preparation when I left. From what I understood, Kefka set the castle on fire!” She hesitated a moment before adding, “There was also…”

“Something else?” Banon prompted when she did not continue.

“Well, it wasn't important… but something about the Castle sinking? And King Edgar… lost his pants?”

“...what?” Banon choked out.

“I have no idea.”

---

(Terra)

Sparks from the campfire drifted up into the night sky like they were trying to join with the stars. Terra tilted her head back, looking up over the tops of the trees to the moon lit mountain. “It is so beautiful,” she whispered.

“My dear Terra,” Edgar said, breaking her out of her revere as he sat next to her. “Would you like me to take your hair down? The style is lovely for daywear, but will quickly become uncomfortable in the night.”

“Thank you, Edgar,” she said with a nod.

He sat down behind her, gently untying ribbons and unbraiding her hair. “I was thinking. Well, considering memory issues, Your name is Terra, right?”

She blinked. “Yes?”

“Well alright then.” Edgar hummed softly. “I wanted to make sure. Sometimes, things can get jumbled, or people can decide they don’t like the name they have and want a new one.” He laughed good-naturedly as he continued, “or a new a lot of things. I just wanted to ensure, you know, that if we are calling you the wrong things, to let us know and we will change it.”

Terra was… confused.

Her name was her name… wasn’t it?

“People change their names?” she asked eventually.

“Oh yea, all the time! What kind of parents would name their kid ‘Locke’, after all?” Edgar finished with a soft smirk.

Locke squawked in indignation from the other side of the fire. “Locke is a perfectly respectable name!” he defended, as he pointed the charred tip of a stick at them. “How dare you!” he gasped out dramatically.

Terra couldn’t help but giggle at his antics. “You picked it?”

Locke nodded, as he walked around the fire to plop down next to them. “Yup! It has such a nice ring to it.”

“You named yourself after a closing device,” Terra said tilting her head.

“One that usually holds the good treasure!”

Edgar laughed warmly. “Ah, of course, it is always about the treasure.”

“Obviously!” Locke tossed his hands up then jerked one back down with a flinch.

“Locke,” Edgar said unhappily, “are you hurt?”

“It is a little sore, mostly just a bruise,” Locke huffed out, while rolling his shoulder a bit.

“We have potions,” Edgar reprimanded.

“It’s not that bad!”

“You flinched,” Edgar said dryly.

Terra shook her head at them. They were always arguing over the oddest things. Closing her eyes, she pooled healing magic in her hand, reached out and ran her fingers over Locke’s hurt shoulder, fixing it. “There, no potions wasted,” she said, putting an end to the silly disagreement.

Locke blinked down at his shoulder as he moved it around. “Huh, thanks.”

She smiled at him.

“Well,” Edgar said with an odd note in his voice. “Still, next time don’t just leave it,” he said, hands slowly starting to take her hair down again.

Locke rolled his eyes.

Terra smiled, warm and comfortable as the other two continued to joke back and forth.

Edgar carefully taking down and brushing out her hair.

Locke saying silly things to get both of them to laugh.

And above them all, the beautiful, seemingly endless, night sky.

---

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 : Storm Clouds on the Horizon

(Locke)

Mount Kolts, loomed.

Locke urged Rye slowly forward, her talons clacking as she kicked some of the loose rocks out of their way along the path. From where they were, he should have been able to see the entrance to the passage through the mountain. Instead, rubble was scattered, tossed onto itself into random piles which towered and teetered over their heads.

He gave himself a moment to hope, because why not, and slid off the chocobo. With slow, measured steps, he picked his way up and over one of the largest piles to take a look. Rocks under his feet slid. Tossing his arms out, he stilled until everything had settled. With a shake of his head, he started back down.

“Well, looks like there was a rock slide.” Once Locke’s feet were back on solid ground, he tilted his head to look up at the clouds.

Fluffy, fluffy clouds without a care in the world.

Lucky.

“A rock slide,” Edgar repeated, from atop his chocobo. “What else could… no, no I am not going to…”

“This was the path to the valley?” Terra asked, as she climbed off Pale. “I can’t even tell there was a cave here.”

“Yea, and it really is the only safe way to get past the mountain.” He motioned up towards the pile of rocks and danger. “The monsters are so strong up there people are always using this place for training.” It was none of his business, what others liked spending their time on, but he did not see the appeal. “Actually, that may explain… this.”

“What might?” Terra asked.

“People sparring,” Locke answered, trying to think of an alternate path. “There’s a guy named Duncan who trains people up there. Last time something like this happened, he just laughed and responded, ‘sometimes the younguns get a bit rambunctious.’ I am still not sure if he was joking…”

Edgar pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is there another entrance?”

“Nope. The only way to continue forward would be up and over, or wait till the path is cleared.” Locke shook his head, as he looked up at the horrible, supposedly sacred mountain. “We could always loop around, and get to the valley from the Narshe side.”

“It would take too long…” Edgar said, as he laced his fingers together, gaze turned up at Mount Kolts. “If we go up there, how much actual climbing would we need to expect?”

“There shouldn’t be any climbing.” Locke waved the question off with a bit of a forced laugh. “There are other paths, a lot of them actually, the problem is we will seriously need to be worried about ending up on a monster’s menu.” He motioned to the chocobos as he continued, “and we will not be able to ride. At least the birds are Figaro trained, so if they came with us, they would be as safe as we would be.”

Not that they would be safe.

“Very well.” Edgar looked from Locke to Terra and nodded as he slid off his chocobo. “We will go over the mountain then.”

Locke pressed his lips together to keep the screaming internal. Sure, why not, it would probably be fine. He always wanted to be eaten by a monster.

Life goals and all that.

“Let’s go,” Edgar ordered as he turned and headed up the path with a series of sharp whistles which commanded the birds to follow him.

Of course Edgar never even bothered to look back to make sure they were behind him.

King Edgar just expected his word would be all it took to get them moving.

Annoyingly enough, he wasn’t wrong.

Locke glanced at Terra as they trailed after him.

Both of them followed the order just as surely as the birds had.

---

(Kefka)

Light shone off of the intricate gold adornments as it streamed in through the skylights of the Emperor’s private sitting room. The man himself walked back and forth, teeth grit, voice as sharp as the most honed blade, as he ranted. When he rolled his shoulders and tossed an arm wide, the sun caught the stones set in his rings; they sparkled like trapped stars.

Through it all, Kefka grinned.

And made sure, he kept grinning.

“-am I clear, Kefka,” the Emperor snapped out, as he turned on his heel, long gold embroidered fur cape swooshing around him in a wide arch.

“Perfectly, Your Excellency!” Kefka bowed. Bent nearly in half, he swept one hand wide, and placed the second against his chest. “I understand I was a bit… hasty in my efforts to get back the girl. I-” He staggered back, hand flying up just short of his cheek, before he got a hold of himself and lowered it again.

“Enough!” the Emperor ordered as he shook out his hand. “I am beyond uninterested in your petty excuses.”

“Of course, Your Excellency.”

“The amount of things I will have to rework because of your little temper tantrum! You are lucky I still have use for you!” the Emperor said, as he ran his fingers down one of the graying lock of hair which framed his face.

“Of course, Your Excellency.”

“For now, you will join the South Figaro war party under General Celes,” the Emperor commanded, shoulders settling straight as he waved his personal guards back to their posts by the wall.

“Of course, Your Excellency.”

“Don’t think this inconvenience will go unpunished. You will be getting what you deserve for it, such will just have to wait till after South Figaro is under proper control,” the Emperor reminded him. “A war on two fronts will be enough trouble without you being useless.”

“Of course, Your Excellency.”

“Get out.” The Emperor flicked his wrist, shooing him away.

“Of course, Your Excellency.”

Kefka bowed, yet again, and swiftly did as ordered.

He grinned, as he passed through the lovely throne room.

He grinned, as he strode through the metal corridors of Vector.

He grinned, as he turned towards the long hallway to his rooms.

Once the door to his main room was shut behind him, he slammed his hand down, and with a solid click, the lock engaged.

Finally alone, Kefka let his grin shatter into a snarl as he stormed across the entryway. Soft carpets muffled his steps, right up until he rounded into his bedroom, where his boots made a proper noise to accent his rage.

His cheek stung where the Emperor had hit him. It hurt only a bit more as he prodded it with his finger, a light punishment as a precursor to a proper one.

The feel of wetness, made him jerk his hand back.

Blood, his blood!

He was bleeding!

Kefka snarled, then forced in a deep breath and paused.

It was fine.

Easily fixed.

He slowly raised a hand, and swirled it through the air. Magic pooled, and shimmered around his fingers, as he brushed them over the cuts sliced into his face by the Emperor’s rings.

The sting faded away.

Kefka shook his head, and with a few steps he stood before his dressing mirror. White foundation was smeared away, the bright color of his eye shadow now dull and muddy.

This would not do.

With quick swipes he cleaned away the old make up, his face soon cleared for the new.

Although the over all situation was… less than ideal, at least he would be able to look for the girl in South Figaro. Finding her, and getting her back where she belonged, was of utmost importance. As long as he did not deviate too far from his orders, surely, the Emperor would understand.

With a careful, practiced hand, Kefka spread the fresh, bright white foundation across his skin. Evenly he covered his face, and set it into place.

Kefka needed to find a way to fix his standing with the Emperor. There was no way he would allow the loss of his position after so long. Especially not because of, probably Leo’s, over inflated worries about a multi-fronted war.

There had to be a way to take care of the issue.

He would find it.

But first, he needed to fix his visage.

---

(Edgar)

With a screech, the bird monster dove, its talons slicing through the air. Edgar jumped back, and slid on the loose rocks as he ducked out of the way. Spear shifted to his off hand, he pulled out his crossbow and fired.

The bird spun in the air and careened into the ground.

Edgar snapped his attention to the others, just as Locke dodged away from the second monster.

Terra, fire at her fingers and bright firelight in her eyes, made a quick motion and sent flame slamming into the large tusked creature.

It reared back with a roar. Once settled back on it’s legs, it rounded with angry focus locked on Terra. Gravel skittered across the path as it charged at her.

Unconcerned, she pulled her sword. When its tusk was a mere breath away, she side stepped and slashed her sword deep into the monster’s shoulder as it charged by.

Edgar rushed forward, stowed his crossbow, and flipped his spear back into his dominant hand. With a leap, he landed a heavy attack on the monster, before jumping back away.

Locke’s Fire Skean exploded into a fireball, and the monster fell.

“Well, I can see you were not joking about the monsters up here,” Edgar said, as he scanned the area to make sure they had handled them all. “Hopefully we will not run into too many of those large ones.” Once he caught sight of Terra, he immediately rushed over to her. “Your arm!”

Bright red dripped down Terra’s shoulder, and pooled at the top of her armor. “I am alright. It is just a cut,” she said with a shrug of her uninjured arm.

“Looks like more than just a cut to me,” Locke huffed out as he opened the pouch at his waist. “Give me a second, I will get you a potion.”

“It is not about the severity.” Edgar tilted his head to get a better look at the gash. Luckily, it did not look too deep. “It would be best if you didn’t get hurt at all.” To keep her around, it seemed, would be an exercise in stress and worry, rather like his life already was with Locke around.

Someone save him from the beautiful, competent, and incredibly reckless.

“Do dodge a bit earlier next time,” Edgar said with a sigh.

Terra looked back and forth between them, her brow furrowed. “Oh,” she whispered, as she looked down at her arm.

“Yea, ‘oh,’” Locke said, as he held out a small potion bottle. “Here.”

Terra blinked at it for a moment, then shook her head. “It is alright, I don’t need it.” She cupped her hand, eyes glowing gently as soft light pooled. The cut shimmered with magic, as she traced her fingers over the injury, and when the light faded, it took the gash and blood with it. “There, all fixed!” She smiled up at them, like it was a perfectly normal thing she just did.

“Oh! Right! I forgot you could do that!” Locke laughed, as he slipped the potion back into his pouch.

“Right,” Edgar said, as he swallowed his unease at the use of magic. “Just be sure not to tire yourself out using… that. None of us know what the limit on it is, or what will happen if you hit it.” He gave her a stern look. “So try not to get hurt, and if you feel tired, use a potion instead.”

She straightened her stance and saluted. “Understood!”

“Kweh?” a chocobo chirped as Rye took a step out from around the rock the rest of the chocobos were still hidden behind.

“Oh! The birds!” Terra exclaimed, as she turned on her heel and rushed off.

Locke glanced over at Edgar. “Was that a-?” he asked, his voice low.

Edgar dipped his head in a slight nod. “It was definitely an Empire salute.”

“I am not greens!” Terra complained, as her hair was clamped in Nix’s beak and pulled. She reached up with one hand and petted the chocobo between the eyes. Nix made happy chirp and drop Terra’s hair.

“Suppose it reinforces what she was saying about having been part of the military before…” Locke said, his voice just louder than the wind.

“Not much point in having someone under complete control learn to salute.”

“Ego can make people do weird things” Locke glanced at Edgar out of the corner of his eye. “Maybe at some point, they figured she would be better used as a rare piece of specialized equipment.”

“What?” Edgar said, confusion made his voice come out flat. With a shake of his head he countered, “She is intelligent, and obviously well trained. Even if looking at it from a standpoint of use, she would be a bigger asset with her mind intact.”

“Yea, but people are... unpredictable,” Locke said carefully.

Near the rocks, Terra’s joy radiated out in her laugh as she petted Pale and Nix. Rye, right next to them, flapped her wings in a chocobo version of a pout.

“You said it yourself,” Locke continued, voice still ever so quiet. “Gestahl doesn’t believe in loyalty, just fear and control. Even if he did, loyalty is difficult to gain, and harder to keep. So what if he lost some of her abilities? With her under complete control, he wouldn't have to worry about trying to secure obedience from someone who is so dangerous.” He turned and looked over the side of the mountain for a moment, jaw tight. “Better to have a weapon you can use as needed.”

“People are not weapons,” Edgar said, voice more sharp and clipped than he really meant it to be. “They aren't toys. They aren't things to be used, and tossed aside.”

No matter what he said, Locke had a point.

Edgar really hated how Locke had a point.

“Sure,” Locke said with a loose shrug.

“Locke.”

“Hey! I ain't disagreeing,” Locke added in a rush with his hands up, grin almost believable. He tipped his head towards Terra. “It was probably a reaction to you giving her an order.”

“What?” Edgar blinked, startled by the change in gears. “What was? What order?”

“The salute she did.”

“What order?” he repeated. Why was Locke so bad at the concept of context?

Locke turned and looked up at him. The smile spread across his face as it grew in to a real grin. “You don’t even realize you do it, huh.”

“Locke.”

“No, no it is hilarious! You order people around without even thinking about it. Just, say a thing and expect it to be done. Even when it is stuff like ‘take care of yourself’!” Locke finished in what could be nothing else but a mockery of Edgar’s manner of speech.

“I gave an order? What makes something an order?” he mumbled to himself, as he rubbed his face in exasperation.

Locke, of course, just laughed harder at him. “You are so used to people just doing what you tell them. Must come with the huge chair and the overly fancy headgear.”

“Overly-” He paused a moment before asking, “Locke, was there a crown in the packs?”

“No?”

Edgar hissed out a breath. “Dang it. If I had realized sooner I could have done something. It’s too late now.”

“What does it matter?” Locke asked as he looked up at him with a confused grin. “Not like it would be safe to have it on while traveling, and Banon’s not going to get confused on who you are.”

“That’s not…” Edgar frowned. “What do you think a crown is for?” he asked slowly.

“So everyone knows who the most special in the room is…?” Locke rocked back and forth on his heels with a shrug.

“So everyone knows who is in charge?” Terra answered as she walked over with the chocobos.

“Huh,” Edgar said intelligently, as he looked between them.

“Uh, I am guessing neither of those are what you were thinking?” Locke asked.

Edgar shook his head. “A crown is a sign of respect for those around you, it’s a mark of the land you belong to and a promise to the people who live there,” he quoted. “As far as I know, the meaning hasn't changed during the whole reign of the line Figaro. To meet a leader of any standing without one, would be considered a grave insult.”

“Huh,” Locke said, obviously surprised. “Well I guess that is what it means to Figaro monarchs, but I am not sure it has ever meant that to anyone else.”

Were people so unaware?

Was he?

It had never crossed his mind people would see his crown differently than the way he did.

“Oh well, Banon aint a king,” Locke said waving it off. “I am fairly sure he is common born. He might just take more insult to you having a crown than not having it.” He shook his head. “I mean, I have known you for years, and I always figured it was a posturing thing.”

“Well, that is rather distressing.” Edgar sighed as he dropped his head into his hands. “Any more of my world views you want to inform me aren't universal while we are on the topic?”

“I will let you know if I think of anything else.”

“Do so,” Edgar said honestly.

It was going to bother him. The question of how much trouble they had run into was because of things like this. Things no one bothered to say anything about because everyone thought the way they looked at it was the way everyone saw it.

Did it creep along and undermine things he had worked for- with the Returners, with Banon, with others?

How would he even know if it had?

“You got it,” Locke said with a laugh and a smirk. “I will gladly tell you when you are wrong!”

“Not sure I would put it that way.”

“Well, I would!” Locke crowed.

Terra giggled.

“Anyway, shall we head on then?” Edgar said exasperatedly. With a sharp turn, he continued up the path. It was only a moment before he heard the crunch of footsteps behind him.

As they made their way higher along the mountain, Terra and Locke talked behind him. Their exact words were lost to the wind and the sounds of talons on stone, but the tones were light, and good-natured.

Terra was already so much more present than she had been the first time they met. It was, at the time, rather awkward to have to introduce himself twice. Yet, now she could hold full conversations, with nary a skip in attention. Her fast and thorough recovery was like nothing he had ever heard of.

The only difference he could think of between the others and her, was magic. Perhaps, her healing abilities had begun to correct the damage on an instinctive level.

Edgar tapped the shaft of his spear against his shoulder, as he thought.

If it was the case that her magic made such a difference, then there may be some merit to using her cure abilities as a supplemental treatment for the people who, even after years, still suffered from the after affects. Of course, it would rely on the benefits being transferable.

He would have to send Locke to speak to Arvis about the possibility at the next opportunity.

The loud buzzing, paired with the shout of “Edgar!” made him throw himself to the side. As he rolled to a stop he realized a bird monster’s talons had nearly caught his shoulder.

With a screech, the bird circled, while two more of the large tusked monsters charged out from up the path and placed themselves between him and the others.

“Oh great!” Locke yelled, as he tried to move closer to Edgar. “Now we have to deal with two more of them!” Not able to find a way past the monsters, he shifted closer to the rock wall and pulled out some items.

“At least this time we have experience,” Terra said as she unsheathed her sword.

Edgar scowled as the large monster dug its claws into the path. The ground lurched, with a great crack of stone.

He tried to find his footing.

He had no footing.

Edgar slammed into the slope of the mountain, pain split the side of his head as he tumbled, no air left in his lungs to scream.

Everything spun and buzzed, uncontrolled and everywhere.

It took a moment to realize, he had stopped rolling.

He trembled, the world tilted and blurred as he forced his arms to push him up. A shaky, gasped, breath in seemed to clear out a bit of the darkness from his vision.

Everything hurt, but he wasn't dead.

So, yay.

Edgar did his best to glance around ledge he had landed on.

He squinted up at where he had been, his vision swam, the distance indistinct. It wasn't so far, he didn’t think.

The ledge had been good.

“Good ledge.” Edgar patted it with a trembling hand.

Nothing seemed broken, he didn’t think.

So, the armor was good too.

“Good armor.”

He tried to blink away the red stuff as it dripped into his eyes. It didn't really work.

Wait, was it blood?

Well, maybe his head was a little broken.

Locke would say it always was.

Edgar huffed out a laugh.

It made his head hurt worse.

So mean.

It was probably Locke’s fault.

Where was his Locke? His Locke should be here?

Edgar pouted.

He always missed his bestfri- his Locke when he was not around.

The large monster reared up over him, large clawed feet ready to stomp.

“Oh… that is probably bad,” Edgar admitted.

It was going to try and squish him.

Edgar pressed his hands down on the ground and narrowed his eyes at the monster.

He didn’t want to be squished.

No. No. He would not abide by being squished.

It would be terribly inconvenient.

A ring of light spun around the monster. The beams shot up from the ground, as lightning flashed out and struck it. Once it was over, the monster was dead.

“Oh good, that was helpful.”

Edgar promptly made the royal decision to pass out.

---

(Locke)

The claw swipe cut right through where Locke had been only a moment before. As he finished his roll, he tossed out a random skean in retaliation. He hissed, angry at himself, as water splashed against the gorgias.

The monster didn’t even break its stride as it charged.

Locke spun away as he dodged, forced further from the ledge Edgar had tumbled over. “Terra! C-can you see him?!”

Fire cut through the air, the winged monster was knocked off course, and slammed into the side of the mountain. Terra moved back towards the edge of the path and called out, “Edgar! Can you hear me?” She frowned. “He is on a ledge a bit down. I don’t think he heard me, it looks like he hit his head.”

“Right, ok,” Locke bit out, as he snatched a handful of skeans from his pouch. With quick flicks of his wrist he threw two fire skean and a lightning one in quick succession. He gritted his teeth, as the first two hit in glancing blows, and the third shattered against a rock.

“Kweh!” one of the chocobos chirped as it jumped down off the path, it dropped, only slightly slowed by the flutter of its wings.

With a determined, “Kweh!!” a second bird joined the first.

Locke jerked his head to the side as sharp claws passed right by his eye. With a roll further away, he shoved his hand into his pouch and tossed out another random skean.

Fire skean and fire magic collided, and staggered the monster a final time.

As the last monster finally fell, Locke ran, vaulted over the side of the cliff, slid down the slope and knelt. “Edgar! Can you hear me?”

Pale chirped, quiet and worried, as Locke pushed his wing out of the way to get a look at the damage.

There was so much red, too much red.

Locke’s hands shook, he ignored it as he reached out and set his finger tips light against Edgar’s neck.

He was just knocked out.

They could work with knocked out.

Locke would upend his entire inventory of items, if needed, to work with knocked out.

His hands made jerky movements as he yanked out his pouch and unfolded the fabric he kept wrapped around his Fenix Downs.

“Edgar?”

Terra’s soft voice made Locke jump, and his items slide out of his grasp, he glanced up at her as he fumbled them back into his hands.

She knelt beside him with a frown, then closed her eyes. Hands folded in front of her, around which light pooled and flowed, soft sparks danced between her fingers and into the air. As she pushed her hands forward, the light moved over and around Edgar as it glowed brighter. It swirled, settled, and faded out.

Locke went still. “Did it work?” he asked, voice weak. The Fenix feather still clutched in one hand.

Terra glanced over to him then back to Edgar. “I think it should have.”

Should have.

Locke swallowed the angry words, kept them sharp behind his teeth. To yell at her would do nothing, she didn’t know any more about what she could do than he did.

Perhaps, he should use the feather too.

Just in case.

Edgar groaned, turned his head, and blinked up at them. A groggy smile spread across his face. “Ah, what a treat, to wake up to such beauty,” he hummed out.

Locke huffed out a relieved laugh. “Well if he is feeling well enough to flirt, he is fine.” With a shake of his head, he put the feather back into its place in his pouch.

Edgar looked between them then to the three birds looking down at him. “Ah, what happened? I fell? There was a monster?” he muttered as he tried to push himself into a seated position. Pale shifted to try to support his back, with an almost chiding chirp.

Locke scowled as he grabbed Edgar’s arm to keep him from ending up flat on the ground again.

“I think I hit my head,” Edgar stated the obvious, as he wiped blood away from his eyes.

“Here,” Terra said, as more light pooled in her hands for a moment before she reached out and over to the wound on his head.

As the light faded, so did the cut and blood.

Edgar quickly sucked in a breath then slowly let it out. “That is much better.” Carefully, he stood, Locke still held on to his arm as he wobbled to his feet.

“And here I was so sure you said there would be no rock climbing,” Edgar said wearily as he looked up to where the path was.

“I said there shouldn’t be!” Locke snapped, harsher than he expected.

“Locke,” Edgar said, far too gently as he nudged him with his elbow. “Are you alright?”

“I am not the one who was hurt,” he said through gritted teeth.

Edgar just hummed like an asshole. “Well, what we need now is a plan to get back up. There is some rope in the packs I believe.”

It took some maneuvering, and some failures, but they managed to get all of them back up on the path.

Eventually.

Once they were finally on their way again, Locke kept himself behind the other two, to keep an eye on them.

He opened and closed his hands in a desperate attempt to still them.

It refused to work, they twitched anyway.

With jerky movements he pulled off his bandannas and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands. “I am finding you a Cherub Down,” he gritted out to Edgar’s back.

Edgar slowed to a stop as he turned to look back at him. “Locke, I am fine,” he replied so, so horribly gentle.

“I don’t care!” Locke snarled, as he lunged forward and grabbed Edgar by the front of his armor. With a yank he pulled him down, to his level, as close to eye to eye as they ever got. “I am going to find one! You are going to keep it on you at all times! Or I will shove it down your throat!” A sharp shake to the man, caused him to suck in a quick breath, Locke ignored it and continued, “You bashed your head in! You were barely breathing!”

“Locke,” Edgar snapped out, then took a slow breath. He reached up with a careful hand and wrapped it around the one clutched at his armor. “I am…” Hand tightened just a bit around Locke’s, as he continued, “Alright, when you find one, I will keep it on me.”

Locke staggered, wrong footed. All his rage just fell away in the face of Edgar’s quick agreement, and hand wrapped, warm and comfortable around his.

With a jerky nod, he let go of the armor and stumbled a pace away. “Right. Right good then!” he said, as he turned on his heel and started back up the path.

With a twitchy shake of his head, he tried to push away… everything.

Yet, it still buzzed and lingered, making a wretched home under his skin.

He hadn't meant to… do that.

With a sigh he rubbed his face, and glanced back as Terra said something to Edgar. Then slowed his gait down, just a bit, to make sure they were not too far apart.

Manhandling Edgar was…

Locke shook his head sharply yet again.

He was fine.

He was just twitchy over nothing.

He was.

Still it would be nice if people he cared about would stop being tossed from high places!

Locke swallowed as the images blurred between Terra and Rachel being unresponsive on cave floors.

Maybe he should get a stock of Cherub Downs.

Locke had a creeping feeling things weren’t going to get any less stressful any time soon.

---

(Umaro)

The Umaro’s claws tapped against the cold stone as he made his way forward as quiet as someone his size could.

There were humans in caves the humans did not go to.

He could smell them, he could hear them.

There were new monsters too. Ones like the humans kept, but not any of the types he had seen with them before.

He leaned over the ledge, and looked down into the area below him. The humans had cut out more space, this cave room was not so big last time the Umaro was here.

Large, four legged, long maned, monsters milled about in fenced off areas.

The Umaro had never seen any monsters like these kind before.

If they hadn’t been with the humans, he may have wanted to wrestle some of them for fun.

He ducked down lower as a few humans walked in with words.

Voices proud as they spoke about things the Umaro couldn’t understand. Even as he tried his best to make out what they meant, he just wasn't good with the human speak.

Best he could do was something about a test, and riding the monsters? Maybe a human named Dante?

The Umaro shook his head. It didn’t matter, he would just not go near the place again.

Maybe he should tell the Mog about it.

But, other than that, he would leave the humans to their things.

---

Chapter Text

Chapter 10 : The Differences Between

(Terra)

Terra slowed to a stop next to where a bush, made of less leaves and more twigs, clung to the edge of the cliff. Its roots coiled through stone, and whatever dirt it could find, to keep itself from tipping off into the open nothingness beyond. To keep itself from being dashed on the rocks, which waited so, so far below.

She took a deep breath.

There was something about being so high up, or maybe it was Mount Kolts in particular, which made it feel like something reached out and held her close. Like there was a warm presence draped over the whole of the Sabre mountain range sprawled out in rolling waves towards the horizon. As if when she breathed in the damp earthen air, the wind breathed with her.

Rye bumped her head against Terra’s shoulder, knocking her out of her thoughts. Pointing her beak at the others, who had gotten further than Terra had realized, Rye gave a soft chirp.

Not wanting to be left behind, Terra took one last look at the view, and turned to catch up with the others.

With a grin, Locke tossed an arm over her shoulders as she settled back in next to them.

The two men continued to talk between themselves, Terra content to let their voices drift by her as they walked.

Everything was calm and warm.

Which was much better than… well.

Everything which had happened after Edgar had fallen made her so confused. The feeling wasn’t really new, she had been surprised and baffled about many things since they left Narshe, but this was… jarring in a way she couldn’t quite place.

The strange light she had only caught a glimpse of had been startling enough. But Edgar’s behavior towards Locke after, was what felt like missing a step.

King Edgar was an oddly relaxed king. He let Locke get away with a great deal of things she was sure no one else in his position would ever allow. Jokes and the playful way they interact was one thing, but… Locke had grabbed King Edgar and yanked him over.

Locke had manhandled a King, and in response… got soothed for it, with calm and gentle words.

Only after things had calmed down, and it hadn’t happened, did Terra realize she had expected Edgar to backhand Locke for the audacity of the action.

Surely it had been crossing a line that was never to be crossed.

Rulers do not get manhandled, not by those who live.

Yet, Edgar didn’t seem even the least bit upset, and although Locke was still twitchy, he didn’t seem worried about punishment for the mistake either.

There was no tension, no anger, just…

Terra shook her head.

As curious as she was about why Edgar had allowed it, she knew better than to bring attention to such things and actually ask.

Questions about the odd light which had hit the monster, however, seemed a far safer place to deal with some of her curiosity.

“Edgar, I have a question,” Terra said, during a break in the men’s conversation.

“Oh? What is on your mind?” he asked, as he slowed down to walk next to her.

“Earlier, when you were down on the ledge, there was a weird light. What was it?”

“A light?” Edgar repeated with a frown.

“Yea,” Locke said. “It was strange, looked like beams and lightning or something.”

Edgar hummed and narrowed his eyes, staying quiet for a while as they followed the path into a cave. “Ah, I vaguely remember it,” he eventually said, face clearing. “It must have been a Blessing.”

“A… blessing? What is that? It looked like magic of some kind?” she asked.

“Its a-” Edgar started to reply, before cutting himself off to blink in surprise. “Magic? No. No, it isn't the same thing. However, I suppose it would look similar, if you didn’t know the difference.”

“Blessings are really weird,” Locke agreed. “Didn’t know you had one though?”

“I wasn’t aware either,” Edgar said with a shrug. “I do know they run in my bloodline though, and based on the information, it would make the most sense.”

“But, what is a blessing?” Terra asked again, frustration bleeding in to her voice.

“Well, it is a… blessing from an outside force of some kind. In this case it would be a last chance protection I suppose.” Edgar rolled his shoulders, stretching. “I had a great uncle who’s favorite weapons would get blessed with ice damage, if he used them for a few years.”

Terra had no idea what to make of any of that.

“Ah, you still look confused. What do you not understand?” Edgar smiled as he waved a hand for her to continue.

“Outside force? What outside force?” Terra said exasperated. “If the item is doing ice damage, then how is that not magic? And for that matter, what about monsters and the things they do? Or Locke’s throwing items!” The more she thought about it the less sense any of it made.

“Oh! Well, what outside force causes them is a topic which has been extremely heavily debated. Most of my teachers agreed there are probably a large number of different sources at work. Some are likely even from as far back as the War of the Magi,” Edgar clarified. “Someone got hit with a curse or a blessing and it just… kept going down the line, popping up every now and again in different ways.

“Then, some are also unusual personal reactions to exposure to something, an item, monster, or perhaps a place, they interacted with at some point,” he continued. “Some old items can just… do things. In addition to cursed items, there are also ones which can give people Blessings, if used long enough. There are even recorded cases of people who are attacked by certain monsters, being Blessed with the ability to use the monster’s attack.

“Faith, in some higher power or other, has also been known to cause people to gain healing or protective Blessings,” Edgar said before pausing a moment. “From what I understand, Banon has one of these.

“As for items.” Edgar motioned to Locke. “Like the throwing skeans, there are ways of locking elemental damage into an item. It takes a whole lot of skill, and specialized equipment, to forge weapons like those. You would have to ask someone who works in the field for more precise details. If they would even say. A lot of forging techniques are trade secrets. They refused to tell me when I asked.”

“What, seriously?!” Locke laughed.

Edgar nodded, pouting. “Anyway, as for monsters, their attacks are pulled from the earth, sky, and water… somehow. They are different than Blessings, but they aren't magic either. Unfortunately I can’t tell you more about them. I found the field to be… less interesting than others.”

“I don’t… understand,” Terra said, as she rolled the stone of her necklace between her fingers. “How is any of that different than what I can do!”

“Don’t worry about it too much.” Edgar patted her on the shoulder. “It is all very confusing. There are whole fields of study, whole specializations, on these things. A lot of disagreement about all of it too.”

“The Argument,” Terra whispered.

“Ah, yes, you talked to Figaro’s scholars didn’t you! Indeed, The Argument,” he said with a great deal of put on gravitas. “I can understand why you would think they are the same. There is enough of a visual rhyme between all of them to be very confusing. Basically put, Magic is cast from the core of a person. Blessings, items, and monster’s attacks just don’t work like that.”

Terra nodded slowly. She couldn’t place why most of what Edgar had said didn’t make sense to her. Something just seemed wrong about it… For now, she would take his words into consideration, and look more into her lingering questions later.

Maybe she would be able to spend some more time in Figaro’s huge library.

As long as there was less yelling next time.

Eyes barely adjusted to the light as they stepped out of the cave, Terra snapped her attention to the rocks above them. For a moment she could have sworn she saw movement.

“Ok! I have got it!” Locke said suddenly as his large grin slipped into pure mischief.

“Oh no, what do you have now,” Edgar bemoaned.

“Royal Shock!” Locke crowed.

“… What?” Edgar asked flatly. “What are you talking about?”

“Well you are Royal, there was lightning, and it definitely was a shock!” Locke said, grin growing.

“Are you trying to name my Blessing!? No!”

“Too late! It’s already named! Right Terra? You are with me, right?” Locke turned to her with wide, hopeful eyes.

Terra looked at Edgar for a long moment.

“Terra…”

“It is named,” she decided.

Locke hugged her. “Yes! Team ain’t no royal for the win!”

Edgar sighed, as he rolled his shoulders, stretching. “Oh, this will come back in the most aggravating way,” he mumbled.

Terra giggled.

---

(Edgar)

Edgar pulled his cloak tighter around him, in an attempt to ward off the temperature as it fell with the sun. At least the desert was a dry cold at night. This damp, green scented, chilled air was about as far from his home biome as one could get.

Worse, perhaps, was the aggravating ache in his chest; that just would not go away.

It reminded him of…

He shoved the memories away with a squaring of his shoulders.

The situation was likely not a real problem and would fade with rest, like… before.

However, if it wasn’t better by morning, he would have to talk to the Returners’ medic. There was always a possibility for something to have healed incorrectly, no matter what was used to cure an injury.

Locke walked not far off, his arm thrown over Terra’s shoulders. There was a delay to his movements, a stiffness, which was not usually present. Periodically, his hands twitched.

It was obvious Locke was still rattled.

“I am a desert child,” Edgar lamented in his most put upon whine. “Born of the flame and heat, why have I been forsaken upon the world to have to suffer this cold, damp, mountain wind?”

Locke choked on a laugh. “Oh no, are you missing your tea time?” His shoulders softened in his amusement.

“Very much so,” he said, as he kept his face as serious as he could.

“Kweh!” Rye squawked, as she jerked away from the path and flutter hopped off to the side.

The other two chocobo rushed to follow her lead.

“Do you see anything that could have spooked the birds?” Edgar asked, as he dropped the joking tone and scanned the area.

“Nothing new,” Locke said with a shrug.

“Well,-”

“You have done admirably to make it up this far!” a man, who seemed to have lost his shirt at some point, cut in from a top a rock. He looked down his nose at them as he stood, posing, his arm thrown out towards them dramatically.

Edgar tilted his head. Well, if they were to be interrupted yet again in their trip, at least it was with a nice view this time.

“But don’t think I don’t know Sabin sent you.” The man paused for a moment, turning his head so his long hair could blow in the wind, and gave them a smug look. “Now didn't he?”

“No one sent-” Edgar hissed out a breath as a strong cold wind slammed into him, and tossed all three of them backwards.

“No need to lie!” The man, who now stood where Edgar had been, laughed.

Never mind, view ruined by being insufferable.

“Seriously, who even are you?!” Locke snapped as he rolled himself back to his feet.

“Did you say Sabin? Is he here too?” Edgar held back a flinch as he stood.

“Don't you know better than to launch yourself into a fight with people you don’t know anything about!” Locke glanced over his shoulder at Edgar and Terra. “Wait, you were the one shadowing us earlier, weren't you?”

“And if I was? What do you plan on doing about it,” the man asked, as he motioned wide with his hand in a way he obviously thought made him look impressive.

“No one sent us,” Edgar said again, as evenly as he could manage. “We are just passing through.” He glanced over at Locke with a frown. Why in the world did Locke not tell him they were being followed?

“Hmph,” the man scoffed as he bounced on his toes. “Well, it doesn't really matter who you are anyway. I've got no plans to surrender!-”

Edgar leaned over to Locke and whispered dryly, “Did I miss the part where we threatened him? Or even showed any interest in him at all?”

Locke barely managed to swallow back a laugh.

“-Woe is the day you met me-”  the man, who still had not introduced himself, continued with what almost sounded like a rehearsed speech.

“Any ideas on who this guy is?” Edgar asked, as he shifted his spear to get ready for the inevitable fight.

Locke tilted his head back and forth before answering, “I am fairly sure he is one of Duncan's students. Vargas I think.”

“-And how unlucky it is that you have run into me...!-”  the man who may have been Vargas, continued, not seeming to have noticed no one was paying any attention.

“I have no idea what his problem, is though,” Locke said flatly as they watched Maybe Vargas make overly exaggerated motions during his speech. “There may be more than one.”

“…it'll be the last of your lives!” Maybe Vargas dropped into a fighting stance, but instead of attacking, made a string of high pitched whistles.

For a confused moment, nothing happened.

Two large, furred, creatures climbed over the nearby rocks, with a scraping of sharp claws, and charged.

“Ipooh? Really!?” Locke yelled as he dodged, hand shoved into his item pouch.

Edgar tossed himself to the side to duck out of the way of a claw swipe as he yanked out his crossbow.

Two flashes of flame, one magic, one an item, and the bears staggered back as the smell of burnt fur permeated the area.

“Call them back!” Terra yelled, fire still flashing in her palm.

“Come on! What's the matter?”  the man, Edgar still was not sure the name of, taunted with an over confident smirk.

Pressing her mouth in to a thin line, Terra dodged out of the way of a large claw. Edgar fired his crossbow at one bear, as Terra struck the other with her sword.

Both Ipooh fell, neither got back up.

“How dare you! You will regret killing my pet ipooh!” the man screamed.

“You’re the one who sent your pet bears after us!” Locke snapped.

“Bad pet owner!” Terra agreed.

“It matters not what you say!” The man shifted his stance. “You killed them, so in retaliation I'll send you to the great beyond!”  he yelled, as if it hadn't been his own fault for starting this mess.

“That's enough, Vargas! This fight is pointless!” another man yelled, as he vaulted over a rock and landed between them and the man finally confirmed as being Vargas.

“Ah, if it isn't Sabin! I knew you were around here somewhere! Sending others to fight me? How cowardly.”

“What are you talking about!? I didn’t send them! I came up here to talk to you myself! Did-” Sabin paused to take a shaky breath before asking quieter, “Did you really kill Master Duncan?”

Vargas twitched his head to the side. “Of course I did,” he said stonily.

“Why-” Sabin choked out. “Why, Vargas? Why did you kill Master Duncan? How could you kill your own father!?”

“He made his choice!” Vargas snarled out, emotion back in his face and voice. “The fool snubbed me,” he continued while hitting himself on the chest. “Me! his real son! His only son! He chose you as his successor!”

“That's not true!”  Sabin denied. “You were the one he chose! Our master-”

“You're a liar!”  he cut in with a shout. “It's true and you know it! It's written in that ugly sneer across your face!”

“He wanted you to be his successor, not me!”  His shoulders slumped as he continued much softer, “He knew you had the most potential…”

“I'm sick of listening to your lies!” Vargas yelled, voice shaking. “I've got far more than just potential! Why don't you see for yourself?”  In a burst of speed, he rushed towards them with a shouted, “Blizzard Fist!”

Icy wind slammed into the four of them. Ice shards sliced along any exposed area, leaving red painful marks along their skin as they were tossed back.

Once the attack cleared, Edgar hissed out a breath and moved to get back into a more defensive stance.

Terra glanced at Edgar as she righted herself. “Magic?” she asked waving her hand in Vargas’ general direction.

Edgar paused shaking his head. “Not really the time, but no, its marshal arts,”

“How is it different?” she mumbled to herself.

“I will deal with this. It is my fight,” Sabin said as he glanced back at them. “He is my responsibility.”

Edgar shifted barely swallowing the hiss of pain. “Very well,” he said simply, as he forced himself back away from the fight, motioning for Locke and Terra to do the same. Edgar kept his eyes on Vargas even as he caught the glow of healing magic, and the relief that came with it, from beside him.

“Ah, Sabin! My father was right to see so much in you!”  Vargas taunted.

“I guess there's no avoiding this…” Sabin said, as he moved into the same fighting stance Vargas had been using.

“Fate made us train together, and fate will send you to your doom! Now, have a taste of my superior technique!”  Vargas said self importantly as he charged towards Sabin.

Sabin pivoted, blocked the blow to his head, but staggered back from the hit to his side. Catching his balance, he threw back several punches of his own. All missed.

With a laugh, Vargas lashed out with a leg, forcing Sabin to jump back.

Stance reset, Sabin took a deep breath and let it out. His focused eyes settled on his opponent.

Vargas yelled, “Blizzard Fist!" as he darted across the distance Sabin had put between them.

Raising his arms, Sabin blocked the ice and wind from cutting into his face. Once the attack ended he dodged under Vargas’ guard, and landed a flurry of attacks.

“Uaaagh!” Vargas snarled as he staggered back, arm wrapped around his ribs. “You...already learned...that technique!?”  With a sharp shake of his head he continued, “This doesn’t change anything! You will pay for trying to steal my birth right!” Gaze bouncing from person to person, he began to back up then he darted towards the edge of the cliff. “This isn't over!” he yelled, as he vaulted over.

All four of them ran over to look down to where he had jumped.

He wasn’t there.

“Did anyone see where he went?” Edgar asked, as he scanned along the rocks below.

“Vargas...” Sabin sighed, as he stepped away from the edge. “If only you hadn't been so consumed by pride…” He shook his head continuing in a melancholy voice, “Was all the violence really because you thought you weren’t to be your father’s successor? All of this was just, so… pointless.”

“Sabin! I-” Edgar cut himself off. What was one even supposed to say under such circumstances?

“Ah… Big Brother?”  Sabin said, as he turned away from the cliff, an awkward smile across his face.

“Yea… Ah, you have gotten big.” Edgar just barely held back his flinch at the ridiculous statement.

He stared out over the cliff.

Great job Edgar, master communicator.

Sabin laughed, “Well, it has been a little while since we have seen each other.” He hit his hand to his chest. “I finally got my growth spurt!”

Edgar huffed out a laugh.

Then they just stood there… watching each other.

It was painfully obvious Sabin had as much idea of what to do in the situation, as Edgar did.

“Oh great, both of em,” Locke muttered with a roll of his eyes from beside Edgar. “Brother? What?! You're his twin brother!?”  he said loud, and in an incredibly fake, amazed voice. “No one would ever be able to tell!”

“Locke,” Edgar said flatly, as he rolled his head to look at the annoyance.

“The brothers are reunited!”  Locke obnoxiously crowed in response.

“His...brother?”  Terra said, drawing their attention. “At first, I thought you were another one of Vargas's bears…”

“You thought!? I was a… bear?”  Sabin tossed his head back and laughed. “That is great! I'll take that as a compliment!”  He glanced between them for a moment. “I obviously know Edgar, and I have heard of Locke in passing, but who are you?”

“I am Terra.”

“Ah! Terra! It is a pleasure to meet you!” He dipped his head with a large grin.

She blinked, startled, before responding, “Nice to meet you, as well.”

“Anyway…” Sabin glanced around, brow furrowed. “Edgar, what are you doing up here?”

“We're on our way to the Valley of the Sabre Mountains,”  Edgar said.

“If you are going to the Valley, why didn’t you take the lower path? And what happened to the rest of your escort?”

“The lower path was blocked by a rock slide, and I.” Edgar paused, before he admitted, “Well, I thought it best not to bring an escort for this trip.”

“Really? You still think you didn’t need one? Because, I did see you trying to climb up from that ledge.” He shook his head as he continued, “Most ridiculous thing I have seen on this mountain in a while!”

“You could have helped!” Edgar complained as he shoved Sabin. “It took forever to get back up!”

“And I laughed for every moment of it,” Sabin said, as he pulled Edgar into a hug.

“You used to be such a sweet boy,” he lamented.

“You misremember, brother.”

Locke choked on a laugh.

“You,” Sabin paused, shifted on his feet and continued softer, “You… didn’t actually bash your head open did you?”

Edgar cringed.

“Yea, a bit,” Locke said as he blew out a breath.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Terra tried to reassure in a whisper.

Sabin yanked Edgar close, pressing their foreheads together like they used to do in the middle of the night when one of them had a nightmare. “Be more careful.”

They stayed like that for a long moment.

Edgar sighed, as he reluctantly pulled away, and changed the subject. “A man from the Empire attacked Figaro Castle a few days ago. I doubt it was a planned thing, the man has a tendency to be unpredictable, however it does mark the point were Figaro will have to actively enter the war.”

“Ah! So you are headed to the Returners’ hideout then, no doubt?”

“Indeed. It seemed prudent, under the circumstances, to speak to Banon personally,” Edgar said simply.

“So, the wheels are finally turning... I've been watching from afar, hoping-” Sabin paused shaking his head before continuing, “hoping the world would come to its senses. The way things were going, I was afraid Figaro would end up as a puppet state,” he finished with a laugh which sounded rather strained.

Edgar flinched and looked away. “I…” He shook his head and looked back to Sabin. “A means of striking back has presented itself. There will be no more playing lapdog to the Empire… I'm through with that act. The Empire's going to pay for what it has done…”

“Well then, think a ‘bear’ like me could be of any help?”  Sabin asked as he started doing strange poses.

Terra laughed.

“You'd join us? Sabin...!” Edgar said, with more hope than he had felt in a while.

“I was already thinking about seeing what I could do to help. Wanted to get a bit further on my training before… well, doesn’t matter anymore, but I think-” He paused and continued quieter, “I think Master Duncan would rest easier knowing his training helped bring peace to the world.”

“We should make it to the Returners’ base tomorrow,” Edgar said softly, not knowing what else to say.

“I know a good place to set up camp for tonight,” Sabin said, with a bit of a stiff smile, as he motioned them to follow.

“Well then, let's get going!” Locke tossed his arm over Terra’s shoulders.

Edgar smiled as he watched Sabin lead the way.

A decade a part, and Edgar had never been able to quite break the habit of looking for his brother at his side. There had not been nearly enough time since their separation to over ride the 17 years prior when they were inseparable.

Even still, he hadn't actually realized how much the empty space in his life had ached.

His brother... Sabin.

It was a good name, suited him.

---

(Terra)

Terra laid on her back upon the tall rocks, as she traced her finger along the stars in the night sky. The memory of a much larger, warm hand wrapped gently around her tiny one played through her mind. ‘See here?’ the person in the memory whispered. ‘Right in the middle is the guide star. So as long as you can see the stars, you will always be able to find your way-’

It seemed like a good memory, so why did her chest ache with sorrow, and loss?

Sounds of laughter drifted up from the camp site below her. She rolled over and moved to the edge so she could see down to the alcove, which was lit in the warm glow of their campfire.

The chocobos were curled up together all roosted for the night, while Locke poked the fire with a stick, jabbing and prodding till the wood was settled in the way he liked. Off to the side, Edgar and Sabin sat against a stone, their shoulders pressed together as they talked in low tones.

Twins.

The lady in Figaro had mentioned as much.

After meeting Edgar, Sabin was… not what she had expected.

Edgar, with his surprisingly pale skin and golden blond hair, was mostly lithe strength. His agility and grace, paired with the fancy delicateness of how he dressed, made for a beautiful impression. He held himself with such a contained, deliberate softness, it successfully hid the sharp steel beneath.

With Sabin’s sun tanned skin, short scruffy beard, and sun bleached, rough cut hair, their similarities were almost covered by their differences. Sabin was a very large man, not only in height but in muscle mass too. Yet, despite the obvious sheer strength, and all the violent capability that came with it, there was an inherent gentleness to him.

Still, with them side by side, it was fairly easy to tell they were brothers. The same nose, same curl of their mouths when they smiled, the way their bright blue eyes seemed to dance to the same song when they laughed.

Terra crossed her arms under her chin, and closed her eyes as she settled down to enjoy the quiet company.

She let herself doze to the sounds of warm laughter.

---

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Things that Grow in the Cracks

(Cyan)

Empire soldiers, their uniforms a dark blight in the fog, ducked tree to tree as they crept towards Doma’s castle wall.

Cyan, up in the lookout, scanned over the disorganized group. “One shot,” he said in a whisper, as he motioned to the archer beside him. “Scare them off.”

With a thwack, the arrow stuck into the ground beside the boot of an Empire Soldier. They screamed, flailed back and tripped over the ones behind them. The whole group slid on the damp grass as they scrambled in retreat through the dissipating fog.

Invaders gone, the gentle quiet of morning returned.

Cyan leaned forward, with a soft click of his tongue, to study the area they had been moving towards. This spot seemed to be no more remarkable than any of the other locations they had tried similar maneuvers. Doma’s defenses had, of course, held strong thus far. However, he could not shake the heat of something wrong, breathing down his neck.

He shifted back with a sigh.

Attempts to gain more understanding, with nothing new to see, was a stressful waste of time. His efforts would be better focused elsewhere.

“Keep an eye on this area, in case they come back,” Cyan commanded the sentries. “I must report to King Doma.”

“Yes Sir!”

With a nod and a sharp turn, Cyan headed deeper into the castle towards the War Room. As he came up to the large double doors, he slowed his stride only enough to give time for the guards to push open the entrance. Voices from inside spilled out into the hall as he made his way through the doorway.

King Doma stood at the head of the large War Table. His eyes narrowed and sharp, he jabbed his finger towards the pile of documents before him on the table. Words to the Knights at his side drowned out by the two nobles halfway down the table who argued over something or other.

Cyan stopped at a respectful distance, and knelt.

“Oh! Cyan!” King Doma said immediately once he noticed him. “Come here! Come here and look at this!” he commanded, motioning to the papers upon the table.

“Yes, my lord,” Cyan said, as he rose to his feet, then strode to the table and settled in next to the King.

Sir Teak side-stepped to make space. “As I was saying, the most recent attacks don’t follow our original assessment.” He passed a stack of reports to Cyan, tapping the one on top. “Look, here they broke the pattern, makes me question if they were even using the plan we thought!”

“The pattern fits!” Sir Milly insisted.

“We can’t get so stuck in what we expect to see, that we miss what we are actually seeing,” King Doma reprimanded.

“Yes, Sire,” Sir Milly sighed. “But if we are wrong, then what are they doing? What are we missing?”

“They art testing…” Cyan clicked his tongue as he slid yet another report closer to him and compared the data. “The information is all over the place. It almost looks like the plan is… to think of a plan,” he mumbled to himself.

“Hum? Elaborate please, Sir Cyan,” Sir Teak said in amusement, plenty loud enough to draw the attention of most at the table.

Cyan straightened and looked up, his eyes darted between all the people who were suddenly looking expectantly at him. “Well, it almost seems as though they art experimenting. Poking at our defenses not just looking for weak points, but gathering intel on what they could anticipate about our reactions in order to counter act them.”

“Wait, you think… No, they couldn’t possibly have come here without a plan.” Sir Milly glanced to the people around her. “Right?”

King Doma hummed in thought. “It could easily explain the most unusual actions they have taken,” he decided. “Everyone! Put thought into both what they could be trying to achieve if they have a singular purpose, as well as to what we could be inadvertently teaching them about how we respond to threats. We will need extra back up plans in case the usual ones get circumvented,” he commanded the table.

“Yes, Sire!”

Sir Milly pinched the bridge of her nose, as she mumbled, “Lists, I will make lists.” She straightened and looked up at the King. “With your permission, Sire, I would like to ask my wife to go over the attack reports and our response plans.”

“Oh! Good idea, she has the oddest way of looking at things! Permission granted,” the King agreed immediately.

“Thank you, Sire,” she said with a bow.

The morning was quickly consumed, as the meeting continued with ideas and arguments up and down the table. Everyone desperate to find that one decisive key to winning the whole war.

Cyan shifted the paper in front of him. The report had been reduced to an unrecognizable smear in his vision, he shook his head and blinked trying to make words materialize.

It worked.

Almost.

“Cyan,” his King said, as he pulled the vexing thing out of Cyan’s hand and laid it on the table. “How long have you been awake?”

“I slept a couple hours, yesterday morning, my lord.”

“Over a full day ago then?” the King huffed out a fond laugh. “Go, rest, spend time with your family, then come back with fresh eyes,” he ordered, as he tossed his arm over Cyan’s shoulder.

“I am al-” Cyan began, before he realized what he was going to say, and snapped his mouth shut. “Yes, my lord. As thou say,” he replied instead.

“Yea! Go get some sleep! You are making all of us exhausted just looking at you!” Sir Teak said. “And unlike you, most of us actually slept last night!”

His King laughed as he pulled Cyan closer for a moment, then let go. “Off with you now. I expect not to see you until after dark,” he commanded.

Bowing deeply, Cyan backed away from the table and left the War Room. The sounds of arguing followed him out the door and a good number of steps down the hall, before the thick doors snapped shut. He almost staggered in the sudden silence.

As he headed home, his steps echoed sharp along the nearly vacant corridors. Flower vases lined the walls, empty and bereaved, while the distinct lack of children's playful shouts was far too loud in its absence. Sweet scents of morning breads, long since a staple of his day, no longer drifted in prevalence through the castle. Careful ration allocation left little room for the lighter treats.

Since the start of the siege a stillness had began to gnaw at the whole castle and everyone in it.

Like they were all braced for the worst.

Unease still dug into him, Cyan pushed open the door to their rooms, and trudged inside. “Anyone home?” he asked as he shoved the front door closed again.

Their home was far too quiet in its emptiness.

He shook his head, and still checked the rooms for his family as he passed them on his way towards their bedroom.

Armor pulled off and hung in its place, he changed into his home robe and walked to the bed, where he stood, staring at the promise of soft comfort and sleep.

His eyes burned.

His soul ached.

There had to be an answer to what the Empire was up to. If he could just get the right perspective-

“Oh dear,” the treasured voice said, from behind him. “Is my love being over worked again?”

“The King doth not over work me!”

“Oh, come now, husband!” Elayne leaned up, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I would never imply such a thing! We all know his orders are the only reason you take any time off.” With a soft tug, she pulled his shoulders down and kissed him on the temple.

“I would gladly work as long as needed in service to the protection of Doma,” Cyan vowed.

“So he did send you home, didn’t he,” she said, her laugh a soft snow flurry against the pain and aching heat in his chest.

Even as Cyan huffed and his cheeks warmed, for the first time all day, his soul eased, and he could breathe.

“Do you think you can sleep? Or would you rather help me with my project for a while?”

“I fear I am in no condition to rest,” he admitted, as he reached up to intertwine their fingers. “Either way, it is always an honor to assist thee in any of thy tasks.”

Elayne smiled up at him as she pulled his hand down and gifted him with yet another kiss. “Such a charmer I got.” She tugged him lightly by their interlinked fingers as she laughed, happy and light like the morning dew.

Cyan followed in her wake to the main room, and sat at the table covered in baskets of fabric, wire, and some other things he was unsure of what they could possibly be.

“I think I have managed to collect enough supplies!” She pulled her chair right next to his, a beautifully made silk flower between her fingers. “Once we have used up all of this, we should have enough flower bunches to fill all the empty vases which line the halls.”

Slow and patient as the river, she taught him and his clumsy fingers to make the delicate little blooms. Together they turned scraps into beautiful bouquets which, like his love, could never wilt.

Cyan’s eyes still burned but for the first time in days, his heart rested.

---

(Mog)

Mog was a fully grown and, if you asked him, reasonably wise moogle. There had been many difficult things he had dealt with over the course of his life, both good and bad. In the processes he had learned; one of the most valuable things in the world was a second opinion you could trust.

So of course he chirped out a happy, “Kupo!” and fluttered around Molulu, his beloved, when he finally found her.

Paw swatting at him playfully, she laughed as he circled around her. “Ku! Kupo!” she chided. Her paw darted out, grabbed his foot and yanked him to a stop. As he hovered in front of her, she motioned to him, spun her paw down then placed it on her chest, “Kupo?”

Mog nodded, he had been looking for her! With a joyful squeak he leaned forward and booped their pompoms together as he landed. Paw towards her, he flicked it towards himself, then away from both of them. “Ku, po?”

She crossed her paws over each other, then pulled them back to her chest still crossed. “Ku,” she purred.

Pompom bouncing happily, Mog squeaked as he mirrored the action. Oh how he loved his Molulu, he too would follow her anywhere. With a full spin, he turned and they headed out of the Home Den.

The flight through the tunnels and branches of the cave system was quick, and soon they were heading into the human territories. Even before they rounded a last corner, the temperature had already started to drop far too fast to be caused by anything other than the influence of magic.

Mog landed and pointed his paw at the large winged serpent which was frozen in place inside an even bigger chunk of magic Ice. The esper’s wings were wrapped around themselves protectively, even as their claws were out stretched. It was as if they were stopped in the middle of a fight. He did not want to face whatever force could take on such a large and obviously powerful being, and win.

However, it wasn’t the esper he had left to get Molulu about, it was the humans who milled around the whole area as they discussed the best way to deal with getting the Ice moved.

They weren’t any farther along on the processes than when Mog had left.

One of the humans moved to the side and the torch in their hand shone oddly on the Ice. With shouts, all the humans scattered away.

Well, he couldn’t really blame the group, if the Esper was from the Old War, they probably didn’t like humans all that much.

Molulu frowned, “Ku?” she asked with a confused motion to the humans.

Mog shrugged, then put one paw out at the humans, then the other, threw them up in the air swirled them and pointed both at her. He didn’t know what they were thinking either, that is why he just left to get her.

With an exasperated sigh, and a poofed pompom, she tilted her head towards an alcove farther away from where the Esper was.

Mog nodded, as the humans inched towards to the Ice chunk again. It was probably best they move further away, to give the humans more space.

Who knew what skittish humans would end up doing.

“Oh!” a voice said. “Hi moogles!” An elder human made their way along the wall towards them with a grin, while staying as far as possible away from the esper. “Here to watch the show too?”

Mog nodded, while Molulu shrugged and motioned to Mog.

“Got drug along, eh?” The human laughed, crossed their arms and leaned against the rocks next to them. “Oh! I am Lilace.”

Mog bobbed his head.

“Don’t go telling anyone I was here though, my grandkids would have a fit.” Lilace sighed. “Still, seemed like a good idea to come here and over see this,” they paused, waved an arm towards the cave before finishing, “personally.”

Finally convinced it was safe, the other humans poked their heads into the area and crept back towards the Ice. They then went right back to their discussions about how to go about moving the esper. As their voices got louder the more the whole area seemed to buzz with magic. Mog wasn’t sure the humans even noticed.

Eventually they agreed on something and tossed ropes around the esper. Another small argument broke out about how to tie them, and yet another on how to move the Ice to get it on the large cart.

Lilace huffed out a heavy breath.

Odd colors started to flash slowly over the Ice while Mog and Molulu’s fur stood on end. As the humans argued louder, the lights shimmered brighter and faster. The shadows around the cave moved and shifted in ways which should not have been possible in non-magical light.

Lightning flashed out from the Ice, and with a loud crack it crashed against the wall. Screams filled the air as the humans scrambled and tripped in their effort to bolt out of the area. The knocked over equipment landed in crashing heaps and screeched along the stone as it spun.

Electricity flickered over the Ice for a moment more.

Then everything went still and calm.

Molulu, her eyes wide and worried, squeaked.

Mog nodded, both of their fur was completely fluffed.

The humans should definitely not mess with the Esper Ice.

Lilace blew out a breath, as they straightened up from the cringe they had dropped into. “See that is why I was saying it was a bad idea to try to move it.” Hand trembling, they gripped the front of their thick coat. “At least it seemed to be inert before the whole chew up heavy equipment incident! But it isn’t any more.”

Mog tilted his paw back and forth before motioning to the esper.

“Are you asking… why… move it?” Lilace asked slowly then shrugged when Mog nodded. “Well, the argument was mostly to move it away from where the miners are digging. However, I am fairly sure Dacket was mostly using that angle to get Haroun’s vote, since those armors having gone right through Narshe is a much bigger concern. They caused so much death and destruction, I don’t-” they cut themselves off. Fingers tapping against the stone behind them, they continued, “If it is moved, then perhaps anyone… else who wants the thing would at least have to go around the city.”

Molulu hummed unhappy, “KU!” she griped her paw tight, palm down as she held it out, lowering it, she slowly opened her fist till her paw was open and her arm all the way down, “...po” She looked back up to the human.

“Sorry, uh, I don’t have any idea about that one,” they said, voice soft as they confusedly repeated the motion Molulu had done.

Mog couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. It was morbidly funny to see someone repeat ‘the painful grief for the dead’ over and over while just looking baffled.

Molulu nodded repeating the grief motion then pointing to the Esper Ice and making a scooping motion. With a soft “Ku, Kupo,” she placed her hand on her chest.

She was right, the Esper Ice was dangerous. If left where it was, more people would end up hurt. Protection of life was more important than any petty dispute between moogles and humans.

It needed to be moved.

And if the Esper didn’t like humans, well, it was unlikely they would have the same problem with moogles.

“Kupo!” Mog said, to get the human’s attention, then pointed to himself and Molulu, and made a scooping motion at the esper.

Lilace looked back and forth between them and the Ice for a moment. “Oh! You want to help move it!”

Both Mog and Molulu nodded. “Kupo!”

The main problem would be the size of the Ice. It was very large, and moogles were very small. Even asking for volunteers, it would take a lot of them to be able to handle such a large object.

Oh!

Or Mog could get Umaro to help!

---

(Shadow)

“Bra-” Shadow choked, the rest of the name lodged sharp in his chest as he startled awake. Breath too quick, back still pressed to the corner, he scanned the tiny room of the inn.

All the traps still lay unsprung, there was no movement.

There was no one.

‘...how could you...?’  whispered the dream.

Interceptor whined softly as he pressed his cold nose against Shadow’s neck.

With a sharp shake of his head, Shadow pushed the dream away, Interceptor off his lap, and himself to his feet. The couple of hours of sleep he managed to get would be enough for the job.

He dismantled the traps, picked up what little else he had set about, and left.

‘I was your partner...’

The voice echoed in his head as he made his way towards the center of Vector. He weaved through the lower town’s cracks, crevices, and tired workers. People in the poor areas having long since learned what was not worth the effort or risk to notice.

High town gleamed in contrast as he made his way down their undamaged roads. Its self serving people had little more concern towards him than to sneer at who they thought of as nothing more than the help.

The soldiers of Vector’s Core, knew better than to block his path.

His intentional, heavy steps echoed loud down the metal corridor. Yet, still, they were unable to drowned out the voice in his head.

‘You should be here with me...’

With a sharp turn, he strode into the research and development department, and down the hallway to the contact’s office. As he stepped into the room, the contact sat hunched over some device, screw driver in her hand and another tool between her teeth.

“The delivery?” he said, after a moment.

Both tools clattered as they hit the ground when she jumped from her chair. “It will be just a bit longer!” she squeaked.

“I can wait.” Shadow huffed out an annoyed breath, and moved to wait by the wall. Interceptor leaned heavy against his legs.

‘Join me…’

He managed not to twitch at the imagined words.

Shadow wouldn’t stick around any longer than the job dictated.

---

(Umaro)

The Umaro was so big, and the Mog, and the Molulu were so small, they had to fly high to talk eye to eye. So they wouldn’t tire their tiny wings, the Umaro crouched to be lower to the little flying ones.

He tapped his claws on the stone ground of Home in a nice, tap tap tap as he sat watching them talk to him.

The Mog was smart, and a good friend. He had learned some human from some where, so he used both human and moogle, to try to talk to the Umaro.

The Umaro tried his best, but was not sure what they needed. Maybe moving a thing because they were so tiny and the Umaro was very not tiny?

“I boss! You help!” the Mog said, pointing a small paw at him.

The Mog always helped others when there was a way for him to help.

Wanting to be as kind as his friend, the Umaro bounced his whole body. “Yes! You boss! Me help!”

“KUPO!” The moogles tossed their paws in the air!

“Ughaaa!” The Umaro tossed his paws in the air!

The Mog landed on one of his shoulders, the Molulu on the other, they gripped the Umaro’s long white fur as he stood up. It was good, that way tiny friends wouldn’t fall, and all he had to do was follow pointed directions.

Easy.

Simple was good, words was hard.

The moogles and the Umaro spoke different.

Humans and the Umaro spoke different.

Everyone and the Umaro spoke different.

Following paw points, they quickly ended up in the human’s caves.

He stopped, only went again when the Molulu patted his shoulder.

The humans had been there not long ago, but had left. It made him relax a bit.

There would be no humans yelling at him, throwing things.

As they entered into a large area there was a hum of magic. He stopped, growled, confused at the esper inside the magic ice. The Umaro had not known there was an esper in the caves.

The Mog motioned with his paws. “This!”

Oh! Moving the esper?

He nodded.

He could do that.

“Hello?” he asked, tapping his claw on the large piece of magic ice in a tap tap tap. “Ok if pick up?”

They did not say.

They must have been asleep.

Normally the Umaro would not move people when they were asleep, but the Mog seemed to think it was needed.

He trusted the Mog.

The Umaro would just pick them up gently.

Hopefully they would not be scared to be suddenly in a new place.

---

(Sabin)

Sabin grinned as he ran at the gor-whatever, grabbed it by its ridiculous tusks, and flipped it hard on to the ground. He jumped away with a laugh, as Terra did her fire thing, and Edgar did his jumpy spear thing.

The monster didn’t stand a chance.

“Ah, man, fighting with you lot is fun!” Sabin said, as he rolled his shoulders and bounced on his toes.

“So, do you just, pick up monsters like that often?” Locke asked.

“Well, yea! Suplex is one of my favorite moves. It is great fun to slam monsters on to the ground! The bigger they are, the more confused they look!”

“What other moves have you learned?” Edgar whistled for the birds, and motioned with his head for them to start walking again.

“Most of the training is strength, agility and how to give and take a hit. Past that, there are three main moves Master D-” Sabin swallowed and waited for the pain to ease. When it didn’t, he continued anyway, “Well… all three focus on different areas one needs to learn to be proficient. ‘Suplex’ requires being able to analyze an opponent’s balance and such. ‘Aura Cannon’ takes being able to completely focus. For ‘Raging Fist’ one has to be in control of their anger. Without control of your anger, the ‘raging’ part of the move, would easily get out of hand.

“Vargas… as you could probably tell,” Sabin continued, “never really got a handle on his rage, so he never mastered it.” Sabin, embarrassingly enough, only managed to learn it recently himself. “It is why those three are considered base moves. Once you have those three areas down you can really start branching out to more complicated things.”

“Sounds like a solid tactic,” Edgar said.

“Can you do that Blizzard fist thing Vargas did?” Terra asked.

“Ah, no. He invented that move himself. We are expected to come up with one of our own eventually, I hadn't known Vargas had finished his yet. Maste-” he stuttered to a stop. “He- he always teach-… taught-” with a hiss he cut himself off again. He took a deep breath, then let it out before continuing softer, “He always taught us; we should be able to put his teachings together into something which resonated within ourselves, before learning other people’s moves.”

“Have you made one yet?” Edgar asked gently.

“Oh! Yea, I finished it a while back. It is called ‘Fire Dance’, if we get in to another fight I can show you!” Sabin tried to force all the sadness from his grin, and immediately changed the topic.

The group chatted as they continued on down the path towards the valley. All the while Sabin kept an eye on Edgar with relief. Whatever had made his brother move so stiffly the day before seemed to have thankfully cleared up after they got some rest.

“So now what? Where are we headed from here?” Sabin slowed down with a small skip to his step as they moved into the valley.

“It depends on how we want to approach the base,” Locke answered as they all slowed to a stop.

Edgar turned towards Locke expectantly, then sighed. “Elaborate please,” he said with slow enunciation.

“Well, we can send out a meeting alert, or just show up at their door.” Locke shrugged. “Like I said, depends on how you want to play it.”

Edgar’s brows furrowed as he asked, “Do they know, that you know, where the Returners’ base is?”

“Nope.” Locke grinned and bounced on his toes.

“You are telling us,” Sabin said between gasping laughs. “They didn’t tell one of their information runners some information, then expected someone who gathers information to just… not gather information?” He had to place his hands on his knees, to keep himself from losing his balance from how ridiculous the whole thing was.

Terra tilted her head, a small amused smile on her face. “That does seem like something they would either make sure you knew, or make sure you didn’t know.”

“One would think,” Edgar said dryly. “Locke, what are the expected out comes of both actions?”

Locke hummed in thought for a moment, before answering, “Well, sending out an alert could take a while depending on Banon’s location. Then all the time spent arguing about going back to the base.” He shook his head. “Showing up at their door would likely make them skittish, but would cut out all of the possibly hours of back and forth. I doubt it would turn into an actual fight, as long as we don’t pick one, but it definitely would put them on the defensive.”

“I see,” Edgar said distractedly, as he laced his fingers together.

For a moment, all Sabin could see was their father, fingers intertwined as he deliberated about the latest this or that for Figaro. Thumbs tapping together, as he went over points and counter points for whatever proposal had been brought before him.

Edgar’s expression shattered the resemblance, their father never had such a cold, calculated, and closed off look to him.

“We will head directly to the base,” Edgar declared, startling Sabin out of his thoughts.

“Works for me!” Locke said. “So, quick question, are we taking a break to fix your hair?” he asked looking pointedly at Edgar, while almost managing to suppress his smirk.

“Is it that bad?” Edgar touched his hair with an aggrieved sigh. “Oh, it probably is that bad…”

Sabin laughed, as he actually took the time to look at the knotted ribbons, and straggly braids. “Don't worry brother! It is probably the nicest hair this mountain has ever seen!”

“I don’t have my crown or even a circlet! The least I can do is have presentable hair!”

“You don’t have?” Sabin started with a frown. “Ah, well, it will probably be fine,” he said dismissively. “Yea, sure, it is traditionally rude, but it isn't like most people see it as important anyway.”

“I have been informed,” Edgar grumbled, as he started to take down his hair. “Oh!” he said suddenly with a glance over to Sabin. “How do you want to be introduced?”

“Sabin is fine,” he said slowly.

“Just Sabin?” Edgar asked as he stopped his attempts to unknot his hair, and looked up at him.

Sabin nodded.

Being introduced as one of Mast-… as one of his students was…

Sabin pushed the ache away yet again.

It didn’t go far.

Edgar watched him, lips pressed in a tight line as if he kept something hidden, bitten back behind his teeth. “Very well then,” he said, voice curt as he headed back down the path with a crisp turn on his heel and his attention back to his hair.

Intentional, slow steps kept Sabin lagged behind the group as he followed.

Locke, after a quick detour to the chocobos, walked up to Edgar and said something as he waved a hairbrush in Edgar’s face. They continued walking side by side, voices soft, as Edgar finally managed to work out one of the ribbons from his hair.

Sabin didn’t know what was up with the two of them. Most of what he had heard about Locke was not particularly reassuring.

But, if his brother trusted Locke, then Sabin would trust his judgment.

It seemed like Locke had known who Sabin was, even though they hadn't interacted much before. Perhaps it wasn't particularly hard. He does look rather like his brother, just tanner, and more rugged, and bigger, with a beard, and… really he wasn't sure how much they looked alike anymore.

No one but Elinor had ever called him on it…

Oh…

Had anyone even told her about… her husband…

He should be back towards South Figaro in a few days. It could wait until after they met with the Returners. She would be upset about the delay but, also understand not being able to leave his brother under the circumstances.

Between Edgar, and Terra, they managed to get all of the long, ridiculously worried about, hair out of its predicament. Then, after a short break, got it back up into an overly complicated, braid, twist, ribbon, shiny clip, monstrosity.

“See, this is why I now keep my hair just long enough for a tail in the back, and short every where else,” Sabin said with a shudder. As traditionally important as they were, the fancy royal braided styles were never anything but a nuisance. “All of that is far, far too much work.”

“Your hair looks like you cut it with a not particularly sharp rock,” Edgar said flatly.

“Hey! It was sharp!”

Edgar buried his head in his hands, it almost blocked his soft laugh.

Sabin grinned.

No matter what had happened in all the time between, he could still make Edgar laugh.

“Alright,” Edgar said with an exasperated smile in Sabin’s direction. “Lets get going, I don’t want to arrive after dark.”

Despite Edgar’s declaration, the shadows of the mountains around them had lengthened and covered the valley by the time Locke motioned towards where the base was supposed to be.

Sabin glanced around the area with a frown. “You’re sure the entrance is around here?”

Locke nodded as he pointed in a seemingly random direction.

Edgar sighed as he narrowed his eyes at the rocks, which looked like all the other rocks. “This isn't one of those complicated puzzle ones is it?” he asked, voice almost hopeful.

“No,” Locke said as he shook his head with a laugh. “Unless you count optical illusions to be puzzles.”

The group rounded a corner, looped around a rock, ducked under an outcropping, and suddenly there was an entrance.

With a door on a hinge and everything.

They paused for a moment, before Edgar just shrugged, walked up, and knocked on the out of place door.

Quick, muffled, probably not as quiet as they would have liked, talking came from the other side for an awkwardly long moment, before a voice called out louder, “Who is it?” Promptly followed by more furious arguing too muffled to make out.

“King Edgar, of Figaro,” Edgar enunciated.

The people argued some more, before the door was finally yanked open. “King Edgar! Nice of you to drop by…?” the woman said, her voice strained. “We weren’t expecting you?”

“Forgive me for the unannounced arrival,” Edgar said diplomatically. “The original intent was to speak with the emissary stationed in South Figaro. However, they seem to be missing. I do hope they are here, and not actually misplaced, or worse.”

The door woman shifted, pushing a dark coil of hair back out of her face. “They arrived here safely, but were unable to return.”

“I understand, the tunnel collapse also hindered our travel,” Edgar agreed easily.

“Yes, uh I will show you to Banon! This way, please,” the woman said a touch too loud.

“Of course,” Edgar agreed readily.

“Take care of the chocobos,” she hissed to a young man nearby, then with a shaky nod she turned and led them deeper into the cave system. The few people they passed seemed to be standing around randomly in the whisper quiet base.

“Here,” the woman said, as she opened a door and led them into a chamber being used as an office.

“Leader Banon!” Edgar strode easily in, and then over to one of the two people already inside. “It is nice to finally be able to meet you face to face.” He stopped a bit away and dipped his head slightly.

“King Edgar,” Banon said simply.

“My companions,” Edgar continued after a moment. “Sabin, Locke, and Terra,” he said as he motioned to each in turn.

As the silence drug, Sabin glanced to the door woman and the other person who still stood next to Banon.

“Why are you here?” Banon asked with a furrowed brow.

“I am sure you have heard about Kefka having attacked Figaro Castle,” Edgar said, stepping over the botched introduction etiquette.

“Yes, a runner relayed the information a couple days ago,” Banon agreed.

“Terra was the one who was freed after the incident in Narshe. The attack on my castle, was seemingly prompted by Kefka being convinced Terra was there. I haven't had the chance to determine where he obtained such information, or if it was merely a guess,” Edgar said tightly. “She agreed to meet you so, we brought her with us.”

“So, this is the girl… The one to whom the esper responded,”  Banon said, tilting his head as he looked her over.

“The esper…?”  Terra whispered as she took a step away from the prying eyes.

“Yes. Unfortunately, because of the crown, Terra can’t remember anything about it.” Edgar shook his head. “It seems the Empire had complete control over her for who knows how long.”

“I spoke to Arvis, and other than that carrier pigeons have kept me informed,” Banon said, his attention aimed unwavering on Terra. “I also heard that she wiped out fifty Imperial soldiers in mere minutes…”

“No,”  Terra staggered back arms wrapped around herself. “that’s- that's not...!”

“Terra!”  Locke rushed to her side.

“Banon!” Edgar snapped out, moving himself between Terra and Banon as Locke tossed an arm around her. “She doesn’t remember anything!”

“Hiding from the truth won't change it!”  Banon insisted, as he took a bold step to the side trying to get around.

Edgar stepped over and blocked him again. “Be that as it may,” he said, hand tightening around his spear.

Banon paused, stepped back and gave a slight nod. “Perhaps you've heard this story before?”  he said much softer. “Once, when people were still pure and innocent, there was a box they were told never to open.”  He kept away but moved to the side to look past Edgar. “But someone went and opened it anyway, unleashing all the evils of the world. Pride… envy… greed… violence… wrath… control… The only thing that remained in the box was a single ray of light: hope.”

Terra frowned as she blinked at him.

“Your power is a gift, not a curse.”  Banon smiled back at her. “No matter what happens, you must remember that. You are this world's last ray of light… our final hope.”

Edgar narrowed his eyes as he snapped out, “Banon!”

Banon paused yet again and took another step back. “I've grown weary with the hour... Allow me to rest for a while,”  he eventually said.

“Come on then, a rest would do us all good,” Locke said softly to Terra. With narrowed eyes at Banon, he led her out of the room.

Once the door clicked shut, Edgar rounded on Banon. “What was that,” he asked flatly.

“What was what? I was only trying to-”

“I know what you were trying to do!” Edgar snapped. “She is confused and stressed! If you use her condition to pressure her into joining, we are no better than the empire she just got away from!”

“We are completely different!” Banon insisted. “How can you even-! You have seen what the Empire does! A bit of soft persuasion is nothing in comparison! Doesn't even compare to the things you have done!”

Edgar’s face closed off. “Perhaps, but I also know how not to treat a lady.”

Banon scoffed.

“Good night, Banon,” Edgar said curtly, suddenly seeming completely exhausted, he turned on his heel and left.

The door closed behind him with a solid thud.

Banon ran his fingers through his hair while the other two exchanged frowns.

“Well, now I just feel awkward,” Sabin said rocking back and forth on his toes.

The three jumped and looked over at him.

Banon laughed, a heavy stressed sound. “How did you even end up with them?”

“I ran across them climbing the mountain, figured I didn’t have anything else going on,” he hedged.

“Well, explains how they got here at all,” the woman said.

“Doesn’t explain where the King’s escort went though,” the other person added.

“Look, Banon,” Sabin said as he moved to stand next to the man. “Terra is kinda… not so great off right now. If you push her you are probably gonna lose her.”

“You agree with King Edgar,” Banon said carefully.

“Yea, he is a smart guy, you should listen to him,” Sabin agreed. “I am going to catch up with the others,” he said turning to leave. He paused with the door half open and glanced back. “Ah, also, next time maybe introduce your people?” he added awkwardly before stepping out the door.

---

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: Reasons to Fight

(Celes)

Despite the lit fireplace and sconces along the walls, the room was not particularly bright. Celes tapped her fingers against the hilt of her sword as she looked out over the gaudy ‘main entertainment room’ and the battalion of soldiers stood in the middle of it. All of them were lined up in proper, square, standardized lines.

And then there was Kefka.

“We will be moving out shortly,” Celes said as she neared the end of her speech, doing what she could to ignore the bright blight of color among the rows of Empire military standard brown. “I remind you, our goal is to take over South Figaro with as few deaths as can be managed. Both theirs and ours, so stick to your orders precisely. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Sir!” the crowd saluted.

“Dismissed,” Celes snapped.

She waited a moment as the soldiers dispersed, then took two quick steps off the raised platform, before heading towards the towering windows and their ridiculous curtains. What kind of person thought it was a good idea to have such distasteful things embroidered in gold? The fabric was stiff under her fingers as she pushed it away from the window just enough to see the stars.

With a huff, she let the drapes fall closed again, and pressed her lips together in an attempt not to sneer at the place she was being forced to use as a temporary command center. It was probably a good thing the room was so dim, it helped mute the horrible decor, and did a reasonable job of hiding the gold gilding which infested every furnishing.

Celes turned towards the Commander who wavered nearby like a child. “Report.”

“General Celes, Sir!” He saluted. “Our infiltrators have all checked in and are standing by. Most of the teams are ready, only team 9 is still missing conformation on the South Figaro wall guard rotation, but the information should be available shortly.”

“What is the hold on the guard rotation?”

He shifted, undisciplined, on his feet. “We were originally told there would be no guards on the wall by this building, but they adjusted the roster. The people who were paid off, are no longer the only ones assigned.”

Celes ground her teeth, while being careful to keep her expression neutral. “Get it fixed! Failure will not be tolerated.”

“Yes, Sir!” He saluted, and scampered away.

Lack of such information was a small stumble, but with it being so early in the operation, it could bode ill for the rest of the plan. If they had a proper amount of time to set up these things it would be less of a concern, but, rushed or not, the Emperor would accept nothing less than a full success.

Celes bit back a sigh as the one who caused this mess skipped towards her.

Kefka spun between and around the soldiers, making a great game of crossing a room.

That man was vastly more of a liability than any intel issue could ever be.

Once he realized she was watching him, he lifted up a hand and wiggled his fingers at her in a wave, like he had forgotten she was no longer a little kid. He stopped right next to her with that horrible grin which had become his usual one. “As few deaths as can be managed,” he mocked, voice pitched low as to not carry.

“Kefka,” she greeted, quiet and sharp. “The goal is to take over, there is no reason for unnecessary blood shed.”

“Pish posh!” he said in a sing-song and scoffed. “The point is to make sure they know their place! The more blood on the ground, the better they know what will happen… if they disobey.”

She set her jaw, and gritted out, “It doesn’t matter what you think about it. I am in charge of this operation.”

“Aww aww aww, no reason to get mad, Little Star!”

“Stop calling me that! You don’t get-” She hissed out a breath.

“Oh, my mistake,” he muttered, still with that infuriating grin. “Just offering you my thoughts.”

“If I want your opinion, I will ask for it!” she bit out keeping her voice as quiet as she could. “You are the one who tried to burn Figaro down, and only succeeded in causing this operation to be a rushed one! You could have at least accomplished getting rid of that fool of a king! But no! You couldn’t even do that.”

“I was trying to get her back where she belongs.” Kefka’s head twitched to the side, eyes wide, smile never shifting. “He had her there.”

Like he cared after what he did to T-. Celes shoved the thought away, and scoffed at him to cover up the flinch.

“I couldn’t allow him to keep her,” he continued.

“And how did that work out for you?” she asked.

Kefka’s expression cracked around the edges, his grin slid sideways into a snarl.

A moment passed.

He turned on his heel and flounced off.

Celes indulged in the time to hiss out a sigh. Report after report had been filed about Kefka’s… mental state. None of them had been heeded. Emperor Gestahl and Cid insisted he was fine.

She shook her head sharply and turned on her heel. There was more important things to worry about. Like making sure Team 9 would not disappoint.

Failure would not be tolerated.

---

(Terra)

The shadows, thrown by a dim lamp, flickered on the stone ceiling. They formed and reformed in almost familiar shapes which echoed in memories Terra couldn’t recall. She pulled her knees up to her chest, and wrapped the soft blanket tight around her as she settled back against the wall.

Muffled sounds of people going about their morning in the rest of the Returners’ base, trickled in through the cracked open door and invaded her warm cocoon.

The last few days had been a lot.

‘Final Hope’

‘Last ray of Light’

It all sounded so… silly.

She felt more like one of the shadows on the ceiling, shifting and undefined, than anyone's ‘hope’ or ‘light’.

A gentle knock against the door frame jarred Terra out of her thoughts.

Locke peeked in, a soft grin spread across his face. “Oh, good, you are awake. I brought you some breakfast,” he said as he slipped into the room and kicked the door shut behind him. “Did you sleep alright?” The breakfast tray made a soft thump as he set it on the stack of boxes they were pretending was a table.

Terra shrugged, as she unwound herself from the blanket and shuffled over to plop on one of the boxes they were calling chairs.

Locke set a plate, with a roll and some kind of cooked oats in a bowl, in front of her. The smell of warm bread and the taste of sweet spice was comforting in its unfamiliarity.

“Have you thought about if you want to join the Returners?” Locke asked after they had both taken a few bites.

She turned the roll in her hands, broke off a bit of crust, and crumbed it between her fingers. “What do you think I should do?”

“Well… I don’t want to pressure you.” He shook his head as he poked his spoon at the oats. “If you join, it has to be your choice. But if you want information and advice, I can tell you what I see?”

Part of her ached for the simplicity of just being told what she should do. Her hand tightened around her spoon as she shoved the thought away, and nodded at Locke.

“The Empire’s control is spreading; and fast. With how disturbingly set Kefka is on getting a hold of you again, there will shortly be very few places outside of his reach,” Locke said, not a trace of his usual smile on his face. “At least if you join, you will have more information about what is happening.”

“More information? Is that why you joined?”

Locke’s spoon clanked against the side of his bowl. “Why I… no. I… The Empire… stole someone important from me,”  he whispered. “They… they attacked her home town, and she… well… I've hated it ever since … I joined the Returners when I realized the Empire was rotten to the core. Once I finally got that if no one stands up to the Empire, then more people will lose the ones they love, and be left like me. I wanted to make a difference instead of just…” he trailed off. After a moment, he grinned wide and fake. “Well, anyway, that's why I joined the Returners.”

“Oh.” Terra reached up and wrapped her hand around her pendent. “But, what if there's no one important in my life. I have no family… no friends…”

“That's not true! You have-”

“Wouldn't I have remembered by now?” she snapped, cutting him off. “Wouldn't they have been looking for-” Her voice broke as she tripped over the question.

“I…” Locke shook his head and scooted closer to her. “Terra, memories are weird.” He tossed his arm over her shoulders as he continued, “Regaining them isn’t going to happen in the order you want, but I'm sure there are people in the world who feel you're important to them. People who miss you. Plus there are those who you have yet to meet. Ones who will one day become important to you.” He smiled and squeezed her shoulder gently.

People who would become important?

“Besides! You have me and Edgar!” He flashed her a grin. “Those people out there, the Returners, maybe they are counting on you, too… But, look, if you don’t want to join, I will sneak you out. Wherever you want to go,” Locke said softly.

“But I don’t have anywhere to go?”

“Well, you tell me the type of place you want to live, and I will find something! We can even raid Edgar’s money pouch to get you set up!”

“Thank you Locke,” Terra said, with what was almost a laugh.

“You just say the word, alright?”

---

(Celes)

The moon had long since dipped low, and the roads of South Figaro were set in the murky light of predawn. Thus far there had been no yelling, no fighting, no resistance, or at least none which could not be immediately handled. It was a calm which would soon be broken, as the sun rose and alarms were raised too late.

Celes turned and motioned to the team leader walking towards her. “What is it?”

They saluted. “Sir, We are almost done, but I wanted to ask about the boy in the house on the corner.”

“A boy? What about him?”

“Yes, Sir. He woke up, looked like he was old enough to give us trouble. Wanted permission to-”

“Is he on your list?” she cut across them.

“No, Sir!” the team leader said as they jerked straight.

“Then, you have your orders. Leave him!” If the kid would be a liability or not didn’t matter at the moment. The course was set. Any issues, any people, could be handled after they became problems, not before. She pushed back the worry over the boy, about others and how many soldiers probably acted without asking first, with a roll of her shoulders.

“Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!” the team leader stuttered out.

“How many more do you have on your list?” she asked with a frown at them just standing around, instead of doing their job.

“Not many, General Celes. Only two more houses, Sir.”

“Then go, finish quickly,” she ordered.

The Team Leader threw a sloppy salute before they dashed away.

General Celes turned and strode with solid steps through the still quiet city.

It would not be nearly so calm once the population began to awaken. As long as everything continued to go to plan, they would wake up to no Figaro army, just an occupied city.

The whole operation was unfortunate, bloody work, but it would keep total number of deaths down. It was a shame to have to lose a high number of potential recruits, but with so many determined to be loyal to their King, it made the only other options to be ones which included blasting in with Magitek Armors.

General Celes would not make the same mistakes as she had made a year ago in Maranda.

South Figaro would be left standing.

---

(Terra)

Crates and boxes, tossed around in what might have once been an order, were piled in towering stacks which filled the cave room. Terra moved carefully between them, running her fingers lightly over the unlabeled containers. “How do you know what is in them?” she asked no one.

“Depends,” a voice said from the other side of a stack making her jump. “What are you looking for?” the person asked, appearing from around the corner. “You! Uh… hi.”

“Oh! You were with Banon last night, weren’t you?” she said with a startled blink.

“Yea, I am Art. Sorry for not saying as much before. That talk was a mess all around. Were you looking for something?”

“No, I,” Terra trailed off, as she shifted on her feet. “I was just wandering around trying to decide what to do about…”

“I understand your unease.” Art nodded, with a soft frown. “Choosing to fight, to join a war, isn’t light decision, but, well…”

“Why did you join?”

“Oh, that’s a heavy question.” Art took a deep breath before continuing, “You see, if The Empire can’t find a use for something, they just… don’t allow it, and if they can’t find a use for a person they just get rid of whoever. In their ‘perfect’ world there is no space left to just… let people be who they are. To let people be free and live.

“They have deemed so many things about being alive as frivolous.” Hand running along the edge of a box, Art continued, “They can’t find a use for there being more than the traditional genders, so they decided none of us exist. Music, art, the beauty of creation, must be made in service to the Emperor or not at all. But that is just not how things truly work. I named myself Art for a reason. My life, all of our lives, are a beautiful creative expression of self. I am Art. I am not one of the three genders. I am not ‘he’ or ‘she’ or ‘they’. I am just Art!”

Art sighed, looked away, and continued much softer, “Even as we speak, innocent lives are being lost… by both death and subjugation.”

The cold snapped its jaws out from her memory, freezing restraints, and the chill of that horrible crown as it bit into her forehead.

“Oh! I know, wait here,” Art said suddenly, rushing off and knocking her out of the memory.

Thuds and the sound of sliding boxes, echoed back to her for a few minutes before Art popped back in front of her holding out a metal glove. “Here, please take it. I hate to ask, but we really do need your abilities. I realize us asking you to join because of your powers seems a bit hypocritical, and maybe it is, but we really don’t know what else to do at this point.”

She wrapped her hand around the warm, time worn metal.

“Whatever you decide, hopefully this relic will keep you safe.” Art sighed. “Or will at least help you keep true to yourself, no matter what happens.” With a grim smile and a quick wave, Art strode back through the boxes.

Terra continued to turn the glove in her hands watching it glint dully in the light.

To keep herself… free?

---

(Celes)

General Celes’ sword sliced through the air and the man, cutting off his foolish plea. His body fell beside the other two already on the ground.

South Figaro, was not going down without a fight.

A foolish, unwinnable, fight.

Loud crashes had her spin on her heel and rush towards the yells which echoed from the dock.

As she turned the corner, a worker lobbed a crate at a group of soldiers. It broke apart with a loud bang as it hit the ground. People ducked as wood shrapnel flew and fish cascaded along the pier. Another person charged forward and hit a soldier with a heavy rope making him step on a fish and fall flat on his back.

“Enough!” General Celes ordered, as she strode up, ignoring the wet squish of fish, as she kicked them out of her way. “This fight is pointless.” She rolled her shoulders and sliced her sword through the air to point it at the group. “Surrender, or you will join the dead.”

One of the workers charged at her with a broken table leg.

Her sword smoothly pierced his unarmored chest.

He landed on top of the just as dead fish, with a wet thump.

“Anyone else?” she asked.

Her shoulders loosened, just a little, as they dropped the ridiculous things they were trying to use as weapons. The soldiers surged forward, yanked the dock worker’s arms behind their backs and pulled them off to be detained.

So many extra, pointless, deaths. At least this group was more sensible than the last one. How so many people got to their age without understanding the basics of how the world works was baffling.

At least they only had to worry about, ‘fall in line or die.’

In any case, the take over was on schedule.

Most of the Figaro Soldiers unfortunately had to be killed. The few who may change sides, were jailed, and of course the ones who helped get them into the city would be sent to Vector to be rewarded.

General Celes had no doubt the few Figaro loyalists who still evaded them would be caught soon.

They would learn to do as they were ordered, or they would no longer be able to disobey.

---

(Terra)

The area of the Returners’ base Terra had wandered into was… quiet.

She ran her fingers over the rough stone walls as she explored deeper into the cave system. Occasional piles of broken boxes, ripped fabric, and other unwanted odds and ends were scattered about, all surrounded with the thick scent of mildew and dust.

How much space had the Returners’ base taken up in the past?

How many people had they lost for it to have shrunk so much?

An answer whispered in her memory.

She shoved it away and turned to march down another abandoned corridor.

A flash of movement from one of the rooms had her double back and poke her head into the doorway, hoping for any kind of distraction.

Tucked into a dark corner, half curled in on himself, was Edgar. His fingers interlaced, and thinking scowl set in place.

She paused, shook her head, and turned to leave him to his thoughts.

“Oh! Hello, Terra.” Edgar jerked up straight on his crate chair as he turned towards her. “Were you looking for me for some reason?”

She shook her head.

“I see,” he said with warm amusement, as he motioned to the box next to him. “Feel free to sit. This dark corner has room for another.” His smile shifted as he continued, “Especially one of such captivating beauty!”

Ignoring Edgar being weird, she poked the crate next to him before sitting down on it with more than a bit of relief when the top held.

“The truth is the truth,” he said as his declaration hung in the air.

She huffed and looked up at him flatly.

“In any case,” Edgar said in a rush, clearing his throat. “Is everyone treating you alright? You will let me know if they are giving you any trouble, so I can take care of it,” he commanded.

“They have been mostly giving me space,” she said, as she picked at the old box she was sitting on. “I have been asking people why they chose to join.”

“Sound choice,” he replied simply.

Terra shifted, and dug out a splinter of wood from her ‘chair.’

With a deep breath she squared her shoulders and asked quietly, “Why did you join?”

Edgar’s face seemed to go blank, his shoulders stiff as his hand twitched against his leg. “Well, I am not sure how I could do anything else,” he admitted, voice so soft in the dark. “After my father was…” he trailed off, and blew out a breath slowly. “The Empire has done a lot of damage to Figaro, to the world, over the last fifteen years. Probably even before then, if I am being realistic.”

The crate he was sitting on creaked as he shifted and turned fully towards her. “It's not easy asking so much of you… I can’t blame you for having a hard time with it. There is a lot going on and if we force our ideas on you, if we take away your choices, we're no different than the Empire. So…”  Slowly he reached out and laid a hand over hers. “We want you to decide for yourself.”

“And if I-” She cut herself off. There was so much violence already; in the war, and in all the other ills of the world…

But… there were other things too, a warm hand offered, a smile, a laugh.

Terra braced, and turned her head up. “What if I don’t want to fight?”

“Ah? Well, there are always plenty of non-combat roles which need filling. Or if you would rather leave.” Edgar’s eyes flicked over her shoulder then back to her. “I am sure Locke could easily be convinced to smuggle you to wherever you want to go.” He shifted forward with a heavy sigh. “However… this conflict isn't going to stay contained. Soon there will not be a single corner of the map they don’t influence. It will eventually come down to fighting, or being found and controlled by them again…”

Terra flinched back.

Cold.

A laughing Cold.

Chilled thoughts, screeched to a frozen stop.

“My Dear Terra,” Edgar said sharply. “Breathe,” he commanded.

Terra sucked in a gasping breath.

“Ah, forgive me, I could have stated my point better,” He scooped both her hands into his larger, warm ones. “I will do everything I can to give you options, and keep you safe, you have my word, but… I am rather afraid there is only so much even I can do,” he smiled, sad yet reassuring.

“Thank you,” she whispered, as something unwound in her chest.

---

(Kefka)

Cute little hair clips, pretty little dress, and large fearful eyes; what little brats all over the world were made of, apparently. Kefka kept his best ‘I am not going to hurt you yet’ smile on his face as he crouched down in front of the little girl. “You didn’t see where she went?” he asked sweetly, as he tilted his head all the way to the side.

The skittish little thing’s eyes darted around. “Sorry mister Kefka sir! I didn’t! I just saw her by the water!” she squeaked out, while little, too soft hands, bunched the front of her dress.

“You didn’t notice anything else?!” he asked, barely managing to hold on to his expression. “Who she was with? What she was doing!?” he snapped in her face as his control cracked.

The little girl flinched and cowered away from him. “N-no! I didn’t! I am sorry! She was just looking at the water then I left! I-I’m sorry!”

“Useless child!” he snarled. The brat scrambled away from him as he stood and strode off, leaving her sobbing behind him.

Her parents should have taught her better.

Crying only showed people where to cut.

“Does anyone know anything in this place!?” Kefka screamed. “Surely someone saw her other than some brat! She is rather distinctive!” He yanked a random cowering merchant and shook him. “Girl, beautiful, light green hair, dark skin, bright violet eyes! She has pointed ears! She is not exactly missable!!?”

“I-I don't- sorry!” the man stuttered.

Kefka tossed him aside, the man slammed into the wall with a crack. “Find me someone with working eyes in this cursed place!”

“Yes sir!”

He tilted his head back and wordlessly screamed.

She would have come back to him if she wasn't being kept away.

Probably can’t remember better, but that’s fine, she can be retaught her place.

He would find her.

She would come home.

She had no choice.

No one disobeys the Emperor for long.

---

(Terra)

As Terra approached another cavern the indistinct chatter from inside shifted to shouts. She paused then slowly peeked through the uneven rock opening. Near the entrance of the large room beyond was a table filled with Returners who shouted and staggered in drunken conversation.

Maybe she should try a different area.

“Terra! Hey!” Sabin called out to her from across the room as he waved to the box next to him. “Come sit with me!”

Some of the people at the table were still yelling, while a few had transferred to trying to get everyone to sing instead. It may have worked if they weren't all trying to start different songs.

Terra side-stepped closer to the wall, carefully made her way around the distracted table and headed towards where Sabin was siting by himself at a long plank of wood.

“Do you want a drink?” Sabin asked as she sat down. He motioned over to the table of drunks who had managed to narrow down their songs to only three different ones. “It isn’t fancy, but it is strong.”

Terra ran her finger over the crate she was sitting on. The same type of crate so many of the ‘tables’ and ‘chairs’ were made of. The same kind which laid on their sides near by, their inner padding spilling out on to the stone ground. The same ones which were full and lined up against the wall in stacks.

“No, thank you,” she said with a soft shake of her head.

“Hey, uh, you doing ok? No one is giving you trouble, are they?” Sabin asked as he rolled his cup in his hands. “Just let me know if they do, and I will see to it. Yea?”

“Thank you.” Warmth laughed in her heart at the brothers’ echoed promise to take care of things for her.

“So, uh, you are having memory issues?”

“Yea… I can’t remember much of anything before… I think it was a couple weeks ago. I just…”

Sabin leaned on the piece of wood and gave her a sympathetic look. “Well, don’t worry about it too much. If you remember, you remember. If not, well, you still have lots of memories yet to be made. Yea?” He smiled before lowering his voice, “Once, when I was a kid, I hit my head so hard I thought I was a chocobo for three days!”

“What?” she said, completely bewildered. “A chocobo?”

“Aww, hey, don’t look so worried! I am all better now! Though...” He leaned back and looked around the area then scooted in closer and added, “Just between you and me, I still have a taste for Gysahl Greens and bird seed!” He slapped the ‘bar’, making it rock on its unsteady base, as he tossed his head back and laughed.

She couldn’t help but join in.

“Are you going to join the Returners?” Terra asked, once their laughter had trailed off.

“Probably? I had been considering it for a while, but… I kept thinking I needed to finish my training first.” Sabin turned his head to look over towards the table filled with drunk Returners. “I don't know what to tell you… I hadn’t realized how bad it had gotten until I was talking to everyone here. I am still not sure what I can really do to help, but, people are scared. I figure, no matter how bad it may seem now, I need to have a bit of faith in myself and the others who are willing to fight.” Sabin shook his head and turned back to her. “If we can’t stand together, then what is the point, ya know?”

Terra looked down at the bar.

Faith?

“Plus, I do know that I trust my brother completely. He is saying joining is a good idea, and I trust his judgment. I think you should trust him, too. He is the smart one, ya know!”

“The smart one?” Terra asked looking back up at him.

“Oh yea! My brother is a genius! He totally inherited all the brains of the two of us. Even when we were kids he had all the teachers showing him the advanced stuff!” He tapped his fingers on the bar, proud grin stretched wide. “You know that crossbow he uses?”

“Yeah?”

“Edgar totally made it himself!”

“Oh!”

“Yea! Edgar is brilliant! His creations are really high quality, and have this style to them that anything made by other people just… doesn’t have. But… don't tell him I said any of that! He'll turn as red as a tomato!” Sabin finished with a laugh.

King Tomato Edgar.

The laugh burst out of her in warm waves.

Sabin bumped his fist lightly against her shoulder as he added softly, “Hey, whatever you choose to do, don’t let people push ya around ok?”

She nodded with a warm smile.

---

(Celes)

The South Figaro civilians cowered, pressed together and huddled against the wall they had been herded to. All of their angry faces snarled in ways which were almost enough to cover up their fear.

Celes nodded to the Team leader. “Get them processed,” she ordered before turning to the group and saying louder, “Do as commanded, and you will be back in your homes tonight.”

She stepped back as soldiers rushed forward and snapped out orders to the crowd which, although reluctant, moved accordingly. At their currant rate, it wouldn’t be long before the whole population had been properly accounted for.

Things were going to plan, but… as much as the sudden takeover was a success, it also lacked the flashy show of over whelming force the Empire was usually known for. Unfortunately it left room for… incorrect assumptions.

It had honestly been a shock when so many people thought they had a chance to win and thus took up arms in an already lost fight.

Such things would be taken in to account for the next invasion she would plan.

A boy, his lanky limbs moving with the mismatched gait of a sudden growth spurt, inched along the edge of the wall towards Celes. He barely had time to take a lunging step towards her, a glint of a knife in his hand, before the old man beside him grabbed him by the waist and yanked the kid back into the crowd.

She very deliberately did not turn to look.

General Leo had scoffed at her attack plan when she had brought it before the Emperor. Said it was a ridiculous, and dishonorable way to wage war.

Celes watched out of the corner of her eye as the man talked the boy down, got the knife from him and the two of them disappeared into the crowd.

Perhaps her plan did not meet Leo’s standards, but her goal was not glorious battle, merely victory with the lowest body count manageable. Without things going exactly as she had planned, this incident would have ended in the boy being hurt, or worse.

This proved she was correct; infiltrators were the perfect way to undercut resistance before more died in futile attacks. She had picked each and every one of them herself, and sent them into South Figaro, in what should have been months in advance, to get settled.

Of course, because of Kefka it ended up being only a matter of weeks.

Still, her choices of people, like the elderly grandfather, had saved many lives by convincing them to surrender over getting themselves killed. Thanks to her foresight, she could ignore the boy and his attempt without reprimand.

Celes turned, and strode off to check for any last resistance left in the city.

She did not expect to find any.

---

(Terra)

Terra stepped out of the Returners base and took a deep breath of fresh air. Wind, which was already beginning to cool as the sun dipped closer to the horizon, brushed through her hair as she turned towards the mountain path.

With cautious steps she made her way along the stone trail, careful not to let her attention wander too far to how the Sabre mountain range was painted in the deep shadows and fiery hues of sunset.

Somewhere around the area was Banon’s thinking spot.

Locke’s soft foot falls and encouraging grin when she looked back at him, helped sooth her nerves.

He had been shadowing her all day. Of course the way she found out was when he popped up out of nowhere and reminded her to have lunch. As startled as she had been, it was nice to know he was looking out for her, while letting her make her own investigation on what she wanted to do.

After the first talk with Banon, she really didn’t want to be left alone with him.

It took both longer than she expected and yet far too short of a time, before she found him sitting on a blanket, watching the sky.

Terra straightened her shoulders and made her way towards him. “Banon.”

“Oh!” He jumped, but smiled when he saw her. “I did not expect you to come and find me so soon. Have you made your decision? Will you become our last ray of hope?”

“I don’t know,” she said, as she stopped a few steps from the blanket. “The ‘last ray of hope’ thing… It is…” she trailed off and turned towards the sunset.

“I see…”  Banon slumped back against a rock. “We could really use your help.”

“You don’t want me, just my abilities!” she snapped. “Returners, Empire, everyone! Always-”

Why? Why was it they always wanted… everything about her, but her.

Banon paused a moment, then scooted over and patted the blanket next to him. “I think we have gotten off to a bad start. How about you sit for a time. Watch the sunset with me.”

Terra looked down at the blanket, then glanced back at Locke, who was leaning back against the rock wall almost indistinguishable from the darkness around him. He pulled a hand free from a pocket, and gave her an awkward thumbs up.

She huffed out a laugh, and with a deep breath, she sat down.

Together they watched colors spread and shift, as the sun sunk lower.

“I originally became part of the Returners because my friends were joining up, and I had nothing better to do,” Banon said, breaking the silence. “I was just some punk kid in Vector. I had a vague idea I didn’t like what was going on, but it was more because I wanted to cause trouble, than any thought to actually help people.”

“That changed?”

“Eventually,” he admitted. “I never intended to end up leading. Sometimes I think there were probably better choices, but at the time, my taking over seemed to be the only one available. I had picked up a lot about the operation over the years from my friends who were more active at the time.”

“Why didn’t any of them become the leader?”

“They-” He sucked in a sharp breath, swallowed and started again, “They did… then they weren’t around to lead anymore… Like so many others, they were… hunted down and killed by the Empire.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” Banon ran his fingers along the side of his eye, as he continued in a whisper, “They were good people. Much better than I have ever been.”

“I do want to help,” Terra whispered.

“Really? Does that mean you will join?” he said in a rush.

“I think so… But… I'm scared… I don't… I don’t want to hurt people. Monsters are one thing, but humans?” She shook her head trying to get rid of the haunting images from her dreams.

They stuck stubbornly to the corners of her thoughts.

“The uncertainty you're feeling is only natural. War will always be the cause of a great number of people suffering. There is no way around it,” Banon said softly.

“But, do I have to be the one to cause it?” Terra asked.

“Everything is too unpredictable in war, for me to say you wont. In the end, it is a question of what actions you can live with. Fighting someone to stop them from harming others, or stepping aside and allowing people to be hurt.”

The sky darkened from flame tones to the dark blue of night as they watched in silence.

Banon sighed as he stood up, stretching his arms over his head. “Shall we head inside?” he asked, offering his hand to help her up.

After a moment, she reached out and took it.

---

(Celes)

Salt heavy sea air blew through South Figaro, making the pops of the freshly installed Empire banners echo harsh and demanding along the streets. Upon the port, strong lanterns flashed and voices were drowned out in the wind, as they tried to get the Empire War Ships docked in the dark.