Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Visions of Peace ❯ The Long Night ( Chapter 2 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

The Second Chapter - The Long Night

He couldn't breathe.

The fumes and the smell was absolutely horrid. Thick black smoke made it impossible for him to take a breath; he was literally choking on the ashes in the air. There wasn't much time and if Relm was in the house, he had to save her. After all, Terra-

Terra. The name was like a bolt of lightning, shocking Locke back into reality. The thief's eyes snapped wide open, only to quickly close as the fumes stung his eyes. His memory slowly cleared up... This was not Thamasa. The ceiling of a house did not just cave in on him. He was not trying to save Relm from being devoured in the magical inferno.

Hell, they weren't in Thamasa at all. He tried laughed at his own stupidity, but the deadly fumes denied him even that.

Locke tried to move, but couldn't. His legs, he couldn't feel them at all. His arms felt like cardboard left out in the rain, weak and completely useless. He opened his eyes, trying to get a bearing on his surroundings, but all he saw was smoke. Locke narrowed his eyes and made out the scorching inferno beyond; a red haze of flickering flames that licked at the innards of the airship, devouring everything and spewing forth thick knots of black smoke... but there was no sign of Terra. Attempting to cry out her name, he coughed uncontrollably instead; his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

Locke's eyes watered from the pain as he searched for any sign of Terra, threatening to close against his will. Locke could barely see that his legs were trapped beneath debris. Debris that had yet to catch on fire, but...

Great, Locke thought. Again he was trapped underneath what would soon be firewood, except this time he did not have a Cane of Ice from Strago's home.

The thief twisted around, trying to get on his back. His arms burned in effort as he attempted the most difficult push-up of his life. If he could just get some wiggle room, it might be possible to-

Locke screamed out in pain.

Curses flowed freely despite his lack of air. The prison of broken lumber that encased his legs had collapsed even further. He could feel splinters digging into his ankles and opening fresh wounds. Warm blood was dripping down his legs and the world was beginning to spin dizzily. Locke collapsed back onto his stomach, his arms spent from the attempt. Tears ran down his cheeks, his eyes too watery for him to clearly see anything at all.

"Terra," he gasped with the remainder of his energy. I'm sorry, -- even his voice had failed him now -- I couldn't keep my promise.

As he lay dying in the ruins of the Blackjack, his thoughts wandered back to forbidden memories. Tears of sorrow welled up in his eyes as he relived that fateful day in Mt. Kolts.

"Rachel. I failed you..."

Anger rushed through his veins. He would not die like this. He would not fail again. He had made a promise, and even if he had to fight his way through the entire Imperial Army, he would keep his word. Half-blind? Unable to move his arms or legs? Too helpless to merely get out from under some mere dead trees? That was not enough to stop him!

Locke gritted his teeth as he felt renewed vigor rush through his veins. His arms pushed against the floor, muscles feeling like they would simply rip apart as he gave it his all.

Whatever had been digging into his leg drove harder into his feet. Locke would have cried out in pain, but he was simply too numb to care anymore.

He would not die. Not here. Not yet. He had too much to atone for.

-=-

Sabin collapsed on the ground, drawing the attention of Cyan and Relm. The Doma Knight quietly told Relm to continue her work and went to Sabin's aid.

Sabin was burned badly. His blond hair was charred and much of his tanned body reddened from the fires of the airship. Patches of his skin were blackened and leathery. Other parts of his body were blistered and chafed. The warrior had gone back into the inferno against their advice, and it looked like he had tested and exceeded the limits of his strength.

But he had dragged out an unconscious Davis.

Cyan dropped to his knees and examined the Magitek pilot. His leather armor was mostly burned to ash, with much of his skin red and swollen. Blisters were everywhere and like Sabin, some of his skin had turned black and leathery. Dried blood masked the entire right half of his face.

For the old Doma Knight, it was nothing new. He had seen injuries like this all his life. Fire was always a heartless murderer.

Cyan was silent, his fingers moving as he worked to alleviate familiar wounds. He ripped off pieces of his tunic and tried to clean off Davis' face as much as he could. The pilot had a pulse and he was still breathing. Those were good signs, Cyan thought. The irony of the situation was lost on him though. After all, he had treated many of his countrymen in the same manner during the war with the Empire, and now he was treating an Imperial pilot.

A cry of relief brought Cyan's head up. Relm and Terra were both standing with their hands out, a soft blue glow surrounding them, as sparkles of magic showered the airship. The fires shrank from the blue flashes, and then quickly died with hardly a puff of smoke.

At least that was something that finally worked. Relm and Terra had been trying to put out the fire with their magic for sometime now, Cyan couldn't remember how long. They had worked tediously after Relm had regained consciousness.

Cyan was still torn inside, frightened at the prospect of such a young child involved with their affairs. Fortunately, Relm had only bumped her head. She had been lucky. If she had died, he didn't know how he would deal with it.

Terra ran up to Cyan, her jacket in tattered pieces but covering the grievous wound across her back. Her eyes were red from the strain, and she looked like she was ready to collapse as Sabin had. To her credit, she remained upright.

"I can do more for him than you can," Terra said. "Please... the airship..." Her voice had regained some of its strength and she had stopped crying.

Cyan nodded in agreement as his hands lowered Davis' head back to the ground. He was careful, unlike Sabin, and made sure Davis was lying on the ground in a comfortable manner. He turned to the remains of the airship as Terra tended to the injured pilot.

The Blackjack was broken in two. It had splintered on impact and nearly killed them all. Much of it was unrecognizable now, a pile of smoking rubble that could barely be perceived as anything more than firewood.

And still in the debris were their friends.

"I'll help."

Cyan turned to the side. It was Edgar. Cyan took note of the King's right arm hanging uselessly in a makeshift sling.

Edgar looked terrible. Gone was the regal aura that accompanied him. His heavy armor had been left on the ground, broken in many pieces, and he wore a dirty bloodstained shirt. His blue cape was gone, having been removed to cushion Relm while she was unconscious. Dark shadows lined the creases on his face, creases from stress unbefitting to one so young. Although he kept his tall stature, he was a shadow of his former self.

Siana and Terra had saved Edgar's life; a combination of experienced first-aid and powerful magic kept the King from dying due to his concussion and internal bleeding. Terra's ability to heal others had been taxed this day, and it was fortunate that Siana could dress battle wounds in her sleep. The pilot had even created the sling for Edgar's arm, fashioned out of clothes in their packs.

Cyan noticed Siana trying to bandage Sabin's burns. The burned martial artist scowled as the Imperial pilot applied ointment to his skin.

"She'll do a good job, and he's my brother," Edgar said as he noticed Cyan's distraction. "He won't die," he said it like a statement of fact.

Cyan nodded, his slow motions betraying his fatigue, and made his way to the airship.

-=-

They gave up two hours later. It was close to dusk by the time, and the heavily clouded skies made it a nightmare to see. Dark, thick clouds had swarmed overhead, blocking out the sun and added to the shade that the forest canopy provided. As dusk approached, it was simply too difficult to search the debris without at least torches, and even then, the flickering light was dangerous to health and safety. That didn't take into account the constant rumblings of the ground, like distant earthquakes, that threatened their balance and felled a few trees every few minutes.

A small campfire burned. The paltry flames provided light and warmth, but it was little comfort to the few that gathered around it. They had not yet left the crash site and instead made themselves as comfortable as they could near the smoking wreck. The shadows danced in the flickering light beneath the forest canopy where they made shelter for the night. They were a gathering of tired adventurers, drained and exhausted, drowning in their shared sorrows.

Off to the side of the camp was a single tired soul, her green ponytail undone in such a manner to hide the bloodied wounds on her neck and back. Her hands hovered over the head of a child, sparkling white magic dancing from her fingertips in vain.

Terra closed her eyes, a single tear running down her cheek as she gave up. She felt the still-uncomfortable sensation of reverting from her Esper-form. The lifeless body in her lap rolled to the side, long since dead.

It had been a hopeless task: to try to save his life. She should have given up a long time ago, as exhausted as she was. Even tranforming had done nothing. Her Esper-form had never been any more skilled at healing.

She didn't know how long she sat there, the wisp of a spell still glowing on her fingers. But the sound of footsteps eventually brought her head around.

Cyan said nothing as he helped Terra up. The two walked back to the fire. Only Locke glanced up, the only one of them that still had any hope remaining. But the thief saw the look on Terra's face and knew immediately.

Cyan and Edgar had found Locke alive in the wreckage, after somehow crawling his way underneath one of blackjack tables that Setzer had owned. He had been unconscious at the time, but aside from small wounds he had survived. It was a small miracle; neither Cyan nor Edgar could imagine how Locke had managed to avoid being crushed when the airship collapsed. According to what Terra and Siana had told them, the two women had been thrown clear to one side, while Locke had been thrown to the other. The airship had the splintered in two and collapsed, with Locke trapped in the worse of the fragments.

Terra tried to sit down, but ended up simply falling to her knees. Her shoulders shook -- not from the rumbling as another earthquake seemed to pass -- as she struggled to keep her composure.

"It's not your fault," Locke managed to say. Even with a half-injured leg, Locke had made his way beside Terra. His hands were on her shoulders, trying to reassure her.

Even Edgar was silent. He had a look in his face that Locke had never seen in all the time he had known the King. As Returners, they had been through worse. The Empire had never been kind dealing with strife, much less a group that was outright rebellious. Many friends had been lost to the Imperial Army.

They stared at the fire lifelessly. The flickering light showed the looks of despair and pain on each face for a moment before moving on to the next.

Michals was dead. The Lieutenant had been thrown clear of the crash, like Edgar, but had landed on his back. They had found him before the fires of the airship had begun to burn with incredible intensity. Two trees had broken his fall, and his body had been found underneath both fallen trunks.

He was Terra's first patient, before the fires devouring the airship had been put out. Terra had tried to heal the soldier's body, knitting broken bones together and tying flesh back to where it belonged.

He was Terra's first failure.

Terra had cried as Michals thanked her for everything. She had cried as Michals lost his voice, and could only squeeze her hand in reassurance. She had cried as she watched the life disappear from his clear blue eyes.

It marked the beginning of the worst day of her life.

For Siana and Sabin, watching Davis slip away had been beyond painful. Sabin had nearly gotten himself killed to save the pilot buried beneath the bowels of the airship. Davis had been in the engine room giving Setzer the speed he had needed. He was in the engine room when they hit the ground, nearest where the fires began.

And Sabin had pulled him out. Sabin had braved the inferno and personally carried the pilot out -- The martial-artist, ever the aspiring hero.

Davis was equally heroic. He had been burned alive, but refused to die. His skin had turned black and leathery, blood seeping from crisped skin, but he had stayed alive. Yet they could do nothing, even as Terra attempted with all her magic, to save his life.

Davis never even regained consciousness to witness their efforts. His heart had given out -- hours later than they had expected -- and Davis took his last breath in the arms of a teary half-esper.

Minutes later, they found Setzer buried beneath the pillars of the airship. On the bridge until the last moment, Setzer had still been at the wheel when his ship snapped in half. He had still been at the wheel as the forest fell around them. And finally, Setzer was knocked unconscious by pieces of the airship he had tried to save.

Perhaps it was because Setzer still breathed. Perhaps it was because his heart did not simply give out like Davis' had. Perhaps that had given Terra a small sliver of hope. The half-Esper was the only one of them that knew how to cast healing spells and she had tried her best to save everyone.

Setzer did not move. He had not yet woken from the grievous blow to his head and, like Davis, he had been burned quite badly by the fires. But he still breathed.

Yes, it had to be Setzer that had lifted Terra's spirits, even for a short while.

At least, until they had found Strago.

The old man was luckier than most, found underneath a pile of rubble untouched by the fires. Relm had cried seeing her grandfather injured so. She and Cyan had done their best to remove the old man without injuring him further. Though Relm was unpracticed, she and Terra combined their abilities and had somewhat stabilized Strago. Like Setzer, he had yet to regain consciousness. Although Relm needed the reassurance that her grandfather would be alright, they could give none. If the old man slipped away like Davis, well...

They had yet to find Marcus' arm.

Relm and Siana had been looking for a certain plant in the forest shortly after they stabilized Strago. They had found the Captain's body, quite far away from the airship.

He was worse off than anyone else, one leg broken and bleeding heavily from wounds in his chest. His armor was plastered with dried blood, and what little could be done for Marcus was not enough. He remained breathing, but with the extent of his injuries, it was doubtful that he would live through the night.

The last to be found was Gau. The young beast child had been in the engine room as well. Sabin had never seen Gau though, as he had been safely imprisoned beneath fire-resistant canopy that was to be used in case of engine fire. The same thing that had kept Gau from being burned alive had kept him from being rescued.

The young child, no more than thirteen, had suffered a massive concussion to the head. His arm had been broken, and he was suffering from blood loss when Cyan and Edgar found him.

Terra had tried her best, taxed far beyond her limits, to save the child. She had tried for the last two hours, watching Gau fade farther and farther away.

It had been hopeless, she knew. She should have given up, but how could she? He was barely thirteen.

Tears wet her lap. Terra had thought she could cry no more, but as she thought of Gau they welled up uncontrollably.

The small group was silent, surrounded in a lonely forest without as much as a whisper of life. The only noise was the sound of one green haired woman sobbing for her lost friends.

-=-

No one knew how long they watched the fire burn. But at some point after the distant quakes had quieted, Sabin stood up and dug his way through the supplies they had rescued from the airship. They had found a couple packs that had been salvageable, and amongst the supplies, the martial artist found a shovel.

For a long time they sat watching a small fire gradually die down. The sound of Sabin, shoveling alone, would be heard. His grunts of effort, despite the horrendous burns across his body, echoed in the dark forest.

Cyan joined and then shortly afterwards, Locke as well. The three men said nothing to each other but worked together without coordination. They dug from the ground, sharing the two shovels, and expected nothing from those around the fire.

Relm was fast asleep, falling unconscious beside a burned out Terra. The child had used her magic to the point of complete mental fatigue. Working alongside Terra, the two had exhausted their abilities and barely had the strength to move.

Edgar stared into the fire, deep in thought. He did not go to help; his broken arm would only get in the way. But he wanted to do something, anything, to take his mind off the thoughts of their dead friends. He noticed Siana was still tending to the injured: Setzer, Strago, and Marcus.

"My lady, you should get some rest," Edgar said as he approached the Imperial pilot. Siana was about the same age as Terra, Edgar was concerned that she was working herself into an early grave.

Siana did not take her eyes off of Marcus as she gently cleaned off his chest with a cotton rag. "The dirt in these cuts has to be removed or else they'll cause infections," she said plainly.

There was an edge in her voice that Edgar assumed was due to exhaustion. Deciding to be a bit more diplomatic, his voice took on a warm and friendly tone, "you'll do more harm than good when tired; one mistake and you'll just-"

"Then stop harassing me," she interrupted him rudely.

Edgar frowned. It was an undeserved snub, but he let it go. He watched silently while Siana continued her work. She remained focused on her task, applying healing salves after cleaning deep cuts. He decided that she was doing better than anyone else and returned to the campfire. He saw that Terra had also fallen asleep, and he was suddenly reminded of their initial meeting in Castle Figaro. A short-lived smile appeared on his face; his technique really was rusty.

-=-

The campfire, if it could be called as such, had died out. By then it was around midnight by Edgar's reckoning. They had finished the graves and gathered a small pile of firewood in the center. Each grave was marked with a small stone, the best they could find in such a short period of time. In the darkness of the forest, they were the only ones that made any noise. It was completely quiet, unnaturally so, and that only added to the despair they felt. They were alone in the world.

Locke lit the fire and stood back. The dark forest was once again illuminated by flickering orange-yellow light.

The group gathered around the fire, silent.

Terra stared blankly, her eyes long since dry of tears. She had witnessed the worst while trying to save lives. She had watched, her vision hazy while her spells fizzled, as Michals had died in her lap. It numbed her more than the chilly night could.

Beside her, Locke thought of Davis. His fist tightened thinking of how cruel life was. Davis had children, wasn't that what he said? Children that would now be without a father. One day, Locke promised. One day, he would find those kids and tell them how what kind of man their father had been.

Davis Malsbury and Michals Bethon, they had been their allies, their friends. They might have been Imperials but they were good people. Locke took Terra's cold hand and squeezed.

Cyan's eyes were dark and distant. He was no stranger to funerals. He knew that all the tears in the world would not bring the dead back. The knight watched the flames and said his prayers. The words were recited from memory without pause, yet another ally departing the living aboard the Phantom Train.

For Sabin, the loss of Gau had been a terrible blow. It was his fault. He had involved the child personally. He had failed to find him in the engine room. He had left Gau to die in the airship.

The martial-artist was silent. To anyone that might have been observing, Sabin looked like he was mourning the loss of his friends. But to Edgar, there was something else. Edgar could see it in Sabin's eyes. The same look in those blue eyes reminded him of the past, years ago when their father had died of poison. When they were still children themselves but forced to decide the future of their kingdom.

It was not sadness; Edgar knew that Sabin was blaming himself for each person lying in their grave. It was foolish, but Edgar knew that Sabin actually believed it in his heart. As always, his younger brother would carry the burden alone. Yet Edgar knew of no way to reach his twin brother.

Ten years had passed since their father had died from the poison of the Empire. And just like back then, Edgar could do nothing. His eyes wandered across Siana, who was standing close beside his brother. Her red hair was done in a bun, long red locks hidden underneath a beret. She stood tall and proud. Her uniform somehow looked crisp and clean despite the all the dirt and blood. She seemed to be reciting something under her breath, and then a crisp salute -- a clenched fist over her heart -- that was held for far longer than Edgar could watch.

He turned away from the fire, away from the grief and despair, and most important of all, away from the dead.

-=-

It was dark when Edgar woke. He had fallen asleep watching over Relm, concerned for the youngest of their group. With his back against the trunk of a tree and a short sword digging uncomfortably into his ribs, he had slept without the comfort of a blanket or a makeshift pillow. Even the dirt may have been softer than the bare bark that his back chafed against. The few bedrolls they had salvaged had been given to the injured, and then to Terra and Relm first. After that, there was little left to go around.

Edgar took a quick head count. Everyone else was still fast asleep. Edgar shook his head with wonder. It was a small miracle that they had lived through the night. They had been so distraught and unorganized that no one had suggested watches. In the past year there was hardly a single night without at least two people on watch. Yet here they were, in an indefensible open neck of the woods, totally unprepared for any danger.

Of course, none of them expected anyone to chase after them. Certainly not the Imperial Air Force, which had probably been ruined by the beams of light that tore apart the lands. At least the hells that had been visited upon them were indiscriminate. The Air Force was probably scattered across the lands in pieces, and whatever survived was probably no better off than they.

Monsters, on the other hand...

Edgar shook his head. No, there was no reason for the monsters to be still chasing them. Atma Weapon was resigned to the Floating Continent. It had some obscene reason to stay close to the Statues along with the legendary beasts that were the legions it had command over. Command, Edgar scoffed. That was a strange word to describe the control that Atma seemed to wield at times.

No, Atma Weapon would not chase them in vengeance. Not after they left the island. The other monsters were unintelligent beasts; nothing that could track them despite the blazing trail they left across the skies.

Yet Edgar still felt uneasy. Despite cold dictating logic that they were safe, he felt the opposite. Something was getting to his nerves, but he could not figure out what. Supplies were not a problem. Food was actually abundant. They couldn't carry all that Setzer had stored. At the bottom of the airship had been chests of Imperial rations. They were edible and would last a week or two. Setzer had kept a steady supply of the foodstuffs in his cargo bays, for what reason no one knew. They would not have to resort to foraging or hunting yet.

Water was a problem. What little they had would not be enough; they needed fresh water in unbroken skins or bottles. Fortunately there were plenty of those, again Setzer and his miraculous fire-resilient chests. There had even been some Imperial metal canteens. Finding clean water in the mountains might be difficult though. Edgar looked up towards the sky, expecting the black rain he had seen pour from those demonic mushroom clouds. There was nothing... yet.

Their lack of weapons was a serious problem though. Most of their gear had been irretrievable from the wreck, and what they could find had been broken. His favorite spear had shattered at some point during his fall, and much of his armor had been rendered unusable. He had found a short sword at some point during their search of the airship, but there was little else.

Edgar frowned. It dawned on him what was making him uneasy. As a young child he had often camped out in the woods near South Figaro. At that time, it had been peaceful and his father cared little in preparing them for their future. He had enjoyed many a night counting stars beside Sabin. They would ensnare rabbits and make a delicious stew, listening to stories from his father's knights. He could still remember one of the better stories. The Knight had paused, lengthening the suspense. It was then that Edgar could remember the chirping of the crickets, the call of the birds, as he had leaned closer to the fire waiting for the next stunning revelation.

This forest was quiet. Not just quiet, but dead quiet. The serenity of a forest that should have been full of wildlife chilled Edgar to the bones.

Surrounded by unnatural silence and covered by a blanket of darkness, Edgar Figaro stared at the ashes of a long dead fire until sleep took him again.

-=-

"I think I hear water."

They turned to Sabin, who had taken the lead with one of the three torches they carried.

No morning sunrise greeted them when they woke. Instead it was suffocating darkness, cold and unfriendly. According to Edgar, they had rested for well over ten hours. They all trusted Edgar's timekeeping skills. He had proven his ability to keep track of time without tools over the course of their journey. Many of their plans would have failed if it were not for the king.

The sky was still filled with dark black clouds churning violently far above them. Weak, sickly light that made it through the heavy cloud cover could not penetrate the thick canopy of the forest.

Fortunately, the lack of a morning sunrise was their only disappointment. Their first problem was the injured. Terra had checked on the three unconscious men. Setzer, laid out in a makeshift bed of leaves and bandaged all around, was still as docile as when they found him. His breathing was regular now, but his pulse weak. Strago was worse; his breathing was deep and rare. At times, they thought the old man had simply stopped breathing, only to wait a couple of minutes and see him draw another breath. It was nerve-racking.

Marcus made their injuries look like mere scratches. With his broken leg, missing arm, and the huge bandaged gash that had opened his chest and spilled much of his lifeblood, Terra winced in pain every time she looked at him.

Yet three men had made it through the night, and were still alive. That was a small relief.

It was too dangerous to move any of the injured. Terra's abilities had their limits, even with Relm's help. What little in the way of medical supplies they had was either not enough or unsuited to the task at hand. After all, concoctions were made to banish fatigue on the battlefield. They were not a replacement for real rest and capable treatment at the hands of a skilled doctor.

Cyan suggested they make a litter to carry their injured friends. At least if they remained lying down, they might stand the chance of surviving the journey that lay ahead of them.

After they finished a meager breakfast, the second problem became even more apparent. They were fast running out of fresh water.

Since Cyan was the only one who had made litters before, he had stayed behind with Locke to build what they could. Terra and Relm had remained behind as well. Although the reasoning had been so they could watch over the injured, everyone shared the same unspoken concern: the two girls were simply still too weak to travel.

Sabin, Siana and Edgar had struck out from the campsite, each with a torch lit by magic. Searching for water was one priority, trying to get their bearings was the second.

"My ears aren't as good as yours," Siana replied to Sabin. "But considering the thicket, I wouldn't be surprised if there was some sort of mountain stream that flowed nearby."

Siana was in better shape than either of the two brothers. Her injuries were minor and whatever had troubled her mind was pushed aside. She had pulled her long red hair into a pony tail and was now unconsciously twirling it around a finger as she looked around the darkened woods. Her hair looked like it was on fire because of the way their torch-flames danced.

"Agreed, I think we're getting closer to the highlands as well," Edgar commented. "The forest is getting sparser. Perhaps we could climb high enough to find out where we are."

They were completely lost. The mountains north of Tzen were quite expansive. Even when the Empire was expanding its territory, it was rarely traveled by people. With his compass broken, Edgar had assumed the sun would light their way, but the fates had conspired against them. Even the moss that normally grew on the north side of trees was nowhere to be found. Edgar had hoped they could find that moss, he had used the stuff to find his way home in the past. After finding conflicting directions though, Edgar had given up.

"I wouldn't suggest that," Siana said. "So far, we've been lucky and the ground has been pretty even. The closer we get to the mountains, the more difficult it'll be to get around. Especially in this freakish dark... with nothing more than these torches, it will be extremely dangerous. If any of us break a leg-"

"Then I'll just carry you back," Sabin interrupted as he broke a particularly large branch that was in his way.

Siana gave Sabin an irritated glance. "And if you break your leg? You're the least cautious of any of us," she snapped.

Sabin looked back at her, a quizzical look on his face. "Then I'll walk back," he replied nonchalantly as he continued his way through the heavy underwood.

Edgar chuckled at his brother's bravado as they followed the martial artist through the thicket. Pushing aside thorny bushes, they found themselves in front of a small stream of running water.

"Water, like I said," Sabin repeated. "I would never miss the sound of a river."

"This barely qualifies as a creek, much less a river," Siana retorted. The creek was barely two feet deep, though it was quite wide. It looked more like part of a ford than a creek. She bent over, dipping a finger into the cold water. "It's clean," she announced.

Edgar looked down, orange-yellow light from their torches reflecting off the crystal clear water.

"We could follow this to the sea," he said.

"Unless it leads into a valley," Sabin pointed out.

"The lady is right though," Edgar said. "Climbing higher so that we can see over the forest sounds great, and then I think about our total lack of light. Even if we make it without injury, the clouds are still blocking the sun so we probably still can't see anything! Getting back down would be hazardous at best. We're lacking any gear to make the climb, and even if we did, it could be a week's journey before we get high enough."

Sabin filled up his waterskin, shrugging. "If you think it's wise to follow this stream, then I guess we can do it," he said. "What do you think, Siana?"

Siana was filling a fourth canteen; her pack was full of containers that could hold water. She looked up, shaking her head. "We have no other options. The old man won't last long in his condition if we don't get to a doctor soon."

Edgar's mood soured as he thought of Strago passing away. Despite the fact that everyone wanted to keep Relm's mood up, no one was going to lie. The little girl, her age barely two digits in length, was doing her best to keep her grandfather alive. She was perceptive and intelligent. Relm knew the chances better than anyone else.

Edgar pushed the depressing thoughts from his mind, taking a well-deserved swig from his own waterskin in the process. "We better head back. We'll decide what to do when everyone has had something to drink," Edgar declared.

-=-

To Edgar's surprise, they were well-received when they returned to the crash site. They had taken the wrong route trying to return from the stream and nearly gotten lost in the cursed shadowy forest. Frustrated and tired, it was Siana who recognized a curious landmark of a jagged rock jutting out of the ground into a pine, as if the very earth had tried to fell a tree but failed. From there, the three adventurers had found their way back to the crash site, bringing fresh water to a thirsty crowd.

What they had not expected were the smiles on the fire-lit faces of Terra and Relm. It wasn't mere relief, it was actual joy. The two girls were in a happy mood. It was the first smile seen on Terra's face since... Edgar could not remember. Perhaps it was when Gestahl announced his plans to stop the war, many months ago back in Vector. When she had last smiled was no longer important, because things had changed.

Marcus was awake.

As the Captain drank his fill of the fresh water, Locke told Edgar what had happened.

While Cyan and Locke had been making the litter, Terra had decided that she was well rested enough to attempt a few spells she had seen cast in Thamasa. Although Strago had attempted to teach Terra some magic, she seemingly did not have the ability to learn from the books of lore he owned. However, she did try to copy and imitate what she saw.

As unnatural as it was, the younger Relm was actually the more learned of the two magic users. Relm had been schooled by Strago for most of her life and her textbook control of magic was a foil to Terra's chaotic instincts. As a result, Terra managed to stabilize a new healing spell-form with Relm's help.

Unfortunately, they had only one chance to use the spell. Keeping in mind that the effects of healing were not so much of the mind, but of the body, they decided to use it on Marcus, the most grievously injured of the three. From Terra's previous experience with Davis, the injuries to Strago and Setzer could only be overcome by the victim's own strength.

The spell apparently had not worked as they expected. Locke had been busy with Cyan by then, so he had missed out on what had happened. By the time they finished felling the trees and preparing the logs, Terra was taking a nap. According to Relm, Terra had exhausted herself doing all they could for Marcus.

Marcus awoke shortly after they had finished the litter.

Although it didn't seem like he would remain awake and conscious, Relm declared that Marcus was definitely recovering. By the time Edgar, Sabin and Siana had returned, he was wide awake and discussing with Locke what they should do next.

Edgar sat down next to Locke. Siana was checking on Marcus' bandages with a big smile on her face.

"You have no idea how happy we are to see you awake," Edgar said, picking his words carefully.

Marcus nodded. "Siana, I'll be fine, if you could just leave me alone for now," he said.

"Yes sir," Siana naturally responded. She took a seat on a fallen log next to Edgar.

Marcus turned to Edgar. "I think I can say that no one is happier than me to be awake," he said with a wisp of a smile on his face.

Edgar shrugged. "I suppose, but now that you're awake and the litters are made, we have some tough choices to make."

"Yes, Locke gave me an update on the airship crash. I didn't get a good idea where we were before we landed, but I do know the area surrounding Tzen fairly well," Marcus said.

"We have no idea what our bearings are," Edgar admitted. "The stream where we found fresh water is probably coming from the mountains, but that route is too treacherous for this darkness."

"I don't think we would have seen the ocean from the mountains anyways," Locke said. "As I was telling Marcus, I think our best bet is just to stick to the lowlands. It lowers the chances of the ground becoming a hazard, with dead leaves and vegetation hiding pitfalls and other dangers. We can't climb anyways: no light and too many injured. The litters are delicate enough."

"Agreed, but we'll follow the stream we found instead of just sticking the low ground. It should eventually make its way out to the sea," Edgar added.

Marcus nodded. "I agree, although I can't do much in the state I'm in," he coughed. "At least our water supply won't be an issue that way, and we can try to collect berries or something so we do not deplete our ration supply."

"These clouds are the real issue," Edgar stared upward. "Without the sun, it's going to get cold very fast. And from the looks of things, I don't think they're going away for a while."

"Magic?" Marcus asked.

Edgar shook his head. "Probably not," he thought back to the destruction the beams of light had wreaked on the world. "Have you ever seen a volcano?"

Marcus and Siana both nodded.

"An exercise was keeping the Magitek armor working even in extreme conditions," Siana explained. "One of those conditions ended up being in lava caves east of Albrook."

"Then you both know how much smoke rises from a volcano. I think the same thing happened when the Floating Continent unleashed those beams of light," Edgar said. "I can't begin to grasp the implications of what had happened. I'm no scholar. But the clouds aren't magical, although the cause is. I'd guess maybe a couple days at least before the clouds break up."

"A week of darkness..." Locke mumbled.

"Yes, and if making our way through the forest doesn't get us, the cold eventually will," Edgar added. "We had best gather what we can from the wreckage."

The group, their hearts lifted with Marcus' revival, made a final search of the airship. They gathered what supplies they could, especially bandages or clothes. Edgar told them it was going to get quite cold as long as the dark clouds churned above them so they bundled up as best they could.

While Cyan, Sabin and Locke argued about which of the three would carry the litter with Setzer and Strago, Siana and Relm finished a pair of crutches for Marcus. Unfortunately, he had lost one arm, so he still needed help to move around. Terra was hopeful that she could heal his leg by the next day.

Edgar, with his broken arm in a sling, stuffed their packs with everything that was still usable. Even partially burnt bedrolls could be used to keep them warm. He had been told stories of Figaro soldiers in the far north, beyond Narshe. The sun would set for weeks there and the cold was enough to freeze a man's tongue right off.

However, they soon reached the limits of what could be carried. Even Relm would have quite a load, and Cyan and Sabin had the litter to carry along with their own packs. The journey was going to be slow and grueling.

Locke lit two more torches, giving the second to Terra. Locke had avoided carrying Setzer and Strago by volunteering to stay in the lead. It was the most dangerous role since he would be forging a path for everyone to travel. Locke had fashioned a cane out of a particularly thick branch and was testing to see how he could poke at potential covered pitfalls. Once he was satisfied that the stick would easily tell the difference between leaf-covered ground and leaf-covered holes, he took out his knife and expertly carved a handle.

By that time, everyone was ready for the short march to the river. It was getting near sunset, and even if there was no sun to mark the coming of night, their muscles burned from the exhaustion of the day.

Edgar found Marcus and Siana near the graves of Gau, Michals and Davis. Siana held a torch with one hand, her other was steadying the Captain. The two had their heads down and stared at the ground. It was Marcus' moment of respect paid to his friends before they left. Everyone else had already said their piece the night before. For Relm, Terra and Sabin, they seemed to avoid the graves as often as possible.

Edgar said nothing, giving the two soldiers all the time they needed.

Marcus finished his prayer for PFC Davis Malsbury, making a note to himself that he would have to deliver the news to Davis' son. His son was his only child to survive the Esper attack on Vector. Marcus felt a surge of hatred from within, a condemning feeling towards the despicable espers. But he forced the feelings aside, instead turning his attention to the rock that signified Michals' grave.

Lieutenant Michals Bethon of the former Imperial Special Forces would rest for eternity here. Michals had been his best subordinate, both loyal and capable. He had been his closest friend. When suspicion had fallen on the ISF after General Chere's supposed treachery, Marcus had been one of the men under extreme scrutiny. Michals had stood behind with unwavering loyalty. When the ISF was broken up by Palazzo's orders, Michals had turned down a promotion and stayed with Marcus. When news that General Christophe was dead and General Chere had been kidnapped by the Returners, Marcus' request to rescue their General had been turned down. Before Marcus returned to their base, Michals had organized a platoon of former-ISF to go on the mission anyways. And when Marcus had decided to throw his lot in with the Returners, Michals had already been loading supplies onto the Blackjack.

Neither man deserved this, denied the dignity of a proper burial. Marcus would return one day and make sure both men were properly laid to rest.

"For the glory of the Empire," Marcus whispered. His fist went to his heart. Beside him, Siana did the same.

Then Marcus turned to Edgar, a hard look in his eyes. Fire light danced behind, casting shadows across a man marked by battle scars, physical and mental.

"Let's go."

-=-

They made their way to the stream with no problems. Sabin and Cyan managed to haul the litter with ease. It helped that Cyan's armor had been broken and he had tossed the chain mail for a leather vest. Otherwise, the older man probably could never keep up with Sabin's boundless endurance.

Locke led them quite well. He had traveled forests often in the past. Edgar pointed out the path from earlier that day and this time, they did not get lost.

The going was slow but nowhere as slow as they expected. Marcus kept pace with Relm despite his injuries. Strangely enough, Terra had volunteered to help Marcus. Siana had looked quite relieved. Edgar assumed that though the two shared common bonds, it was probably uncomfortable for her to be so close to her commander. Edgar had plenty of experience with authority intruding on friendships.

Meanwhile, Siana told them a story while they walked. A couple years ago, she had been deployed to Tzen. They were to catch a pair of thieves who had apparently stolen a Magitek armor prototype. Chasing the two men had been easy; they left a trail that even a child could follow through the thicket. After all, Magitek armor was not exactly easy to hide or sneak around in.

However as they got in sight of the stolen armor, the two thieves had attempted to use the prototype to defend themselves.

Cyan grimaced as Siana told them how the thieves had foolishly activated the armor. Sabin laughed as he remembered Cyan's attempts to pilot the armor while they escaped the Imperial camps so many months ago.

While the two men shared an inside joke, Siana explained that the thieves discovered how to use the prototype missile launcher. However, they had failed to aim properly and ended up detonating the missile inside the armor. Fortunately for the would-be thieves, the missile was not explosive.

Instead the missile had sprayed sticky white glue on the thieves. The glue had been designed to interfere with other Magitek armor and slow down large groups of enemy soldiers. Detonated at point blank with merely a single armor and two men near it, the adhesive worked wonders.

"When we returned to Tzen," Siana said, "we carted in a single Magitek prototype with both thieves stuck to the sides. The base commander was not exactly too happy about that since apparently, they didn't have anything to dissolve the glue with ease."

They shared a laugh, though it was not because the story was funny. They simply needed to laugh to relieve stress and frustration.

The rest of the trip was in relative silence. Terra and Marcus talked quietly; mostly Terra was concerned with his health. She was unsure of her grasp of the spell's mechanics despite Marcus' assurances that he felt fine. The loss of one arm was a pittance compared to his life and if she could heal his leg, then he would be more than in her debt.

Terra assured him that it was possible, especially with Relm's help. They just needed time to prepare.

"I always thought magic could easily mend broken bones," Sabin said. He looked back at Terra. "Seems like magic should be able to do stuff like that pretty easily, otherwise it wouldn't be magic."

Terra shook her head. "Strago taught me quite a bit in Thamasa. Healing has always been a challenge for them and there are some that dedicate their entire lives to learning how to heal," she said as she tightened the buttons on the tattered pieces of her brown jacket. "I'm trying my best."

"Weird, limits on magic seem to make it..." Sabin trailed off, watching his steps as he led the litter around a particularly thick root along the forest ground. Cyan followed, being careful as to not injure the two hurt men anymore than necessary. "Well," Sabin said as he cleared the obstacle. "It's just less magical, especially after seeing all that Gestahl or Kefka did."

Terra brushed a strand of hair aside, her green hair taking on a strange shade in the yellow-orange light of their torches. "Well it's just hard to heal. I'm trying my best," she repeated quietly.

"Hard to heal but easy to destroy, how fitting," Marcus said. The soldier steadied his single crutch. Since Terra was leading him, she did not see the look in his brown eyes. But the anger in his voice was not lost. "It seems obvious what magic is really meant for: death and destruction."

Terra looked to the ground, her mood darkening.

"It's not my fault," she whispered to herself.

-=-

They reached the river roughly around nightfall, although that was debatable since they couldn't see the sun set. Locke scouted the area with Siana and Edgar, finding a sheltered grove of trees that they could consider camp for the night. They felled a few trees for firewood but did not look very hard for sources of food other than the rations. Everyone was tired and running around in the dark with torches was dangerous enough already. So they ended up eating Imperial rations with a bit of dried fruit and meat for flavour.

When nearly everyone was finished eating and had begun to drift away, Edgar turned to the Captain. "Marcus," he said in between bites of jerky. "What do you think the situation will be like in Tzen?"

"Excuse me?" Marcus asked. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Well," Edgar began, "Tzen will be the closest city once we manage our way out of this forest."

Marcus nodded. "There's a couple smaller villages nearby, but Tzen is the only city this far north," he answered.

"I wanted to know what you think would have happened in Tzen, considering the Floating Continent, the Emperor's death, and those beams of light..." Edgar trailed off.

Marcus looked around, noticing that only Edgar and Siana were paying attention to them now. Sabin had disappeared with a torch soon after he had finished his meal. Terra and Relm were discussing magic farther away. The Doma Knight sat against the trunk of a dead tree, his eyes half closed as he rested. He didn't see Locke anywhere.

Marcus cleared his throat. "Perhaps we should discuss this when we cross that bridge," he said. He did not feel right discussing anything about Tzen, whether Celes had trusted them or not. In the end they were Returners. They were nothing more than Rebels and he was still an Imperial soldier.

An Imperial soldier that had tried to kill the Emperor. That made them traitors, far worse than Returners.

Marcus banished the thought.

Edgar shook his head. "I want to know what we're getting into. It is public knowledge that the Emperor had broken the treaty after the disaster in Thamasa," he stated.

Marcus nodded his agreement.

"And even you were fooled into thinking that we had killed off Leo and Celes," Edgar continued.

"With the help of the Espers," Marcus added. "Yes, we were told that you Returners had betrayed us."

"Right," Edgar said. "Then I don't think going to Tzen, an occupied city, will exactly cause us to be showered with rose pedals."

Marcus sighed. "Tzen is not occupied. It's been years since the war and they're a province within the Empire now. The army's presence there is only for the protection of the citizens," he said. "We protect the people from the monsters and to secure the coast. Every so often, we'll even deal with petty crimes like thievery as well."

Edgar raised an eyebrow. "Do you really believe that?" he asked.

Marcus paused, judging his words. What game was this aristocrat playing here?

"What are you getting at?" Siana put in. She looked angry, although it might've been the fire light coloring her cheeks in disdain.

"Repeating lies adamantly does not make them true," Edgar stated quietly.

"That's ridiculous!" Siana nearly shouted. "Tzen wants, no-" she corrected herself. "They need us there. We've been requested to step in many times by the Governor," she defended. "At least three times that I know of personally."

Edgar narrowed his eyes, a wisp of a smile on his face.

"Siana, stand down," Marcus said. The one armed soldier stroked his unshaven chin. His brown eyes stared daggers into Edgar. "I admit, we've been fooled before by faulty information. Leave Siana out of this though, she's just a pilot. It's not like they get much news anyways." He didn't like anyone picking on his men.

Edgar nodded.

"What are you talking about, Marcus?" Siana asked, now thoroughly confused.

Marcus sighed again. "He's testing us," he answered. "We've been fooled before with covers over our eyes. Now that we see clearly though, he wants to see if we're still so blind to follow the things we're told. After all, selectively telling the truth works better than any lie." The soldier looked into their campfire, using his sword to turn over a log that had grabbed his attention. The orange-yellow light was becoming an annoyance to him; the light, tedious in its unchanging state, was damaging his sight. He paused, letting Siana think things over, before speaking once again. "You're right," he directed at Edgar. "There have been a couple cases of uprisings in Tzen and its surrounding villages... even the city of Ethelben had some problems. We've been told it was mainly due to the work of you Returners, but I'm not sure if that's entirely true anymore."

Cyan took a seat near Marcus. The conversation had caught his interest.

"Tzen has a commander, a General at that, who isn't exactly the kindest," Marcus further admitted. He paused and watched Siana find another seat further away, on the other side of the fire. "Officially it looked like a reward, but it does make sense that there's anti-Empire sentiment there, otherwise someone that prestigious wouldn't have been assigned such a position. I still think you Returners have had your fair share of meddling in things."

Edgar grinned. "I wouldn't admit to it. Figaro is still allied with the Empire," he said with a smile on his face.

"I suppose that's a joke I don't understand," Marcus retorted. The comment made little sense to him. "Either way, there's a substantial garrison in the city of Tzen itself and that's without mentioning the forces located on the coast and throughout the province. With the Emperor's death and General Christophe dead, then Palazzo..." he trailed off.

"Kefka is dead."

They turned around. Locke was leaning against a tree, listening into their conversation from a safe distance. The thief had his headband off and looked horrible in his bloodied white shirt. His blue jacket was missing as well; he had given it to Terra earlier.

"We don't know that," Marcus said. "No one liked General Palazzo, not even Nairne," Marcus nearly spat out the names; such was his hatred of them. Kefka and Nairne had ruined Celes' reputation and caused the mass execution of dozens of her loyal officers. They had even dared sentence her, though that plot had been foiled by the Returners. It was one of the few deeds that redeemed the Rebels in Marcus' eyes. "But he was insane and powerful, and without seeing his body, I don't tr-"

"I trust her! Celes would have finished Kefka," Locke interrupted. His voice was both strong and bold, hiding an underlying current of emotion that threatened to surface.

Marcus paused, his heart and mind fighting for a moment as he wrestled with his loyalty and cold logical reasoning.

"Enough of this speculation," Edgar said. With a few words, he defused the angst-filled situation between the two headstrong men. "Getting back to Tzen, you were talking about the commander there?"

"No, I wasn't." Marcus stroked his chin again. "Palazzo had positioned plenty of his loyal men throughout the Empire in positions of power. He wasn't much of a soldier, but he was good at internal politics. He played the House of Lords against each other and somehow retained the ear of the Emperor. He wrecked the careers of a couple more popular generals, even sending one to a pointless political appointment down in Albrook. Still, I didn't think he would go so far as try to execute General Chere..."

Edgar folded his arms. "Strange, for a mere Captain, you seem to know a lot."

"I am an ISF Captain," Marcus answered.

"So we'll be dealing with one of Kefka's lackeys?" Locke asked.

Marcus laughed, catching everyone off-guard. "No, most definitely not," he replied between chuckles. "General Danielle Meras is a decorated war hero." He saw the questioning look on Edgar's face. "Her actions broke the back of Tzen's Army," he gave them a toothy grin. "She conquered the Kingdom of Tzen a decade ago."

"So she's a bloodthirsty power-hungry Imperial. Well that just lovely," Locke grumbled from the side.

Edgar ignored the comment. "Gestahl is dead and his closest advisors are gone as well. And if I remember my stay at Vector, most of the high ranking folk were slaughtered when the Espers attacked. That means there's going to be a huge power vacuum. What do you think we're walking into?"

Marcus considered Edgar's question. "I can't say for sure. But I know one thing. There's no shortage of ambitious officers; wars tend to bring out those kinds of people," he sighed. He already knew the answer to Edgar's question. "In the past year, Palazzo's control of the Emperor's court wasn't well received by the upper brass. When that monster tried to kill General Chere, it probably sparked the huge reorganization that I found myself a part of. It's likely they were consolidating their power just in case."

"And now?" Edgar asked. "How likely would they use that power?"

"They'd never listen to the civilian leadership," Marcus replied. "That means several generals are commanding mobilized armies in a headless state, chaos and disorder..."

"No..." Siana gasped. She stood up, a look of shock on her face.

Edgar nodded. "I already thought about that. That's probably the worst thing that could happen," he said.

"You were leading me to that conclusion," Marcus accused. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Siana leave. He didn't like the idea of a civil war anymore than she did, but he didn't have any family. Siana still had her mother in Albrook. Marcus turned his attention back to Edgar.

"Perhaps," Edgar said, grinning again.

Marcus shook his head, not enjoying being lead around like a child. The grin on the nobleman's face angered him. "Alright Figaro. You want to know what I think will happen in Tzen?"

Edgar bit off a snappy response.

"Well, I'd say General Meras wouldn't lose control of the city. Her men are fiercely loyal, bordering on fanatical. They'll do anything for her," Marcus said.

"Sounds like someone I know," Locke said under his breath.

Marcus shot a glare at the thief before returning his gaze to Edgar. He stared across the fire at the King of Figaro, a man that was his enemy no less than a week ago. "She's probably locked down the area, mobilized her troops to take whatever supplies are necessary. Considering the Floating Continent, the beams of light, and now these dark skies, if she hasn't deployed every single Magitek unit at her disposal, mobilized the army and declared martial law, then I'm a flying chocobo. It might not have happened yet, but only an idiot would believe the Emperor could have survived on the Floating Continent when it blasted itself to pieces. So soon, very soon, Tzen will be swarmed with soldiers. "

"Outright mobilization. Great, just what I feared," Edgar commented. "Do you think she'll take kindly to us showing up?"

Marcus chuckled at the image that popped into his head. "She'll execute you on sight for assassinating General Christophe. And this time, General Chere won't be here to stop the attack," he said, reminding Edgar of a certain ambush. Just days earlier, Marcus and his men had sprung a trap that would have slaughtered Edgar and all his Returner friends had Celes not halted the strike.

"I wasn't planning on going toe to toe with Magitek armor," Edgar said. "What about you? You said you knew this Danielle, would she take kindly to you? We need to get medical attention for Strago and Setzer," he said.

Marcus shook his head slowly. "She wouldn't remember me. I'm might be a Captain in the ISF, but that's still far below her immediate circle. She'll just assume I'm a grunt that defected."

"Great," Edgar grumbled. "Just great."

-=-

When it was time to sleep, Edgar and Locke had taken the first watch while Cyan and Marcus had volunteered for the most brutal of the three, the middle one. Sabin and Siana had taken the last. Edgar was surprised when Marcus woke up on his own. He had grown used to waking the others when his turn was up. It was nice to work with another professional.

Edgar waited as Cyan slowly got to his feet. Marcus had limped his way to the other side of their camp, so they were alone and out of earshot.

"Cyan," Edgar said quietly.

Cyan had also woken up on his own, though less readily than Marcus. In addition, Edgar could see that Cyan was still tired. That was strange, as normally Cyan would be more alert than anyone else.

The Knight readjusted his sheathed sword before turning to meet Edgar's eyes. His eyes were red, more so than from just fatigue.

"Yes, Edgar?"

Edgar sat down on a log beside Cyan. He lowered his voice. "What do you think of our new allies?"

Cyan's hands were brushing against his tunic in a strange fashion. Edgar wondered what he was wrong. That kind of idle activity was something Celes would normally do, not Cyan.

"He is more than he seems," Cyan said after some thought. "Sir Marcus is a loyal soldier though, capable of thinking beyond the dogma of the Empire."

"So you like him," Edgar concluded.

"Do not assume such things," Cyan glanced over at Marcus. "He knows too much. I would be weary of trusting any Imperial soldier, especially one who is as free-speaking as he."

Edgar nodded. "Very well, then I believe this would be the best time to discuss Setzer."

"His loyalty," Cyan finished in a quiet voice.

"What do you think now?" Edgar asked.

Cyan sighed heavily as he folded his arms. "Setzer returned for us on that monstrosity. Were he still a spy..." he trailed off.

Edgar knew what Cyan was hinting at. They had discussed the possibility that Setzer had been an Imperial spy for a long time now. The two men had never believed the gambler could have been so easily convinced to help the Returners, not when he commanded an airship. Yet Setzer's actions had never been anything less than as a devoted member of their team. Even if his reasons were less than agreeable...

"I mostly agree, Cyan. It doesn't matter whether Strago and Relm were on the Blackjack or not, he still saved our lives when he didn't have to. Perhaps his motives are actually to woo Celes."

"Mostly... thy speech betrays thee," Cyan pointed out.

Edgar nodded. "I won't trust Setzer fully. The airship is a piece of technology that I can't believe Setzer built on his own. He's connected to the Imperials in some manner, and until we find out what that is, I'll always be suspicious. Just look at all these chests of Imperial supplies: rations, canteens, even blankets and clothes. All of it was on the airship even when he wanted the Blackjack to be as light as possible. It doesn't make sense!"

"It is indeed perplexing. I have not an answer to avail thy suspicions."

"I just wish Strago was around," Edgar sighed. "He always had something insightful to point out, something that I never saw even though it was right in front of my eyes. I grew used to his sagely advice Cyan."

"This mystery cannot be solved at the present."

"And he's done nothing but risk his life to help us," Edgar sighed. "You're right, I know. I'm just wasting my time."

"Very well," Cyan unfolded his arms and clutched at his tunic. "I believe we understand one another. He is a comrade-in-arms, and we shalt see to his expeditious recovery. I shalt take my watch now, Edgar."

Edgar nodded and watched him leave. Wearing little more than a ripped up tunic, Cyan looked nothing like a Knight of Doma. His back was hunched and the bandages about his wounds were soaked with dried blood. Streaks of ash and dirt covered what skin was unbandaged. At that exact moment, it occurred to Edgar that Cyan's armor -- one of the few things Cyan had brought from Doma -- had been broken in the crash.

-=-

The rest of the night passed by without issue as the watches were more than sufficient. Each had reported the same: the forest was utterly silent. There was no chase from the Imperial Air Force, no monsters to be fought off, no animals, birds... nothing. Edgar would have shared his concern about the bizarre quietude, but they had too much on their minds already.

There was no change in Setzer or Strago. Though it was good news in a way, it did not help their moods. Terra and Relm were the only ones to have slept the entire night but they still looked tired. Locke and Edgar put on false smiles for everyone else and hid their fatigue. Cyan was reserved as usual and Sabin was irritatingly energetic. He even looked fresh since the bandages that covered his burned skin had been redone, lucky for him to be on the same watch as Siana.

Marcus seemed better. He hid his disappointment when Terra told him nothing could be done for his leg yet.

They set out when everyone had woken and eaten. Torchlight lit their way as they followed the creek. The ground was wet and slippery. Dead leaves covered the lay of the land; a single slip and one might fall dozens of meters. The waterway tended to twist and turn through the thicket, at times sinking lowering into the ground and making it treacherous to follow. Terra and Relm had both fallen twice, Marcus once, before Locke decided they had to stray farther away from the creek. They had been lucky no one had been lost or hurt yet, but they couldn't keep taking chances. They all agreed; the dark forest deadly to travel through with mere torchlight.

The vegetation did not change in any perceivable manner, nor did the ground steadily slope downwards. Locke and Edgar quietly shared words with each other many times, pretending to calmly discuss their surroundings. However, a fight was boiling below the surface. Tension and frustration had grown high and the collision of two strong-willed men left a lasting grudge. In the end, they agreed to disagree. They would follow the waterway by sound and have faith. The creek itself was now much larger, almost a stream, and this was evidence enough for Edgar; they were heading on the right path.

Camp for the night was made a stone's throw away from the stream. They could hear the sound of water trickling close by as they ate, the only sound in the forest to be heard. Their dinner was far better than before. While they had journeyed through the dark woods, Siana had happened on a harvest of berries. After declaring them free of poison, the adventurers had gathered as many of the sweet berries as they could.

It was a small luxury that they could afford.

Later that night, Terra and Relm attempted to heal Marcus' leg. With a glowing blue aura surrounding the two girls, they wove practiced spells around the Captain for nearly two hours. It was quite a long time and those watching had grown tired of the light show.

Cyan remained silent, too silent in Edgar's opinion. But the King was not sure why the knight was so distant. Originally he had assumed it was the age difference. Cyan could pass as their fathers and in Relm's case, grandfather. Taking even that into account, it did not explain the quiet aura that surrounded the former retainer of Doma.

Locke watched Terra for the duration of the spell casting. He was the only one whose interest did not fade.

Green, blue and yellow sparkles of light spiraled around Terra's fingers as she laid one hand on Marcus' ankle. The blue aura around her had turned a warm shade of yellow as she whispered arcane words under her breath. A cascade of white light encircled Relm, whose eyes were closed and hands holding onto Terra's shoulders. The trees around them shone brightly and created a colorful rainbow of reflected light that pleasing to the eyes. It was a pleasing contrast to the monotonous torchlight that had been their only source of illumination.

Then the enchanted luminescence faded away. The forest returned to the orange-yellow flickering of their torches.

Yet as one source of happiness faded, another took its place. A cry of delight rang out in the silent woods. It grabbed everyone's attention with its unique tone. Rare was the sound of good cheer in these past days.

Marcus stood without help. He had one less arm, but two working legs. There was a big smile on his battle-scared face, one that was only outmatched by a joyous Terra.

"By the gods, it actually worked!" Marcus was saying. "I didn't really expect it to work, but it did!"

Relm cheered, "I knew we could do it."

Marcus swept the two girls off their feet, giving both a one armed hug.

"Congratulations," Edgar found himself saying. "And welcome to the club," he added as he rubbed the sling his arm was in.

Marcus laughed. "Maybe these miracle workers can help you as well," he said. "They did in hours what normally takes months."

Terra beamed.

Everyone shared in the celebration; Marcus had become a symbol that things would get better. They told stories around the campfire, sharing in rounds of jolly laughter as they tried to forget the past few days. Between Sabin and Locke, there were comedic stories aplenty. Especially since the two men had decided to start sharing stories of Edgar's rather tragic attempts at flirting with the opposite sex. The King was not too pleased about that development and subtlety nudged the stories to center around Locke's adventures. After Locke had amply embarrassed himself, he tricked Marcus into telling the next story.

In between bouts of laughter while Sabin declared he would tell them a story to upstage Marcus, Edgar noticed that Cyan had hardly joined in the fun. Yet there was a smile was on his face, almost hidden underneath his thick moustache. The King of Figaro grinned. He put an arm around the Doma Knight to make sure he would join in. No one would escape telling something embarrassing about themselves.

-=-

The village of Beckett was in the core of the Empire. Traders from Sellenger would stop in Beckett to stock up on supplies before traveling the narrow and often dangerous Anthony's Pass. People always wanted to avoid going around the mountains -- the Plains of Callaghan were too far to the south and the Gap of Reddenhurst too far to the northeast. Although the rockslides and avalanches of Anthony's Pass regularly claimed the lives of inexperienced merchants, it had been a toll that most were willing to pay.

Nancy was one of those rookies that had decided to try her luck with Old Man Anthony. She led a caravan of chocobo-pulled wagons, filled with foodstuffs that were now several days late. Nancy did not regularly deliver by this route, her produce typically arrived from Fanshaw and so safer to travel through the Plains of Callaghan. This trip was different, it was time-critical and her usual ten-man crew was accompanied by something else:

A squadron of Imperial soldiers.

The brown-uniformed men kept their torches high while they rode slightly ahead. Nancy's delivery had been deemed important enough to require a heavy guard. Even if Nancy wasn't as smart as she was, it would have been easy to guess why the Empire had suddenly sent her an escort. The dark clouds in the sky swirled at great speeds. People had gotten around to calling it the Long Night, and Nancy prayed to the gods that it wouldn't be changed to the Eternal Night.

"Lady," the Imperial officer at the head of the escort motioned for her stop.

Nancy halted her chocobo. She was at the head of the caravan, and the wagon drivers behind also reined in their chocobos. She got down from her wagon and hurried to the officer's side.

"Kurtfield, check ahead," the officer gave orders as he dismounted into a puddle of black tar. The foul stuff clung to his boots and the soldier cursed loudly.

"Dennis?" Nancy had taken care where she walked. She had been lucky enough to avoid the hellrains, but there were plenty of people that told her all about it. She shivered whenever she thought of those that lived through the black downpour. Nothing could remove that sticky stuff. It fell on trees, leaves, hands, even the skin. Their escort of soldiers had kept those afflicted with the hellrain far away. Many that had suffered through the rains had fallen to deadly sickness, or so the rumors suggested. Nancy wondered what the soldiers had been sent to actually guard them from.

Dennis turned to her. "Miss Nancy, right?" After she nodded, he pointed ahead. "The hellrain thickens past this point. Since we're coming close to Beckett, I think we should be on our guard."

"What's happening, Dennis? What should we be afraid of? This black stuff doesn't kill you," she pointed at the ground.

The soldier shook his head. "No it doesn't. But the hellrains only poured near where death beams hit. People near the death beams get sick, body and mind. You should get back to your wagons; we won't be staying in Beckett."

They stayed on the road for another hour until the soldiers returned. Nancy and her fellow drivers exchanged cautious whispers. A few had been brave during the sleeping hours -- that's what the soldiers called it since night meant nothing now -- and snuck away from their escort. They had talked to some traveling away from the cities near the death beams. Everyone had a different horror story to tell and Nancy couldn't believe most of it. Men whose skins had been completely burned off? Women had found themselves with blisters the size of balls all over their bodies? It just wasn't possible. Nancy had seen what fires did, it didn't make skin hang like rags from the bone.

"Miss Nancy," it was Dennis. He motioned at the drivers and they continued along the road finally. When they reached Beckett, Nancy didn't see any of the horror stories. The village was covered in hellrain and in the center a small group of soldiers were standing guard.

They dismounted there and Dennis told Nancy that none of the supplies in Beckett could be trusted. They would just have to take Anthony's Pass without fresh food; if necessary they would dig into the wagons.

"Where are all the villagers?" Nancy asked as she looked around Beckett. It looked like a ghost-town, completely deserted and covered with black, sticky tar.

Dennis shook his head. "Don't ask uncomfortable questions ma'am. You don't want to know the truth."

Nancy paled at the rebuke and hurried back to her wagon. The soldiers were just doing their job, she told herself. She pushed the questions from her mind and went over the checklist for the wagon. As she looked over the wheels, her eye caught movement in between two small shacks. Looking to make sure none of the soldiers were watching her, she snuck over to the pile of week old-trash and realized what she had seen.

It was the body of a man -- well she thought it was a man -- whose entire left side was burned away. The right side was a mass of purple, and on his face, his eyeballs hung out and his mouth was frozen in maniacal grin. The rags that covered his body were charred and at his leg-

Nancy backed away slowly. A weak scream had died in her dry throat as she stared into the wolf's deadly red eyes. It was big. Nancy wondered how she hadn't noticed the grey beast earlier. It was easily twice as big as she was, and its razor sharp teeth shimmered in the light of her torch.

Then the screams of the other drivers came from the wagons. The sound of swords being drawn were heard and desperate cries from the Imperial soldiers as they struggled against the pack of monstrous wolves. Nancy instinctively turned towards the sounds and saw dozens of grey furred beasts. Dennis and two other men had drawn their swords, striking several monsters down before they fell to the hoard.

Nancy started to run. She ran away from the wagons, away from the slaughter, away from Beckett. She dropped her torch at some point and couldn't even see where she was going. But it didn't matter, she just ran far from the sounds of her chocobos dying, far from the death cries of her fellow drivers and vicious growls of the monsters feeding. Nancy tripped and fell into the inky darkness. She vaguely realized that she had fallen off a cliff; the air was whipping past her face stronger than any wind she had felt. Though her heart was still pumping and blood pounding into her head, she felt an odd sense of peace.

Ten seconds later, that peace was permanent.

-=-

Edgar wiped at his brow with his one good arm. He could feel sweat dripping down his back. The forest was getting quite cold by the way their breath left mist in the air. Edgar pulled his coat tighter. He would be drenched in sweat, but if he didn't stay bundled up then he would get sick.

The last few days had seen them cover a lot more ground. Their meals were meager; the remainder of the gathered berries, some trail mix, and the Imperial rations. Everyone was more refreshed thanks to Edgar and Locke. The two had decided -- after a lengthy argument -- everyone needed extra rest. Their arrived conclusion was that Terra and Relm would dictate when everyone else would wake. Usually being on the last watch, they certainly had the power to make such a decree. No one complained. Only Edgar could tell time in the perpetual twilight.

They continued following the stream. In front, Marcus helped Locke search for a good route to ease Cyan and Sabin's injured charges. With two eyes out front, they covered more ground faster. The stream had grown large, rushing waters and a greater depth making it difficult to ford. Many times they had to search for a long way around when a tributary cut them off from the waterway that was their guide.

Muscles began to tire as another day wound to an end. It was then that Locke approached Edgar.

"The plants, have you noticed it?" he asked. He kept his voice low so that no one else heard. Hopefully, everyone else would assume they were discussing camping options as usual.

Edgar nodded. "There have been more and more dead plants, I did notice. It's the lack of sunlight," though he was quiet, he kept the same strong and confident tone.

"I hope it's just that. I have a really bad feeling about this," Locke grumbled before rejoining Marcus in front.

Edgar said nothing.

After camp was made, Terra and Relm worked yet another night trying to revive Strago. However, despite being better rested and a couple days of additional experience, their spells fizzled and deteriorated. The successive failures to help Strago finally took their toll and Relm broke down. While she cried in Terra's arms, the half-esper looked around for help. Around the campfire, there was little reassurance from the rag-tag band of warriors. They had never even given thought to having children, much less taking care of one who was devastated by her grandfather's deterioration. Each gave Terra a saddened look. They could fight to protect lives, topple regimes, and save the world, but they were powerless to reconcile a crying little girl.

That night, long after Relm had fallen asleep in Terra's arms, Edgar and Locke were on the second watch. Though most watches were quiet by their very nature, the two were busy in a heated argument. Locke was adamant that they were wasting time. Edgar disagreed. Even if they were wasting time, there were no other options available. The two debated whether they were headed inland or towards the sea. To that extent, they brought up the plants, the trees, even the color of dirt.

When their watch ended, Edgar got up and went to get Marcus and Cyan. Cyan was fast asleep and required a jab to the side before he would wake. Marcus was sleeping lightly and woke up moments after Edgar disturbed Cyan. The king went to sleep. He was genuinely angry at the thief. There was simply nothing else they could do other than to follow the river. Locke was more and more irritable as the days went by and it was getting on his nerves.

In the morning, their routine breakfast was not so routine for two reasons. The first was a ray of light. The clouds in the sky still cast their dark shadow upon the world, but there was light. It was little and wholly depressing; empty grey beams that filtered through the clouds, neither bright nor warm. Yet it was the first time that day actually seemed like day. Though they still required torchlight in order to travel, it was a heartening feeling.

The second reason was not so uplifting. They had found out when Terra checked up on Setzer.

The gambler had taken a turn for the worse. His breathing had become ragged and his pulse weak. Terra had no idea how long Setzer could last at that rate. Tzen was still far away even if they were near the ocean. Magic had failed so far and there was still the matter of Strago's even worse condition. Were they going camp for a day and let the two girls tax their abilities for a single slim chance? Even worse, were they going to have Terra and Relm choose who would die and who would live?

The choice was obvious; they would go forward and pray they were near Tzen.

The woods were getting colder but they still sweated. It was exhausting following the river, climbing over rocks, cutting through the thick bush and making their way around fallen trees. Fortunately, the deep thick mud that they would have to trudge through had frozen. Between that and the pale light, they made good time. So it was that in the middle of the day, Edgar's worse fears were realized.

The lush green vegetation had been covered with a putrid, smelling black tar. The further they walked, the foul stuff covered more and more of the trees. Soon the plants had disappeared. The grass beneath their feet thinned out and then replaced with barren dirt. The trees around them were nearly all dead, what had not been burned away was covered in the black tar. The ground became hard and ashes from fires were everywhere. They followed the river for a little while longer but everyone already knew the horrible truth.

The group found themselves at the edge of a cliff; unnatural as the ground had simply sloped away. The black waters poured over the side, as if it were following a path that no longer existed. It dived into a crater of hardened rock that was once molten lava, escaping from the innards of the world. Mist floated from the bottom of the crater, obscuring their view of the depths of the unnatural valley.

All around the huge crater, miles across, was the stench of death. Trees had been burned to ashes, the ground horribly defiled. It was the remnants of an inferno that had devoured everything in sight.

Their hearts sank along with the river. It was not the crater that was catastrophic, nor the death and decay around them.

Clearly visible, across the mammoth gorge, were the mountains of Tzen. Formidable peaks of towering rock stood between them and salvation for their friends.