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Nobody would guess how expensive that robe was, appearing for all the world like a hastily stitched-together burlap sack. As Clive shook the garment free of its plastic wrapper, he held it up with a tilt of his head, taking in the expertly crafted slapdash look. This was official Pug the Tonberry merchandise, and it had the price tag to match. “Here we are, then.” He unfurled the robe and draped it over Joshua’s shoulders; it rested there like a cape as the boy stood perfectly still, until Clive prodded at him with a sigh. “I know you aren’t a big Pug fan, but please, Joshua. For me.” If anybody recognized Joshua, and word got back to their mother…
“All right.” Joshua stuffed his arms into the wide sleeves before fastening the sack-like garment up with hands lost in the garment. It was… kind of adorable, to be honest. Clive might even prefer that to the silly blue alien with the terrible name Joshua preferred. “I don’t have to wear the hood, do I?” He turned his face up to Clive with the big hopeful eyes that were normally so successful at getting what he wanted. Well, not this time.
“I wish you would.” Clive reached out to flip the hood over Joshua’s very noticeable mop of strawberry blond curls. And just in time, for a small group of people pushed into the shop entrance Clive was loitering near in an attempt to get Joshua all set before leaving. “As much as you can, okay?”
“Okay…” His face shadowed by the large burlap-looking hood, Joshua may as well have been a tonberry. All he needed were his accessories, which Clive had discovered too late were sold separately. But the important detail was the coverage, so it would have to do. They probably sold plenty of those in the park, anyway, if for more gil.
“Don’t look so down!” Clive tapped a fist against Joshua’s robed chest, drawing out a smile on his shadowed face. “We’re still going to Mog’s Kingdom; can you believe it?”
The smile stretched into a grin. “No. I can’t wait.”
The theme park was every child’s dream. And with both of them being dragged to a long conference in the Dominion with their mother, and the park so close to the conference center, they really had no choice. Back home, Joshua never got to be a child, with all of the duties their parents heaped onto his small shoulders. Clive had been much the same, though his health gave him more freedom to roam and make friends. Joshua’s frail health in his earlier years had kept him confined to their gilded cage, leaving him to grow up serious and awkward when he should be running around like a little maniac with his friends. By the time he was older and stronger, his status as the golden child sealed his fate.
They had a chance now, and Clive would not let it escape. His brother was going to have fun—they both were.
“I wish they sold bigger sizes of costumes,” Joshua said, tilting his head back for Clive to better see his face; he seemed genuinely to be feeling bad for Clive.
“Well… most merchandise is geared toward a smaller audience.” Clive ruffled Joshua’s hair through the thick fabric. At least it had the added benefit of protecting fragile skin from burning. “But we’ll see what they sell in the park.”
“Okay.” Joshua let out a disappointed little sigh that he must continue on with his masquerade alone. “Can we go now?”
“We can go.” Clive held out his hand, waited for Joshua to clasp it, and pushed the shop door open to let in the bright Dominion sun and noises of the outside world, cars and voices and somebody’s music fading into the distance. The ever-present salty ocean tang that followed them everywhere in the Dominion.
The sunny street of the island nation was teeming with people, presumably some of them there for the very same conference at the convention center that had brought their family; most were clearly heading for the park in their casual wear and cute accessories, scattered costumed children. Clive pointed out a fellow little tonberry in hopes of placating his brother on the costume choice, but Joshua did not seem impressed. Of course, the most prevalent sight was that of moogle pompoms bouncing around on headbands reminiscent of the hydrangea garden just outside Clive’s window back home. He had to assume Joshua would want one; he hoped so, for he wanted to give Joshua the perfect normal child fun experience.
They waited patiently in line, observing the other families around them as the slowly made their way toward the entrance gate. They had avoided the worst of the crowds of the park opening—Clive had done his research—so it was not a terribly long time before they found themselves facing the efficient entry worker waiting to scan their tickets.
And then they were inside, Clive keeping an eye on Joshua as the very business-forward city abruptly became a fairytale, skyscrapers and streets giving way to plush greenery surrounding cobbled roads, buildings shaped like giant mushrooms, trees with twisted trunks and spherical bundles of foliage. Already the air was filled with the scent of roasted kupo nuts and cotton candy from various vendors, sweetness overpowering all other aromas. An employee in a moogle suit waved to passing children, selling balloons for a gil apiece. Joshua did not disappoint, his hood falling back as he stared at the enchanted street, eyes lighting up with wonder. This was what a child needed. Not responsibilities and proper etiquette heaped onto them from the moment they could walk, but sheer joy at a silly colorful park taken from their favorite cartoon.
“This looks nice,” Clive said, managing to draw his brother’s attention away from the nearest decorative toadstool. “They did a good job.” Joshua could only nod, returning his gaze to the fungal shops. “I hope the alien and cactuar areas are just as good. And tonberry,” he added, drawing out a little snort and giggle.
“Let’s look there first.” Joshua pointed to the building nearest to them, and of course it was a souvenir shop. Presumably most of them were souvenir shops, a few treat shops thrown in, all ways to convince children to part with their parents’ gil. Clive flipped the hood back over Joshua’s head, amused by the little groan, and led the way toward the cute shop with a wooden sign labeling it Mog’s House. Despite the busy crowded road, Clive managed to spot somebody that stopped him in his tracks, Joshua jerked to a stop with him. “What is it? You don’t like that store?” He was about to break out the puppy eyes, Clive just knew.
“No. That boy over there.” Clive gestured with the hand that was not occupied by Joshua’s. “In white. Wasn’t he at the conference yesterday?”
He was a little taller than Joshua, and just as serious of a child, studying the different shops with a look of fierce concentration. His wheat-blond hair was neatly parted, falling in layers nearly to his shoulders. Clive remembered the formal ensemble from their previous meeting, white blazer with crisp turquoise trousers and matching tie. It looked very much like a school uniform, and very well may have been.
“Dion!” Clearly remembering him after their brief encounter, Joshua pulled away from Clive and hurried closer, managing to not trip over his robe. At the other boy’s puzzled look, Joshua pushed the hood back once more, and Dion’s expression brightened.
“Joshua, right?” he said in his soft, shy voice.
“Right!” The boys exchanged proper little bows, though a few giggles escaped, and Clive’s heart warmed at the sight. This was right, this was what Joshua needed. Not just a day of childhood fun, but a friend, after a life spent indoors with family, servants, and tutors. He recalled from the day before they were barely able to exchange any words together before being whisked away by parents, before Clive could even put together the idea of arranging a playdate. He turned to the presumed caretaker that hovered close, fairly relieved that it was not the boy’s father he remembered seeing, an arrogant and imposing man it was almost laughable to picture attending a theme park. This fellow was slender and clad in a fine suit, auburn mustache as meticulously combed as his hair—in fact, the neatly combed part in his hair matched Dion’s perfectly, alluding to the identity of the boy’s hairstylist.
“Perhaps he could accompany us,” Clive said, and the man frowned to himself as he considered.
“That’s Faron,” Dion said, turning from his politely happy little reunion with Joshua. “Father asked him to bring me here.”
Clive eyed the man he assumed was a servant of some sort, wondering at the truth in those words. He had only briefly met Sylvestre Lesage at the conference center, but he did not strike Clive as a man happily allowing his son to visit a fun amusement park. Perhaps he simply wanted the boy occupied anywhere else; he definitely struck Clive as a man to happily get rid of his child if he was not serving any current purpose.
Another kid that just needed time to be a kid. How fortuitous that they had run into him! Joshua and Dion both needed a day to have fun together at an amusement park, and Clive had a feeling he would be a better candidate for ensuring Dion had a good time than their servant or butler or whatever he might be. There were some things a big brother was born to do.
Seeing that his charge was in good hands, Faron opted to remain outside the shop and hold a bag of presumably snacks or whatever other supplies Dion needed. Dion bid him a temporary farewell, and the now-trio ventured into the large souvenir establishment.
The shop interior was just as decorated in its theme as the outside: round walls with the texture of a giant mushroom, shelving that looked like it was carved from tree stumps, a mossy green carpet along the ground. On those tree stump shelves, spread across the rounded walls, were toys and accessories that drew the children in like eager moths. Clive followed after them, investigating the wares and hoping they did not choose the largest items in the store. A flying saucer big enough for a child to sit in had him throwing nervous glances Joshua’s way, but if he noticed in his single-minded quest toward the wall of moogle memorabilia, he did not show it.
Plastic bags of tonberry accessories drew Clive’s attention; he selected one to show Joshua, who was already helping Dion choose a pompom headband. “Would you like this for your costume?” he said, holding the bag of plastic lantern and chef’s knife closer. Joshua shook his head with a little sigh, and Clive returned the bag to its hook.
“How do I look?” Headband neatly obscured by hair, Dion tilted his head this way and that, making the big red pompom bob around wildly. “Is it all right?”
“It looks great!” Joshua reached up to flick the pompom, drawing a smile from his new friend. And then Joshua was hurrying to the rack of assorted bat wings, grabbing a purple set and helping Dion get his arms through the straps until it was properly settled on his back.
Okay, so yes, his attire was much cuter than Joshua’s. But…
“We need to find something for Clive,” Joshua said, already sifting through the tonberry robes to ensure nothing would fit him, lips pursed as he read through the sizes. He finally turned away from them with a frustrated little huff. “I guess just an accessory.”
“Right.” Clive grabbed a yellow pompom from the section of the wall dedicated to adult-sized heads. “I can wear this.” They both seemed doubtful. “What? Why not?”
Joshua turned his gaze awkwardly to the faux grassy ground. “Dion is already Mog. You can still buy it,” he added to cheer Clive up.
May as well. He hung onto the silly headband for future use. What future use? He had no idea. Did anybody ever wear these again once they returned home? But perhaps he could wear it to cheer Joshua up someday when cheering up was needed. “So which hat can I wear now?”
Dion actually raised his hand. “Can I make a suggestion, sir?”
This boy could not be real. He was quite possibly worse than Joshua. Even if they became close friends, they would need a third boy of a more mischievous nature getting them into trouble. The kind of mischief he could see sparkling in Joshua’s eyes, just waiting to be unleashed, but stifled by his mother’s strict rules. “Clive is fine.”
Dion nodded. “Mr. Clive. My second favorite character after Mog is his Cait Sith sidekick.” He wandered over to yet another shelf of accessories, and Clive found himself amused at being the imaginary friend sidekick of the magical imaginary friend main character. He was imaginary friend squared. Clive accepted the headband bearing furry black cat ears and little gold crown, pushing it back over his hair, then tied the red cape around his shoulders with a flourish. Dion stepped back to observe, thoughtful pose almost identical to Joshua’s, and nodded. “It looks good. The ears match your hair.”
“You will have to show Uncle Byron your new role when we get home,” Joshua said brightly. And then the boys were already moving on, browsing the toys and costumes. Clive could breathe easy once Joshua passed by all the large souvenirs in favor of a normal-sized plush of his favorite pale blue alien, showing it off to Dion, who was politely impressed.
“You will at least give it a new name?” Clive said as they made their way toward the waiting cashier with his big moogle hat. Joshua looked at Clive as though he had asked him the square root of yellow.
“Why would I do that?” Joshua handed the toy over to be rung up. “His name is PuPu.”
Not a single giggle to be found. Clive had to sigh as he dug his gil pouch from a pocket while watching the total climb with every scan. A child with a normal upbringing would have made a dozen jokes about the name by now. Hopefully someday.
“Should we have gotten something for Faron?” Joshua asked as they returned to the magical forest path outside, said butler waiting patiently. Dion’s patient explanation on why butlers should not wear costumes or accessories sounded very much like a fib told by butlers. But Joshua accepted it and they continued on.
The moogle forest that made up the park’s initial land was mostly shops and eateries, but there was a single ride the boys made a beeline for: a cute train that would take them on a tour of the forest, complete with animatronic entertainment. The wait in line proved to not be as terrible as Clive feared—he imagined the same could not be said of bigger, more popular attractions elsewhere—and soon they found themselves boarding a train that looked like it had emerged right out of a Mog’s Kingdom cartoon. To Clive’s amusement, Faron boarded the caboose, holding their extra purchases and looking for all the world like this was perfectly normal. With a toot and hiss of steam, the train jerked slightly before tottering along the tracks, entering a deeper forest through a tunnel of vines and branches. Multicolored fireflies lit the way, the mushrooms and trees becoming even more elaborate in their design.
The tour through the magical forest was decorated with moogle animatronics, which only partly entertained the boys as they chattered together like little birds. Serious little birds.
“Is this your first time here?” Joshua said, eyes focused on jerkily cavorting moogles while his attention was on his new friend. Dion nodded, and Joshua did, as well. “Mine, too. I’m glad our parents had to come here.”
“I’m glad you are here.” If Clive didn’t know any better, he would swear Dion attempted a seated bow while pressed tightly between passengers. “Not that Faron is bad company.”
“Or Clive!” Joshua quickly took his brother’s hand; his concern over causing offense was appreciated.
“I like the Dominion,” Dion continued as their train carried them past a scene of moogles hugging outside their thatch-roofed little house. “Oriflamme is near the sea, but a nation built on islands is such a great idea.”
“We’re by the Boiling Sea,” Joshua said, “but mostly swamp. This forest is much nicer.” He pointed to one of the moogles. “Mog is your favorite?” And so the discussion on moogles meandered on, what they were like, and most importantly if they were real. The discussion took up a decent chunk of the ride, though they still glanced at the attractions they passed. Eventually it double back to the topic of favorite characters.
“And your favorite is PuPu?” Dion said, and Clive bit his lip hard.
“I love outer space.” Joshua instantly came to life, eyes bright within the darkness of the hood he reluctantly kept on for now. “Mother thinks it is a pointless pastime, she doesn’t approve. But for my last birthday Clive gave me these hanging lamps that look like the planets.”
“I like the planets,” Dion said, and that simple statement was probably enough to get him an earful and lifelong status as best friend. “Especially the moon and Metia; I like to wish on them.”
“Oh, yes, so does this friend of Clive’s. Do you want to know my favorite?” And off they went talking about space and aliens and planets both real and imagined. Clive had heard it all before, but hearing his baby brother gush about a hobby with a friend his own age was almost enough to choke him up right then and there. Joshua had never once expressed interest in being an astronaut or visiting space, did not plan his future around it; it was simply a childhood fascination he was passionate about, and Clive loved that. Two years ago it was dragon fossils catching his fancy. Perhaps he would soon move on to something else. In six or seven or hopefully twenty years dating might occupy his thoughts. For now, he liked outer space and science fiction involving aliens, and Clive would happily help him enjoy it. He would embrace any normal childhood fancy that struck him, anything that was not the adult business lectures Mother insisted were the most important thing her sons could learn.
The little train finally returned to its point of origin. The boys had not learned much about each other aside from favorite planets and favorite episodes of the cartoon that featured PuPu, but it seemed enough for a bond to begin. Perhaps unconsciously, Joshua gripped Dion by the arm to tug him off in the right direction as they sought restrooms before it was time to choose a lunch spot.
“Mog’s Castle looks fancy,” Dion said, eyeing the little palace warily. “Like they serve food Father would want to eat.”
“Not there.” Joshua turned toward the assorted restaurants, some counter service and others featuring hosts waiting to seat their midday diners. All were highly thematic: The Chubby Chocobo looked like a barn, a statue of its round namesake waiting out front. Cactuar’s Oasis looked like… well, like a desert oasis. Unsurprisingly, Joshua was mesmerized by the restaurant featuring a little space ship waiting to launch out front. Dion smiled at him, then took his arm to escort him toward PuPu’s Launchpad. Clive followed after them, beginning to feel more like a second butler than a big brother, but that was all right. They could have a day of just the two of them any time back home—if Clive planned it right.
“Oh, look at this place! It’s great!” Joshua’s excitement was palpable as the trio passed through the dramatically hissing automatic door and into a blue-lit interior full of chrome futuristic furniture. Animatronics of the little alien greeted them in its own language as they walked past the flashing lights of the saucer taking up much of the entry. “Isn’t it great, Dion? Clive?”
“It is great,” he agreed, happy to be remembered. The tables and chairs resembled spaceship cockpits, the screens on the control panel showcasing the menu. Joshua settled his plush down at the controls, not a care in the world that he had seemed embarrassed by plushes at his most recent birthday.
Their mother’s reaction to a nine-year-old still receiving plush toys likely had a lot to do with it. Amazing how they were suddenly likable for someone his age again without her presence.
“There is a lot of steak on the menu,” Clive noted with some surprise. That was not where his mind went when it came to science fiction fare. But the answer became clear when the boys shared grins and pointed to the prints on the wall. He swiveled around to observe scenes from the cartoon, one showing the flying saucer beaming up a cow, a famous scene Clive instantly remembered. “Well, that makes the steak a little… unsettling. But order what you like.” He wondered again if they should get anything for poor Faron, but supposed a grown man, even one here in service to his young lord, could fend for himself.
He still might see about a doggie bag for him.
“I like this restaurant.” Joshua grinned at them over his menu, hood fallen back once more. He looked, as Clive had hoped more than anything, genuinely happy. It was not the polite smile he gave his mother when she asked him how he liked his meal—it sounded like restaurant preference was something else Dion’s father might have in common with her. It really seemed like they might get along! How funny would that be? No, this was not the feigned pleasure at unpronounceable dishes and petite carrots he was required to finish. This was not even the serious enthusiasm he showed at home when she was not there. This was sheer childlike joy.
Clive thought he might cry again.
Dion was grinning just as enthusiastically. Mog might be his favorite, but he seemed just as in love with this space restaurant, looking around at the décor more than he looked at the menu. Clive barely knew him, but from what little he had heard, as well as glimpses of Sylvestre, the simple fact of a child sent out with the butler to keep him out of the way… His home life must be similar, if not worse. He was quite glad they had run into him.
They gave their orders to the server dressed in silver jumpsuit and matching antennae, the boys eagerly sipping at the water in light-up mugs she had brought. Around them, the spaceport was abuzz with life as servers swept around with drinks or meals, as families sat and ate or talked together. Children climbed on the spaceship playsets, filling the air with their laughter, mingling with the scrape of silverware and beeps of space technology. “Dion?” Clive said, and the boy politely turned to him with a wobble of his pompom. “Where would you like to go next?”
“Me?” Dion blinked at him like a little bat-winged owl. “I am intruding on your day at the park, Mr. Clive. You choose.”
Clive shook his head with an inward sigh. Definitely worse than Joshua. At least he and Joshua had each other to keep themselves grounded. “Sorry, Dion, but I have already decided. You choose.”
“I actually do want to see the alien-themed land, if this is what one restaurant looks like.” He exchanged smiles with Joshua, and Clive wondered if that was genuinely his own wish. “But…” He pulled a park map from his blazer pocket to unfurl across the table, both boys leaning over it to study, heads together. “There are little corners for the monsters that don’t have their own whole lands. Like the morbol and dragon.” He turned his eager little face up. “I like dragons. I like studying their fossils. They used to get so much bigger than the little dragonets we have today.”
“I think we can manage that.” And with the boys eagerly diving into the new topic of favorite dragon types they had read about, Clive was able to sit back and wait, taking in the scenery and squashing intrusive thoughts of how nice it would have been to experience this place as a child, himself. Perhaps he was only five years older, but it really felt like a lifetime sometimes.
The food arrived, and their meals off the kids’ menu were just as adorably space-themed as expected, Dion’s meat patty and Joshua’s planetary meatballs sprinkled with blue dust that was apparently cheesy. The vegetable sides were child-approved and cut into fun shapes. Even Clive’s grownup meal had little colorful alien additions.
And when the meal was over and their server suggested dessert, Joshua and Dion’s faces both transformed from doubtful to excited when Clive agreed. Of course they wanted a lemon tart, so Clive ordered one for the table.
It was… well, it was definitely futuristic. A pile of what looked like bright yellow caviar sat atop a stylish swoop of cookie dust. All three eyed the dessert in confusion, as if waiting for instructions. Or for their real tart to arrive amid laughter at the thematic joke. Well, somebody had to be first, so Clive selected a spoon and scooped up a little bit of everything.
The boys observed Clive as if they were at the doctor’s watching him get the first shot. It was, Clive decided as he rolled the little lemony balls around in his mouth, not bad. It definitely tasted akin to lemon tart, if sorely missing the textures. He nodded, and they picked up their own spoons, sampling cautiously. They must have approved, for the dessert was gone in no time. And wouldn’t you know it, the disagreement over the final bite came from them both displaying their chivalry, insisting the other take it. Clive solved the dilemma by taking it, himself.
When they returned to the mushroom forest outside, they found Faron waiting with the extra bags, primly nibbling on what looked like a giant corn dog colored to resemble a cactuar limb. The butler gave them a polite nod, and Clive took both boys’ available hands in his as they prepared to wade into the crowd. Dion jerked his head up to look at him, surprise flickering across his face, before a soft smile grew.
“Will you keep in touch after this?” Clive wondered as they reached the corner of moogle forest dedicated to morbols. The plants and entire atmosphere grew swampy, little animatronic tentacles waving at them from patches of marsh grass.
“Of course!” Joshua said. “Can we use normal mail? I want to send real letters.”
“Me, too,” Dion said. And with that, they both pulled away from Clive to walk and talk together, detailing their writing skills. Until the scenery once more grabbed their attention, and they pointed to another ride lurking in the nearby swamp.
It was, of course, a giant morbol. As cute as it was possible for a morbol to look, based off the cartoon rather than the real thing, it cheerfully rotated around. Its tentacles spun and swooped with it, carrying riders in little cars at the end of said tentacles, and Clive swiftly shooed his charges away. “We just ate!” he said to stave off disappointment. “Come on, let’s find the dragon.”
The forest finally came to an end, leading them to an area designed to look like a cavern interior, though fortunately not a genuine cavern. Lantern lights could be seen in the distance, accompanied by strange little voices. Joshua just sighed as they ventured into tonberry territory.
“Well?” Dion said. And was it just Clive, or did Dion already sound much more relaxed and less formal when he spoke with Joshua? “Go on.”
“No.”
“Make the noise.” Definitely more relaxed, teasing like any normal child. “Go on.”
“No.”
“Just one doink.”
“I can’t.” Clive could swear Joshua sounded smug. “I didn’t buy the knife.”
Pug the Tonberry’s mine cart ride was another they promised to return for, making their way toward the dragon corner of the cavern. Easy enough to gauge when they crossed from one land to another, for the drab brown rock of the artificial ‘walls’ became jewel-studded black, glittering like the night sky as multicolored lamps rotated from hidden crevasses on the ground. Even Clive had to admit he was a little impressed as the three of them stepped closer to run fingers over a sparkling cavern wall, feeling the multitude of protruding little gems. He wondered what it might have looked like if an actual cavern had been feasible with these crowds, the jeweled tunnels completely enclosing them, and he figured it would be cramped and claustrophobic. But pretty.
“Look at that!” Dion, growing bolder by the second, grabbed Joshua by the hand and hurried to inspect the assorted dragon hoards scattered about; piles of typical coins or jewels, some of them more amusing like the comic books or mound of pizza boxes, crusts scattered about like bones. Thus preoccupied, they did not notice Clive slip away to purchase some little treasures in plastic capsules from a vending machine until he returned with them in outstretched hands.
“Aren’t you getting one, Mr. Clive?” Dion said, looking up from his plastic ball with concern in his eyes.
“He is a cat,” Joshua said, holding PuPu under his arm while popping the capsule open and dumping a coin into his palm. “He would only bat it under the couch. Oh, a cactuar coin!”
“Mine is a morbol coin.”
“Trade?”
“Okay.”
Clive had no idea why the trade was happening, but coins changed hands and were tucked away.
There was not much else to the glittering dragon corner besides a souvenir shop—Dion purchased a dragon plush to match Joshua’s alien—and a single ride. Clive could tell at a glance the height requirement for the dragon coaster with its flaming towers and corkscrew loops was right around Joshua’s height, and he herded them along lest they wait in line for nothing. Or worse: be just barely tall enough and actually go on and quickly regret the ride.
They skirted around Cactrot the Cactuar’s desert-themed land on their way to PuPu’s area, observing the little green heads that popped out of sand patches, only to disappear abruptly as children approached with little inflatable mallets—part of an elaborate game of whack-a-mole spread out over a large area. Clive suggested they stop and participate in the game, but apparently the alien section of the park was their more immediate destination. Rising high above them, also a likely candidate for not being tall enough, were a trio of drop towers that looked like the head and arms of a cactuar the size of a skyscraper. It made Clive dizzy to crane his head back to peer up at it, and he hoped the boys had no desire to go flying today. He jerked his head back down at the quiet voices piping back up.
“Joshua?” They walked ahead of Clive, never leaving each other’s side, even when something caught their eye. Dion had fallen out of the habit of asking before speaking, so it had to be important. Clive wondered if he should fall back further.
“Yes?”
“Will we ever see each other again?”
Both Rosfields came to an abrupt halt in the shadow of the tall cactuar ride, the silence punctuated by riders’ thrilled screams. Once Dion realized he was walking on alone, he hurried back to them.
“Why do you say that?” Clive said, even knowing he should not be butting in quite so much. But still…
Joshua was already wilting, as if it really was the desert sun above their heads. “I guess we might not. Your father will say the same thing as my mother about visiting.”
Dion nodded, hugging his dragon close. Realizing the constant crowd was having to veer around them, the trio resumed their trek, now under the pall of the future. “Well… maybe they will like each other, after this conference. Maybe they will want to visit.” Dion did not sound especially hopeful, but it was better than complete despair.
“We’ll think of something,” Clive said, because even if they shared a love of fancy food, he still had a hard time picturing that particular friendship blooming. “Don’t give up so soon.” If this was what one day of playing together could do for their spirits, Clive would tear a hole between Rosalith and Sanbreque for them. “I should be allowed to travel on my own for meetings like this soon enough. I will take you on trips with me.”
That lightened their moods, drawing out little cheers as they left the desert behind. The boys already whispering amongst themselves in excited little hushed tones, they passed through an automated metal door that hissed as it slid open, revealing another world entirely. The cratered blue ground was dotted with cliffs of striated greens, blues and purples, plants bearing fuchsia leaves and glowing white fruit. There was no doubt left this was an alien planet, even had it not been for the gleaming spaceships and rusty pieces strewn about. An employee wearing a full-body PuPu costume was waving to the crowd; Joshua and Dion acted like they weren’t interested, but it did not take more than a gentle nudge for them to rush over to engage in some photo ops. The light aroma of food carts gave way to a faint whiff of ozone on the breeze to keep with the theme. It wouldn’t do to have an alien land smelling like kupo nuts.
“Do you want to go on that?” Joshua pointed to a bumper car ride that involved sitting in a little flying saucer that seemed to hover as it glided around on a tire-like cushion of air. Two could ride at a time, and as much as he rather would like to go on a fun attraction with his little brother, Clive politely declined. He found a bench to settle on with their plushes beside a tired mother, watching as the pair raced to get in line. From the corner of his eye he watched Faron also find a bench, relaxing with bags at his feet and arms crossed.
The boys spent the entire time they waited chattering animatedly with each other, free to gesture without an armload of toy souvenirs. Occasionally they would look about, taking in the sights—another nearby ride was a spaceship-themed strata coaster with a single vertical hill Clive hoped nobody wanted to go on, stomach plummeting just looking up at the crazy thing. What was with this park and such tall rides? He saw other family-friendly attractions and could only hope their enthusiastic pointing at the coaster was in terror.
Their turn arrived and they politely assisted each other onto the saucer, buckling up and sharing the controls. The joy on their faces as they flew across the shiny surface, smacking gleefully into other saucers and getting spun about was a delight. They laughed, clearly having the time of their lives, and Clive could not have been happier. This was exactly what he was hoping for today. There had to be a way to keep this friendship going beyond just written letters, to keep that joy in place. Dion grimaced as Joshua pulled his steering lever too hard, sending them into a brief spin before smashing into another saucer, sending both flying. Clive had to laugh at their antics.
It was hard to imagine that this time tomorrow, they would be back in the empty corridors and aching loneliness of their manor in Rosalith. Joshua would be perched at his desk studying—or perhaps hard at work eloquently scribbling out a letter. He would resume his pastime of staring out at the garden, daydreaming as an escape. To hammer the point home, the fancy grille of the windows gave them a very prisoner appearance—something they could not rest the blame on their mother for the windows long predated her.
Clive shook off his thoughts of what tomorrow would bring. Joshua was here, now, laughing his little hooded head off as he climbed out of the saucer with Dion. He was having a good time.
The pair rushed over to Clive, taking their plushies back and speaking in a rush about how fun that was and Clive really should try it.
“I could do that,” Clive said, pretending to ponder. “Or we could all go to the VR laser gun ride over there.”
And that was how they found themselves waiting in line for PuPu’s Alien Battle. He eyed the boys with suspicion as they giggled together about something; surely they must be laughing about the name, right? It wasn’t normal for boys to not laugh at the name.
“Clive?” Joshua said abruptly, amused smile fading as he looked up at him. Only a few people remained ahead of them as everybody was one-by-one given big red guns, VR goggles, and instructions before heading off through futuristic doors.
“What is it?”
“Am I ignoring you?” His gaze dropped to the metallic industrial flooring. “I’m sorry. This was supposed to be our outing.”
“Not at all.” Clive couldn’t help but smile as he ruffled his hair underneath the hood once more. “I brought you here to have fun, and I think you have had far more than you ever could have with just me.” He nodded toward Dion, who had also grown sullen and guilty. “I am glad we ran into Dion.”
“Me, too,” Joshua said, nudging his friend. Dion’s smile returned as well, but before he could respond, they were called up. Armed, fancy goggles in place, they ventured into a room that—glasses lifted—was simply a long winding hallway. Glasses on, it became a long hallway of white and chrome, lit up by a rainbow of panels and buttons, windows showcasing the depth of space. They had not even begun the game and already the boys were enthralled as they craned their heads around to take it all in. “Can we get this video game?” Joshua asked, and Clive genuinely could not tell if he was joking.
A door along the upper level swished open to reveal PuPu waving frantically. Clive tilted his goggles up to see if it was an animatronic or part of the VR, but nothing was there, its disembodied voice echoing through the empty room as it beseeched them to take out the alien creatures that snuck aboard.
“Now it speaks our language?” Clive said as the alien scurried back out, and received what he assumed were glares hidden behind dark goggles. “Sorry.” He held his gun at the ready as they crept down the hallway, Joshua distracted by the dusty spiral of a galaxy through the windows. He could probably give a speech on the accuracy or lack thereof if he were so inclined.
The first attack was a nice easy one to familiarize them with the game. A pair of creatures slowly crawled in preceded by ominous shadows; they resembled spidery long-legged lizards with whip-like tails, large bug eyes, gaping toothy mouths. An attempt had been made to make them quite hideous, as opposed to the rest of the park where even morbols were adorable. It seemed odd for an attraction related to a cute little blue alien, but it made some sense. Nobody would want to shoot at cute enemies, right? PuPu’s voice returned over the speaker, urging them to shoot, and both boys did so in unison. Beams of orange and white light fired from their guns, vaporizing the creatures with over-the-top splashes of green goo that had them laughing.
The challenge increased as they made their way through the tunnels, creatures growing more numerous and more cunning, running from their laser blasts and even hiding. When an alien landed an attack on one of them, their life meter decreased, flashing before their eyes. Joshua just scoffed as his life depleted, while Dion seemed almost genuinely concerned.
None of them had much life left when they entered a circular room, door slamming shut behind them. Cockpit windows showing off a massive black hole were certainly impressive, the gaping maw of nothingness marked by a circling vortex of fiery light; it left Clive wondering at the realism of being able to travel this close to one. Joshua did not seem offended, so maybe? Or he just thought it looked impressive. Either way, Clive would have to ask him later. For now, he was mainly preoccupied by the multitude of ominous air ducts with broken vents scattered along the walls.
“Oh, the final boss,” Joshua said, standing back-to-back with Dion, gun at the ready like a little action star. Clive snuck his phone out for a quick candid photo before a low growl had him spinning around. He secured his phone and aimed his own gun at the alien beast that looked like a small reptilian behemoth emerging from one of the vents.
Three guns fired at once, colored lasers barely hindering the creature as it approached.
“That barely shaved any of its HP,” Joshua muttered, and Clive wondered how he was seeing the enemies’ HP! Too late to worry about that now, the alien charged and the trio scattered, firing multiple blasts of light. Clive could almost make out the sounds of other boss battles in different rooms, and idly wondered if each one differed.
It was, of course, the most challenging battle yet. Its surprisingly intelligent programming kept it dodging attacks and hiding, attempting to sneak around their backs for surprise attacks. Little by little they shaved away its health—according to those who had figured out where to look for said health bar. They had far less life left, growing tense as the battle wore on. When it had only a sliver of health, it scurried into a vent, only occasionally popping up to take a swipe at them, vanishing as soon as shots were fired. Clive could not help but wonder if perhaps it was a little too clever, dragging the fight on and keeping folks waiting in line. The wait had not seemed long. So perhaps these final boss rooms really were numerous.
The final alien disappeared from view once more, Clive spinning about just in time to see it sneaking up behind Joshua. Dion raced to his side, flinging himself between alien and Joshua as he jammed the gun in its face and fired, finally finally sending great quantities of VR goo everywhere. Joshua, appearing covered in the stuff, was howling with laughter. “My hero!”
“Oh.” Dion joined him in laughing, pulling back the hand that seemed to instinctively want to brush Joshua off; all they had to do was remove their goggles, setting them down on the designated receptacles, and they were neat and clean in a bare hallway once more. More employees in alien garb wished them a good day as they left, squinting as they ventured back out into the daylight. Okay, so that had been fun. But it took up a decent chunk of time, and so they power-walked on, dodging guests in their pompoms and cat ears.
Onward they continued, venturing through the chocobo forest, over the wooden slats of the boardwalk area dedicated to lesser known characters. High overhead loomed the Moomba Chase wooden coaster and the great Knights of the Round Wheel; they might have gone on the latter were it not yet another time-consuming ride as it made its slow revolution. Instead, they looped back to previous lands, trying out the tonberry mine carts and rotating morbol ride they had passed on initially. Along the way they picked up some of the roasted kupo nuts whose aroma had followed them the entire day, along with a big fluffy pink cloud of cotton candy called, of course, Mog’s Pompom. Treats in hand, they stopped in a few shops of various themes, to browse the wares and take in the enchanting decor. They did not purchase much else besides a pair of stationary sets to make good on their promise to write, growing melancholy once more at the reminder that letters might be all they had for a while. New purchases went to Faron, who accepted them without protest, still looking for all the world like this was a normal part of the job.
They stopped for some supper at Cait Sith’s Diner, nobody getting any especially large meals after snacking on quite so many nuts and fluffy sugar treats. Fish patties served in cat dish plates and cups shaped like megaphones added to the cute little diner’s theme—Clive had been half afraid it would be an actual cat café, providing a challenge in dragging Joshua away without a new family member.
Well past the sun dipping below the horizon to reveal a sea of stars surrounding the moon and her ever-present Metia, they found themselves worn out on a bench, waiting for the fireworks. Both boys seemed on the verge of dozing, but kept jerking back awake, sometimes at a nudge from the other. The constant crowd had finally thinned out, most of the other folks either heading home or finding their own viewing locations to relax. The bright red and white mushrooms of Mog’s Forest were now illuminated by colorful lights rather than the sun, giving the land a whole new aura of magic. Further down the path Faron sat on a bench with his assorted bags, sharing the space with a young couple. He, too, cast his gaze to the night sky as he waited.
They had definitely not planned on being out so late. Clive did not relish returning to Mother and having to explain, but he looked once more at Joshua and Dion resting against one another and smiled. Well, maybe she would not even notice with all the work and preparation before her own presentation tomorrow. Perhaps she had found some friends and was out just as late with them, at a bar or some other adult venue.
Even the remaining crowd froze in their tracks, a hush falling over them, and Joshua and Dion sat up straight in anticipation. A voice sounding suspiciously like Mog boomed across the park announcing the fireworks for all to enjoy, and was still fading into the night breeze when the first spark sailed overhead and exploded into a fiery flower. Clive quickly turned his gaze down to the boys’ upturned faces and the wonder spread across them. Warmth filled his chest at the sight, as they clasped hands and stared upward, colorful lights illuminating their enraptured faces. Finally, Clive pulled his eyes away and returned to the sky and its magical show.
They remained frozen there on the bench, watching the fireworks show light up the night. Every color was on display in beautiful pyrotechnics, some fireworks almost appearing to take into the shapes of characters. The cactuar was particularly obvious, and the boys made appreciative noises.
A final burst of multiple fireworks signaled the finale, leaving nothing in the night sky but afterimages and a goodly amount of smoke hiding the stars. A hushed silence had fallen over Dion and Joshua, but finally they slid from the bench, the wonder on their faces replaced with sadness. Sensing an imminent departure, Faron left his own bench and headed their way.
“Thank you for an amazing day,” Dion said with a little bow, pompom bobbling. “I wish it did not have to end.” He wiped an arm across his face with a loud sniffle.
“Me, too.” Joshua shoved their plushies into Clive’s arms so that he could pull Dion into a tight hug. They were truly precious; they deserved the perfect friendship already taking root. It should be allowed to blossom and flourish. He had never seen Joshua cling so tightly to another before, not even another child, only holding them rigidly at arms’ length—on the rare occasion he even exchanged more than bows. Joshua needed this, as clearly did Dion. Watching them sadly, Clive glanced at Faron, whose own butler mask was cracking just a bit for the frown to show through. “I will write to you the second we get home.”
“Thank you.” Dion buried his face in Joshua’s neck, and Clive finally turned away from the tragic boys.
His own eyes sparkling, Faron held out a pouch of money; it took Clive a moment to realize this was to cover whatever he may have spent on Dion throughout the day. He waved the pouch away with a shake of his head, and the butler shrugged and dropped it into one of Clive’s bags of purchases before handing everything over.
Behind him, Clive could hear the sniffling and murmured farewells continue.
He would find a way to let the boys visit.
“I guess we should go…” Joshua pulled away, reaching over to take Clive’s hand, but finding them all occupied. He took PuPu back, while Dion held Dragon close.
Running out of excuses to postpone the inevitable, they all exchanged their final farewells and turned toward the park exit, joining the flow of people returning to their homes or hotels. They walked near each other until leaving the entrance gate behind, and were forced to turn in different directions. How perfect would it have been for their parents to choose nearby hotels! But alas, this really was goodbye.
“Clive?”
“Yes?” As they crossed the parking lot, he looked down at his little brother, at the happily beaming face he rarely saw. Already cheering up after such a glum farewell. He really needed to shuffle their purchases around to take Joshua’s hand.
“Thank you for bringing me.” Joshua gave his alien a squeeze. “I think I like tonberries now, too.”
“Oh.” Clive blinked down at him, at that earnest little hooded face in the dark. He burst out laughing, nearly losing his cat ears; Joshua’s giggles soon joined him. “Well in that case, today was worth it.”