Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Visions of Peace ❯ Hidden in Plain Sight ( Chapter 4 )

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

The Fourth Chapter - Hidden in Plain Sight

Nestil was a town on the northern border of the Empire. It was also the biggest town within two days march of the mountains. In the past, it had been much larger because of the many entrepreneurs living there. Metals and gems were abundant because of its location near the mines. The town had a bustling business district with dozens of competing workshops busy turning raw goods into beautiful pieces of art and treasure.

During the recent year though, Nestil shrank to a shadow of its former self. The mines had been closed by direct orders from the Emperor. Nestil's future seemed to be dead once its businessmen and youth left in droves for better opportunities in the Core. However, people were always ready and willing to adapt. Once the Doma War began, lumber and fishing replaced the former mining and refining industries. The Imperial war machine needed raw materials and Nestil had copious amounts of the stuff and a willingness to supply. The town saved itself from the fate of other mining villages and flourished again.

Now it had a population of nearly a thousand. Abandoned buildings, mostly former workshops, had all been taken up by the townspeople and refitted to house their booming lumber industry. They had yards of treated wood in stockpiles ready to be shipped to the Empire's cities. With such a great reserve of ready building materials, it had been easy to wall off the town when the monsters began to attack.

Refugees from the nearby villages had decided there was safety in numbers. Now Nestil was overcrowded, its population had grown one and a half times the number from the week before. Hastily made tents outnumbered the buildings and the center of town became a great bustling market. Many people from the south had journeyed to Nestil, braving the dangers of the forest in order to sell their goods at exorbitant prices. Food was in abundance if one had the money. Clothing and tools were easily found as well. From useless trinkets to fancy jewelry, hawkers of all types came to ply their wares. Some of the hawkers were even selling charms to ward off monsters.

With so many people, it was almost impossible for the small group of Imperial soldiers to pick out the Returners. Edgar had been quite relieved of that. Nestil had a weak garrison by the Empire's standards, but it was still numbered forty men with Magitek support. As well, these men were defending the town. Fighting would cripple them and Edgar did not wish to do that. He had no quarrel with the Empire if they were protecting thousands of lives from monsters.

Garrett was a blacksmith that had moved to Nestil during its glory days. He had a substantial mansion compared to the typical village house, though that was not uncommon in Nestil. Garrett's talents had been in high demand until cheap materials could no longer be had from the local mines. After that, he began to sympathize with the Returners.

They were fortunate to have his aid, no matter how selfish his reasons. The inns in Nestil were completely packed but Garrett had three deserted rooms. They had once belonged to a lovely friend of Garrett's, but were now barren and neglected.

Garrett had introduced them to the doctor, Kenneth. He was an honest young man who stayed in Nestil to help the villagers out of kindness and not for the money. Thanks to the monsters though, he was beyond busy. Had it not been for Garrett, it was doubtful that Kenneth would have accepted Setzer and Strago as his patients. However, Kenneth had owed Garrett for some favors in the past. Since Garrett owed Locke for more unnamed favors, everything worked out.

-=-

Their first night in Nestil was spent resting and relaxing. They gorged themselves on food provided by their gracious host. It had been a long time since they had ate a large dinner, cleansed themselves with running water and slept on real beds. Being clean and well-rested did wonders for their moods. Terra seemed almost normal again, melancholy instead of suicidal. Relm was more energetic, Sabin was grinning ear to ear and even Cyan had a smile on his face. They ate breakfast with cheer and gusto; the hurts of the past few weeks had washed away with the dirty water of their baths.

Kenneth approached them that afternoon.

The doctor was keen and invigorated despite staying up most of the night to deal with the many patients he had. Those high numbers had both been a blessing and a curse. Edgar knew that the soldiers might occasionally go to the doctor, either to address wounds or to request other services. If any of them recognized Setzer, it would have been a precarious situation. Fortunately, with so many patients, it was doubtful any of the soldiers would even notice. As for Strago, he was from Thamasa and few Imperial men could recognize the wizened sage, if they even knew he was part of the Returners.

"Your friends are better off than I expected," Kenneth was saying. They sat in Garrett's house. The blacksmith had been so successful that he had a room devoted to entertaining guests. Terra and Relm marveled at vastness of Garrett's house, but it was nothing new for Edgar. Business should be done in a room dedicated to such things. It was simply common sense for the King.

"That's good news," Edgar replied. They were all in the meeting room and sat around a large wooden desk. The table was made of polished hardwood that Edgar found delightful to touch. It reminded him of the old wooden tables in Castle Figaro's library: classy, delicate, yet warm to the touch.

"Yes, well I didn't expect much after you told me about your journey. I must say, these two are in incredible health after being on road for so long," Kenneth shook his head in wonder. "Considering you have no one trained to even deal with injuries like this, I'm amazed."

Locke was watching Terra to see if she was going to take credit for her work. Seeing no movement, he started to speak, only to be kicked in the shin by Edgar. A glare from the King reminded Locke that Kenneth, though a friend of Garrett's, could not be fully trusted. Even Garrett did not know about their magical abilities that were granted by the magicite each wore around their neck.

"Anyhow, I'm sure you want to know what's wrong with them. I'll start with the easy one. The old man-"

"Strago," Sabin offered.

"-Strago," Kenneth said, "is in a trance of sorts. I've seen something like it once or twice before when I was an apprentice in Albrook."

"A trance?" Edgar asked. That sounded like something Sabin should have been able to recognize.

"Yes," Kenneth said. "Not too many people know of things like this. Even I don't know how to put myself in such a reverie. I only know how to recognize and treat the symptoms. Simply put, Strago put himself into a very deep sleep to conserve his strength. That's why his breaths are so far apart; he's saving his power so he can last long enough to get medical attention."

Edgar should have been surprised, but found himself smiling at Strago's cleverness. Of course the old man would have known something so arcane. He was a lore master and studied books for nearly all his life. Edgar could not imagine the amount of knowledge Strago had.

"Is gramps going to be alright?" Relm asked.

It was strange for a ten-year old girl to be included in such a discussion but after all she had been through, they couldn't tell her to simply sit on the side. She sat beside Cyan, the older Knight had watched over her protectively ever since the airship crash. Edgar still railed at Locke's stupidity. To include a child as young as Relm in a journey as dangerous as theirs was one of the greatest displays of incompetence he had ever seen.

"He will be fine. The problem is waking him up. I can feed him and prevent him from dying of thirst, but bringing him out of the trance will only be accomplished on his own," Kenneth answered.

So Terra was right, Edgar mused. Strago had been in a situation where only he could save himself.

"As for the other man," Kenneth waited.

"Setzer," Sabin offered again.

"Setzer," Kenneth nodded his thanks to Edgar's twin brother. "Well, he's the difficult one."

"I doubt he knows how to put himself into any trance but a gambling one," Locke mused.

"Well that's part of the problem," Kenneth said. "Setzer was in extremely good physical condition prior to his injury, I can tell that much just by a glance. But something has induced him into a coma; one where he's constantly dreaming."

"Dreaming?" Edgar repeated. "How do you know that?"

"His eyes," Kenneth explained. "When your eyes are constantly flickering, it's a sign of dreams. Something is affecting him from the inside." Kenneth tapped his head. "It's an internal struggle, comas always are, and I can also keep him from dying of thirst and starvation. That's not a real problem, but you should be aware of it nonetheless. The real issue is the toxin."

"He's been poisoned?" Locke asked.

Edgar noted that Terra was right again, aside from the poison. Interesting, he thought. He should mention it to her; it would be good for her confidence.

"Yes, some sort of poison has worked its way into his system. It's a pretty weird one; I've never encountered anything quite like it. I do recognize the symptoms though, and I should be able to easily devise a concoction to cleanse the toxin."

"But?" Edgar knew there was a problem. If there were no issues, Kenneth wouldn't explain something he could easily heal.

"But," Kenneth sighed, "one of the herbs necessary can't be bought here. They only grow in the desert."

"That's a big problem," Edgar said. "There are no deserts anywhere within two weeks of here... and even then, finding something growing in the desert must be ridiculously hard."

"It's not as difficult as you might think. The plant is farmed in Alfort-Brougham since it's quite useful in many mixtures. It's quite costly, but I expect that it could be found in any of the major cities."

"Like Tzen," Edgar continued Kenneth's line of thought.

The doctor nodded. "That's correct; Tzen will definitely have the herb." He pulled a pocket watch from his jacket and looked at it. "It seems I must be heading back. I have written a description and the name of the herb here," he slid a piece paper across the table. "You should be weary of fakes. I've described how to insure that you're buying the right plant, just remember that a visual check is not enough. As for the poison, it's a slow one and I can delay it quite a bit. However, you should try to get the herb within three weeks. I can't guarantee your friend's life beyond a month, even with the antidote at that point."

Edgar stood at the same time as the doctor. They shook hands. "Thanks Kenneth, three weeks is more than enough time to get to Tzen and back. We'll have the herb for you," Edgar promised.

Kenneth nodded. "Then I'll leave it in your hands. You can visit your friends anytime, but I am typically quite busy. You'll have to excuse my directness, but I really have to be leaving."

They thanked the doctor again before he left Garrett's house.

"Well," Edgar said as he sat back down. "It seems we have a problem," he glanced around. Locke was busy reading the description Kenneth had provided. Cyan had a knowing look on his face; he knew the problem as well. Sabin seemed preoccupied with other matters. Siana had a worried look on her face, she knew too. Terra was blank as usual. Relm pretended to be busy staring out the window, but Edgar had a feeling she was all too aware of the challenge they faced.

"Tzen is about a week's march away from Cartha, the biggest town in these parts. Now Cartha is pretty close and they probably have lots of chocobo mounts there, but we can't take any of them," Edgar explained. "That leaves us with hardly any time to spare."

"Why can't we take the chocobos?" Terra asked unexpectedly.

"Chocobos draw attention," Edgar explained. "We can't take that kind of risk, not after Garrett told us martial law has been declared in this province." He gave a glance directed at Siana, who nodded her agreement. "Traveling on foot will be the only possible choice."

"Oh," Terra replied with little substance.

"The problem only gets worse," Edgar said. "We're all pretty famous here; our faces have been on posters for a good half year or more -- especially my good looking mug."

"Troops would recognize you pretty quickly," Siana acknowledged.

"Which means only a couple of us can go to Tzen," Edgar stated. "We can't risk being caught, not with Setzer's life hanging-"

"I have a plan," Locke interrupted.

They all looked at him, frowning at the devious grin on his face.

"What are you talking about?" Edgar asked. He was annoyed at being cut off, especially by Locke. Too often had their conversations back in the forest turned into shouting matches because the thief had no manners.

"I have a plan to get into Tzen. It's pretty simple really," Locke started. His signature smile induced dread in all who recognized it. "You're right; not all of us can go, because we might get caught. The other thing is that we might need a cover story if we do get questioned. So the only ones that can go can only go if it makes sense," he said with relish.

"You're rambling," Edgar pointed out. He folded his arms and prepared to tell Locke that his plan was unworkable. Edgar had done that many times during their journey since the crash. Their watches had been filled with arguments, most of which were due to Locke's incredible naivetÈ.

Locke's grin grew. "This won't be dangerous as long as we pick the right people and our story is plausible," he said.

At this point, Garrett walked into the room and sat down on one of the padded chairs. "Sorry," he apologized. "I'm just tired and need to sit; the hawkers in the market were out harassing my customers again."

No one spoke up. It was not as if they would tell Garrett to leave his own house.

"It's really simple," Locke continued.

In any other case, Edgar would stop Locke from revealing their plans in front of a stranger, but he noticed that Locke trusted Garrett a great deal. He wondered why and mentally balanced the risks they were taking. Locke had definitely been too careless as of late, speaking openly in front of Imperial soldiers, not thinking his plans through, and was far too trusting in general.

"I'll go to Tzen with Terra and Relm."

Edgar snapped out of his thoughts. He glared at Locke and he was not alone. With the exception of Relm and Siana, everyone was giving Locke a dirty look. After all, Locke had just suggested putting Relm in danger. That was unforgivable by itself. To bring Terra along as well, that was just atrocious.

Locke held up his hands in defense. "Before you start killing me with those stares, let me explain."

"That would be a start," Cyan said. When angry, the Doma Knight had a glare that could have frightened a dragon. This was slightly different; there was more murderous rage.

Edgar felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to walk over to Locke and slam his face through the table. Only his years of deportment training had kept the frustration from winning out.

"We can all agree that the three of us are relative unknowns in the Empire, right?"

"No," Edgar retorted immediately. He mentally reprimanded himself. He was letting his rage get the better of him. "Did you forget how much Terra stands out?" he asked in a calmer tone.

"That's the genius of my plan," Locke said. "Everyone stares at the color of Terra's hair. No one really notices what she looks like -- no offense," he added sheepishly.

Terra stared back vacantly.

"If we dye her hair, I bet no one would have any idea it's Terra. They'll all be on the lookout for a green haired girl," Locke finished.

"It's true," Garrett interrupted unexpectedly. "Not to say imply anything," he gestured to Terra. "You are quite attractive, but the only thing I first noticed was the color of your hair. It's very unique."

Cyan folded his arms. "Thy plan involves Relm. Why?" The Knight of Doma didn't just ask for answer, he demanded it.

That got Siana's attention as well. Her narrowed eyes added a fifth hostile stare in Locke's direction.

"If it was just me and Terra," Locke began. "We might get pegged as a young couple fleeing from their parents and family. That kind of tale usually attracts the attention of soldiers faster than an esper."

Siana's gaze softened in understanding. "That makes sense," she admitted.

"What do you mean by that?" Edgar asked.

Siana rolled her eyes. "Children should not be playing around in hopeless relationships."

"But... you're the same age as Locke or Terra," Edgar stammered in confusion. "They're not exactly children."

"We're obviously adults," Siana sighed. "I was talking about kids. Children should be in school learning, or in the military serving the good of their fellow men," Siana said those words as if she was reading from a textbook. "If I were still on patrol, I would send any couple to the stables for a month so that they can do some actual good."

"Ridiculous!" Cyan roared.

"What is? That the Emperor would care for our future and ensure that no citizen would waste their lives?" She folded her arms.

"Gestahl cares for nothing other than himself!"

Edgar suddenly remembered something he had heard. It was from one of the scholars of Figaro. He forgot the name of the man, but the scholar was an authority on the rise of the Empire. Edgar had gone to him shortly after his father's poisoning. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer went the old saying. He had learned much that seemed useless.

Now those tales of political maneuvering, power-plays within the military, and edicts granted to gain public support rushed back to the surface. One particular edict was at the forefront of his memories.

The Morality Crusade.

Locke cast a side-long glance at Edgar. He had a smug look on his face, telling Edgar he had expected that kind of reaction.

"Cyan, now is not the time for this! We have Setzer's life to consider!" Edgar quickly took control of the situation. He could not afford to let Siana and Cyan argue. The two were already exchanging insults at such a pace that he couldn't even distinguish individual barbs. Their screaming echoed throughout the house and gestures were of a culture that Edgar did not recognize. Cyan had been close to drawing his sword, so close that Sabin had already stood up. The way he stood though, Edgar wondered if Sabin was going to stop Cyan or help him.

"Either way," Locke interrupted the King's diplomacy. "If Relm travels with us, we can be brother and sister. Since Relm is there, they would not question that kind of relation. We would be just another family seeking refuge, our parents killed by the horrible monsters."

Siana nodded in approval. "That makes sense. There were quite a few families amongst the groups of refugees. It's unlikely you would be questioned."

Her endorsement did not give credibility to Locke's plan. Instead, it only aggravated Cyan. "I will not allow this!" he declared. His fist slammed down on the table, shaking everyone and leaving no doubt in Edgar's mind that a table of lesser quality would have folded like cardboard.

"Is there another way?" Surprisingly, it was Relm that spoke up. She had a serious look on her face that was directed at Cyan. After a minute, the glower on the Knight's face melted.

"I suppose not," Cyan conceded. "That doesn't make things any easier though, dear one."

Relm gave him an inquisitive look. "Why not? We have to save Setzer, don't we?"

Do we? Edgar wondered. He relaxed into his chair and pondered, confident that the possibility of violence had subsided.

Cyan frowned. It was obvious that he couldn't think of an answer he agreed with. "It's not that simple," he said at last. The authoritative answer of generations of fathers caught off guard by their children was his only resort.

"Why not?"

Cyan was defeated by the innocent retort of generations of children more clever than their father. The Knight shifted in his seat uncomfortably and desperately tried to think of an answer.

"Why Terra? Why not Siana?" Sabin asked as he glanced around the table for an answer. He had saved his friend, though at the same time, he had partially endorsed Locke's plan.

Edgar thought it was Locke that had made such a brainless comment. When he realized it was Sabin, he leveled his most incredulous stare at his brother. Are you stupid? His expression said.

"What?" Sabin raised his hands innocently.

Because she's an Imperial soldier, you nitwit! What happens if she betrays Locke and Relm so that she can get back in the Empire's good graces, you mindless buffoon! Do you even think before you ask these idiotic questions? Edgar felt his right-eye twitch uncontrollably. "We can't take the chance that someone in the Imperial ranks might recognize her," Edgar said instead. "It would be a bigger risk."

"Yeah, Davis said you were pretty well-known since you were piloting Magitek since Tzen's fall," Locke added confidently.

Siana narrowed her eyes. "I was barely old enough to join the academy when Tzen fell," she said incredulously.

Locke blinked. "I must have heard wrong... or something," he stammered, clearly embarrassed. "Either way, what about the plan?"

Edgar sighed. He could not argue against it. It was well reasoned and minimized the dangers that could befall them. Setzer's life depended on their actions. They really had no choice. Edgar looked at the green-haired half-Esper. "Terra," he said softly. "Do you think you can do this? It seems like the best way."

Terra looked down at the table and avoided their eyes. "I can try," she said softly.

Edgar nodded in defeat. "Alright Locke. We'll leave this in your hands. Remember to head to the market before you leave, your clothes right now don't fit the role of an older brother of a peasant family."

"We better head off as soon as we can then, I'll start filling our packs," Locke said as he stood up. "Terra, can you help me?"

She nodded.

Edgar sighed loudly. Sabin leaned against a wall with a frown on his face, and Cyan stormed out of the house red-faced. They were warriors. They had been trained for many things, but first and foremost they protected women and children. Now they stood idly on the side as Terra and Relm walked into danger. Their ineptitude was frustrating.

-=-

Edgar found Cyan behind Garrett's house. His sword was out, and he was making short work of his invisible opponents.

"Cyan," Edgar began. "I'd like to-"

"I do not wish to hear it, King Edgar," Cyan growled as he slashed downwards fiercely.

"Cyan, I don't like Locke's plan anymore than you do. But I see that it's the only way. Put aside your emotions and think this through!"

The Doma Knight had turned his attention to a large pine nearby. He kicked the trunk of the tree and sent leaves floating to the ground.

"Imperial troops would have arrested Locke and Terra, just like Siana said. We have no choice but to include Relm unless you think it's safer sending Locke on his own!"

Cyan had been cutting the air with his Doma-crafted blade, deftly cutting a number of leaves in half. Once there was nothing left to slice, he gestured at Edgar with his weapon. "It is ludicrous that they must travel in this mockery of a family. Your defense of that Imperial pilot's crazed reasoning was an insult to my honor."

"Her reasoning is a result of her conditioning. Cyan, you never studied the Empire like I did. You know nothing of it aside from its military arm," Edgar pointed back at Garrett's house. "Look at our ally here. Is it because of the Empire's soldiers that he assists us? There has always been other ways to bring the Empire to its knees. As the leader of my people, I learned what I could about the Empire. I'm sure your King also did the same."

Suddenly, Cyan swung his blade in a fast, powerful stroke. He almost spun full-circle. Cyan stopped as quickly as he started, his long black hair swung out and wrapped around his neck.

Edgar hadn't even noticed the path of Cyan's sword, but the pine's tree trunk had the telltale mark of a blade traveling through it. Cyan had cut the tree in half without knocking it over.

"You will not bring my liege into this blasphemy!" Cyan ordered angrily.

Edgar shook his head. "Listen to me. When Gestahl was young, he started something called the Morality Crusade. It was an Imperial rescript that ended up gaining him the adoration of nearly every citizen of the Empire. The only ones that weren't affected by his crusade were the nobles, and they aren't worth discussing."

"What does this have to do with anything, Edgar?"

Edgar shook his head sadly. "You're seeing the result now. The edict was made to crush what Gestahl had thought immoral traits. It criminalized the taking of multiple wives, prostitution, sex out of wedlock, the usage of certain addictive herbs, speaking ill of one's elders... it also reinforced certain habits within the populace. Marriage, family, and childbirth were heavily promoted. Education was free for children that showed promise as scholars or were willing to serve in the military. It even spearheaded the growth of their army in order to wipe out the monster menace. For all intents and purposes, it was a wonderful decree."

Cyan had calmed down. "And this is what Siana was quoting," he said.

Edgar smiled. "You noticed it too?"

"'twas was obvious she spoke from rote."

Edgar nodded. "The Imperial education system churns out soldiers that are far worse than her though. Most don't even think things through. I don't know how much Sabin told you about Marcus and Siana, but we had a real bad argument many weeks back. Even so-called Special Forces like those two have difficulty questioning their superiors."

"An admirable trait, though incredibly dangerous," it was the soldier in Cyan that spoke. "The Empire's treachery runs deep, corrupting even children. It is a vile plague that must be removed from this world. But perhaps I spoke ill of its citizens. I had not known such things."

"I knew, but forgot about it. Imperial history isn't exactly useful when fighting a war," Edgar explained. "I learned most of this when I was a child. My father had always followed the old saying: keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. He wanted me to learn as much as I could about the Empire."

"A forward-thinking man, he must have known of the Empire's evils long before they had appeared," Cyan concluded. "I only met your father once, and that was in my youth. He was a great man. I recall that he ended an old blood feud between two of the most powerful nobilities within our Kingdoms."

Edgar sighed. "Yes, father was a great diplomat."

"His son has done no worse."

Edgar made eye-contact with Cyan. The Doma Knight did not look like he was lying. "I drew my people into a war we could not win," the King of Figaro said regretfully. "I failed to send help to Doma because I was afraid of breaking my so-called alliance with the Empire. My meddling saw Narshe come under attack by an Imperial Magitek division. My truce with the Empire was a farce, and I am intimately connected with the massive destruction that the Floating Continent has wreaked upon the world," his shoulders shook with shame. "I am a failure, Cyan."

Cyan was silent for a moment, waiting for Edgar to continue his rant. When no more seemed forthcoming, Cyan sheathed his sword and spoke powerfully. "King Edgar, your hubris has no bounds if you think all those events is your fault."

Edgar opened his mouth, but had nothing to say.

"You would do well to heed your own advice, King Edgar."

-=-

For Edgar, the week passed by quickly despite having little to do other than wait patiently. Since Locke, Terra and Relm had left for Tzen, the four of them ended up fighting over the guest rooms. The fight was short lived though; Cyan was quite explicit that he would have his own room and no one would deny Siana hers. That left Edgar and Sabin to continue a traditional rivalry between brothers.

Edgar ended up with the room and Sabin the couch. Sabin had his freedom, Edgar surmised. The least he could do was to give a king his bed.

During the daytime, Sabin spent his time mediating in the forests. Cyan usually stayed in his room in deliberation, occasionally leaving to practice his swordplay. He had a lot of frustration to let out. Edgar worried about the Doma Knight. Cyan was a smart man, but he often let his emotions get the better of him. Things would deteriorate quickly, especially if the Empire was involved. They couldn't afford any situations in Nestil, not until Strago and Setzer had recovered. Edgar found himself often accompanying Cyan during his practices, even sparring with the elder knight.

Edgar's arm had finally healed; Kenneth had checked it over and gave him an ointment for the itching. Afterwards, Garrett had forged a new spear for Edgar. He had the money and Garrett had the time. The spear created was even better than the one Edgar had lost during the airship crash, mainly because he had a hand in the creation. The weight was almost perfectly balanced and the craftsmanship better than any Figarian blacksmith's. It didn't help against Cyan though. The Doma Knight could overpower him with little effort, outwitted him instinctively, and overwhelmed him with the sheer number of blows. The distraction was a great break from other unsolved issues.

One such issue had been avoided. Siana stayed in Garrett's house without needing to be asked. That was extremely fortunate. Edgar didn't know if he had the tact required to ask such a thing without showing his distrust of the Imperial pilot. It was a couple days after Locke, Terra and Relm departed that this situation would change. Garrett approached them in the morning and asked if they could do some shopping for him. He had been generously offering food from his cupboards and now they were empty. Siana offered to go to the market that afternoon.

Edgar approached his brother the moment Siana had been out of earshot. "Sabin, go with her to the market," he said.

Sabin glared, annoyed at Edgar's attitude. "No," he stated flatly.

"Sabin, don't be so stubborn," Edgar growled. He knew that Sabin and Siana had a tedious relationship that could be best described as mutual dislike, but he couldn't send Cyan. While the knight had calmed down after their discussion, Cyan was still dangerous where the Empire was in question. "I need you to keep an eye on her."

"Do it yourself," Sabin retorted. "I've dealt with her for the past month, now it's your turn."

Edgar's eye twitched. He signed loudly. "Sabin, I don't need this right now."

"Well brother, I'm sick of the Imperial and I'm sick of your orders. You're being selfish and I'm not going to just back down and let you have everything your way."

"Is that what you think this is? Another one of our little sibling rivalries?" Edgar asked. "Did being in the mountains for the last ten years prevent you from growing up?"

Sabin folded his muscular arms for effect. "Give me one good reason why I, instead of you, should tolerate that woman any longer than necessary."

Edgar smiled confidently. "Because you kept her company for the last month. You know her better than me or Cyan, so you can 'protect' her better than we can."

"That is absolutely-"

"-correct," Edgar interrupted. "I don't trust Siana as much as I trusted Celes... yet. But I don't want her to know that. If I follow her around, it'll look worse than if you did."

Sabin was speechless.

"I'm glad you see it my way."

-=-

Sabin carried four heavy paper bags in one hand. Each contained enough groceries to feed a family for weeks, since Edgar had suggested they should not skimp on the costs. After all, they had owed Garrett a great deal for his help. Filling his pantry was just a small favor among the many necessary in order to fully repay him. However, Sabin was rather annoyed at his role.

"I don't see the point of buying so much," he grumbled.

Siana spun around and gave him an annoyed sneer. "I didn't ask you to come. But since you wouldn't back down, then you might as well make yourself useful."

"I told you, I'm here to protect you," Sabin repeated his brother's lies. "That's going to be difficult when my hands are busy carrying enough food to feed a thousand people."

"Protect, right. Because I need babysitting from you," Siana growled sarcastically. She gestured at him rudely and turned back to the shops.

The market was packed. It was uncommon for a small town like Nestil to have its streets filled with people. However, these were not normal times. Nestil's main street had at least four-hundred wandering about. Each day that passed had seen more people abandoning the smaller villages nearby and fleeing to Nestil seeking the protection of the Empire.

The Imperials seemed to be surprised by the development. They had not the manpower to police such a large group and ended up allowing the townsfolk to create a sanctioned militia. The militiamen took on the role of watching the great crowds in the marketplace. They stayed on alert since torches were lighting the streets; it was possible for one errant drunk to burn down the entire town.

Sabin followed Siana around, looking into the stores every so often with a bit of interest. Spending years in the wilderness had given him a great deal of appreciation for the art of cooking. Preparation was the key to any good dish and that started at the marketplace. He gazed at the displays of various fresh meats chilled in buckets of ice. Some were quite fresh. Sabin was especially impressed by a huge boar that hung in one of the displays. His mouth watered at the thought of the beast slowly roasted over a campfire. That boar could satisfy ten men alone without any additional side dishes.

They wove their way through the thick crowd. It seemed like at least thirty more stores had sprung up in the last few days. Many barely qualified as stores; they were nothing more than hastily erected tents and some tables within displaying wares. Many of them had quality goods to buy though, and certainly there was no lack of interest from the immense crowd. Near a particularly popular stand, a fight had broken out between two men. They had pummeled each other for a minute and some in the crowd had even joined in before Imperial soldiers showed up and restored order. Sabin apprehensively noted that it wouldn't take much for a riot to break-out. It was indeed dangerous here, the militiamen seemed powerless to stop the fighting and that meant Imperials would be on their toes.

They passed three more fruit and vegetable stands and Siana gave him yet another bag to carry. Sabin scowled at her but she paid him no heed and returned to the stores. Siana noticed a couple more shady dealers hanging on the side of the road. She even recognized some of the things they sold; her military career had given her plenty of exposure to such concoctions. The one most of hawkers had for sale was Alcatef. A fellow pilot had been caught using the stuff before. Made from a plant that readily grew in the grasslands, it was highly addictive and very illegal in the Empire.

When she was fresh out of the academy, Siana had been put on patrols to fight the sale of Alcatef. She had never been suited for life as a foot soldier though and managed to transfer into Magitek maintenance instead. Still, the urge to arrest and throw scum like those dealers into jail was almost overwhelming. She told herself to calm down and ignore them. After all, it wasn't uncommon for people to have the stuff. It was a crime, but the Empire just didn't have the manpower to crack down on all the sellers these days. Unfortunate, Alcatef twisted people that used it.

They passed by a small charms store, one that caught Siana's interest. She told Sabin to wait while she headed inside.

"This is definitely not what Garrett asked for," he told her angrily.

"Then leave! I'm going in and I don't care what you do!" Siana snapped back.

To her surprise, Sabin turned his back. "Enough of this," though he said it under his breath, it was easily audible.

Siana growled a few choice curses at the rebel's back. They were words that no lady should ever know, but she had been in the Corps and that meant she was no lady. Her mother would have been shamed.

The charms shop was one of the original stores in Nestil. It was actually a building, with prepared displays and properly labeled goods. Half of the tables were empty though; Siana assumed it was because of the sudden increase in shoppers.

The store itself was crowded. There were quite a few people browsing the various aisles. Siana made her way to the trinket that caught her attention earlier, careful not to knock anything. The aisles were quite narrow and her cloak tended to take up far more room than her body did.

The trinket was a beautiful necklace. She wished Marcus was around since he would know if the silver metal was actually silver. With that thought, she felt a renewed pang of loss. She missed him. It had barely been a month, nowhere near enough time for her to get over the loss of such a close comrade. She shook her head, trying to force the unpleasant thoughts out of her mind. Instead, she admired the stone in the center of the necklace. It was a polished blue hue, not a gem, but some sort of rare rock. She didn't recognize it, but it looked perfect set amidst finely crafted metalwork.

Siana brought the necklace to the shopkeeper and asked how much it cost.

"Thirty gil," the shopkeeper replied. She pointed to the intricately carved design around the stone. "It's said that those designs come from ancient-"

"Sure," Siana cut the woman off. It was a good price and there was no need for the shopkeeper to convince her anymore. She paid for the item and turned around.

A man wearing a hooded cloak was directly behind her, unusual since it was a charms store. Most men would never be caught dead inside such a place. Even more unusual was the huge bulk he took up. It was a soldier, Siana knew that instantly. What was a soldier doing here?

She thanked the storekeeper and pulled her hood up. Trying not to make eye contact with the bulky man, Siana carefully pushed her way past.

His arm grasped her shoulder.

"Pilot First-Class Siana Deardon."

Siana turned, a lump growing in her throat.

The soldier pulled off his hood, revealing an unkempt beard and messy dark hair. "You have forgotten me already?"

"Godric..." Siana stammered in complete shock.

"What are you doing here?" Godric asked her. The Magitek pilot narrowed his black eyes in suspicion.

Siana's eyes darted outside. Sabin was gone, thankfully. She looked back at Godric, almost praying that he would be gone and it was all just a product of her imagination. That didn't happen, he was still there.

She cursed under her breath. Of all the people to meet in some pathetic little backwater village like Nestil, it just had to be him. Godric was a fellow pilot in her former company. Even worse than that, Siana had worked with him in Doma; he had been lead and she one of the wings. Her pulse raced upon seeing his familiar face. She had come up with a lie or something plausible.

"What are you doing here?" she blurted out.

"Don't throw questions back at me," Godric scowled. He was getting angrier. "I know the rumors about you; don't tell me that they're actually true."

Of course there would be rumors that she deserted. She had been quite well known for her piloting skills. Her disappearance after Michals had approached her for help saving General Chere from the Returners would have been known. Rumors in the Magitek Corps tended to spread like wildfire whether they were true or not. Right now, she needed something to say that was believable -- a fib to patch this over and get Godric off her back. She needed more time though. She had never expected to have to deal with anyone who knew her personally, much less a former wingman.

"I can explain," she started, her mind spinning as she tried to delay him.

His hand gripped her shoulder tightly; Godric was preventing her from running. "I suggest you start talking now," he said. His voice carried with it a dangerous threat.

Siana gritted her teeth. "Get your hands off of me," she growled.

His grip loosened slightly. "Talk," he ordered.

"No. Not here," Siana answered. She gestured at around them.

The entire store had grown quiet. Nearly every single person was frozen in place; they were frightened by the Imperial soldier.

Godric glanced around. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled at the storekeeper. "Get out!" he screamed.

The woman's face went white. She scrambled from behind the counter and ran outside as soon as possible, behind the crowd of customers that knew better than to test the patience of an Imperial soldier. There was a commotion outside and some screaming. Then everyone filed out of the doorway and in walked the source of the commotion.

"Captain," the Imperial that had walked in was another pilot, Siana noted.

"Cade," Godric acknowledged. "We seem to have caught a deserter here."

"The Corps deals with its own," Cade acknowledged.

Siana didn't recognize Cade, but it was obvious that Godric had been exploring the market with one of his wingmen. She noted with disdain that Godric had been promoted to Captain at some point; that made things even more difficult. In all likelihood, he would be the commanding officer in Nestil. The blade hidden in her boot beckoned, but even if she managed to kill both pilots, their disappearance would be instantly noticed. Siana cursed her luck.

This was, after all, her worst nightmare. There had been others, but this was as bad as it got. Ever since they had returned to Imperial territory, Siana had been trying to figure out what she would do. She didn't know if she had been declared a deserter. If she had been branded, then she was up for a court-martial and a trip to the noose. That had made going back to the Corps almost impossible, if it had even been a choice ever since General Chere had explained to them what the Emperor had been planning.

"What are you doing here?" Godric repeated his question.

She hadn't answered the question then and she didn't intend on answering it now.

"It doesn't look like she intends on talking," Cade mused. The pilot -- First Class like her -- was a tad shorter than Godric. The two were, for the most part, unthreatening. While Godric was an imposing man, he didn't have the size of a real warrior. Still, his Imperial uniform peaked out from beneath the standard soldier's cloak he wore. It was a constant reminder of the real problem at hand.

Siana knew she had to find out how much the two men knew. It could have been a chance meeting, but Siana doubted that. They had confronted her almost immediately after Sabin departed, and in a charms store no less. The thought of Godric in a charms store was laughable.

They had been following her. The question was how long they had been following.

"Godric, cut the useless chatter," Siana replied to her former wingman. She took a deep breath and regained her composure. "You want to arrest me? You might as well execute me now, since my court-martial will last as long as it takes them to sign the papers."

"You know I don't want that," Godric growled back.

"The straight-arrow is going against the rules?" Siana teased. "How unexpected of you."

"It really does look like you have a death wish," Godric sighed. "Listen, you're not the type to just abandon your post. You might bend the rules, but you don't break them. You rarely even talk back to your commanding officer!" He looked her up and down. "How long did we serve together in the ISF?"

"Not long enough for you to look the other way, I'd suppose," Siana replied.

Godric gestured to Cade. "What kind of commander would I be if I did such a thing?"

"The kind that respects his former subordinates," Siana retorted.

"Well that's rather difficult when you're accompanying a Returner!" Godric snapped.

Siana was almost relieved. It was about time that Godric took the bait and showed that he had the upper-hand. She put on her best surprised look for his sake.

"I saw the man you were with. He looked different. The hair wasn't exactly the same as I remember. But there you were in Nestil, weeks away from your proper post in Albrook, accompanying one of the most wanted men in the Empire!" Godric was irate. He was practically screaming, hands waving in the air wildly as he spoke. "It wasn't as if you were being led around, a prisoner or something. You were walking about freely, capable of turning in the rebel at anytime."

Returner. Rebel. Both singular. Siana made sure the look of relief didn't show on her face.

"So what's going on, PFC Deardon? Did you think desertion wasn't enough of a criminal act and you decided to settle for nothing less than execute-on-sight-high-treason?"

"Captain, we should bring her in for questioning. I'm sure the Major would be interested, or we could ship her to Tzen," Cade pointed out.

"Siana, I'm waiting for answer," Godric ignored Cade. "Why are you traveling with the Figarian King?"

Siana was caught off guard for a moment, and then burst into laughter.

Godric and Cade shared a look.

"Looks like the promotion you think you're getting won't happen," Siana laughed. She pointed at Godric. "I'm not traveling with any king. The man's name is Sabin. Remember that."

"What do you think I am, a fool? I've seen the posters," Godric growled back, not at all pleased with the way he was being treated. "And you will remember your place here!"

"I'm already walking-dead," Siana retorted. "And yes, you are a fool. Sabin is the King of Figaro's twin brother. I suppose you didn't realize that because it was in writing and you were busy looking at the picture of the pretty blond man. Didn't your last Captain put down a letter of reprimand on your record because you kept looking at maps instead of reading the briefings?"

Godric smashed his hand against a shelf, knocking it to the ground with a crash. "You disrespectful little traitor!" he shouted, enraged. "Cade! Bind her!" he ordered. He turned back to Siana. "We're going on a little journey, Deardon. I expect you'll be a little more cooperative when you're in chains and the whip strikes," he sneered.

Cade drew his knife and walked up to Siana carefully, but she put her hands out and purposefully rolled her eyes. Cade snatched the necklace out of her hands; Siana had totally forgotten about it.

"This will make a nice gift for my girlfriend," he sneered. Siana did her best to suppress her anger as Cade slipped it into his pocket and pulled out a piece of rope.

"I'm sure when we get through interrogating you and Sabin, we'll have the locations of all the Returners. How far you've fallen, Siana," Godric said.

"Don't make me laugh," Siana replied with as much bravado as she could muster. "I'm only traveling with Sabin out of convenience. When we parted ways, it was just that. You'll never find him again. You should have followed him instead of me, although I guess he would have easily beaten both of you. You were never much of a warrior anyways."

His palm caught her by surprise; the sudden blow to her cheek knocked her back a step. Siana spat the metallic taste out of her mouth and turned her angriest glare on Godric.

"I don't even know anything about the Returners," she growled. "I met Sabin in the forest, he helped guide me back here so that I could get some supplies and that was it; the full extent of his involvement. I barely even get along with him. Of course since you were following me, you would have already known that we aren't exactly friends."

The look on Godric's face was priceless. Siana could tell that he had never made the connection. As Marcus had told her a long time ago, the truth, selectively told, worked better than any lie.

Godric remained silent until Cade had finished the job. The three exited the charms shop, Godric leading, Siana in the middle with her hands bound, and Cade bringing up the rear. The owner was standing outside and shrank away when Godric glared at her.

They walked through the market at swift pace. The crowds parted away when they saw an angry Imperial soldier storming through. Only a fool would get in an Imperial's way and there were two that actually did, too drunk to notice. Those two were roughly thrown to the ground by a furious pilot. No one else made the same mistake again.

Siana grinned to herself. Godric was predictable as usual. By bringing up his bad habits and embarrassments, it had angered him. As usual, Godric made mistakes when emotional; the chief of which was having some green straight-from-the-academy pilot tie her hands. She flexed them now, knowing it was loose enough for her to strike when the chance arose. It had been obvious to her that Cade had never had field experience as a grunt, like she did. Even the short period of time she had spent arresting Alcatef dealers had taught her a few things, such as how to properly tie a woman's hands together.

As they continued through the market, Siana noticed they were passing the shop with the roast boar. Her mental map of the area told her she was rapidly running out of time. She would have to make due with whatever surprise her suddenly untied hands would offer rather than-

Interrupting her train of thought, a sudden cheer came from the crowd ahead. There were a few additional cries, and then the unmistakable sound of fists.

It was her chance.

Godric had stormed ahead, happy for the distraction as it meant he could take out his anger on the brawlers. As he stormed forward, he didn't realize how quickly the fight was degenerating. A few errant blows, shoving between the audience, and people were suddenly beating on each other without reservations. "Stop this immediately!" he shouted with as much strength as he could. He was an Imperial soldier. He would bring order to this situation.

An elbow caught him in the face.

Behind him several dozen paces, Siana quickly spun around. The rope around her hands was now only around her left, and her right hand was bunched up in a fist. Cade had been busy watching Godric, and the surprise on his face never even registered.

Sabin's fist met Cade's face with celerity. Cade was not a small man, but Sabin was easily half a head taller and dozens of pounds heavier. He had been running at full speed, urged by overwhelming need. His momentum allowed him to crush Cade's nose instantly, the Imperial pilot crashing into the ground already unconscious.

Siana's mouth dropped in surprise.

Sabin was not even breathing hard. He glared at the inert body of Cade, watching him for any possible movements.

Siana quickly recovered and grabbed Cade's knife. Without a second thought, she sheathed it in his heart.

"You-"

Siana tried to pull the knife out, but it was stuck. She cursed and instead drew the one hidden in her boot. With relish she ripped open his pocket and retrieved her necklace. She turned to Sabin, who had a look of surprise on his face. That look quickly changed to disgust.

"Come on, we need to get Godric!" she pointed into the rioting crowd.

Sabin frowned. "I will not help you murder and rob another defenseless man," he growled.

"He already knows about you, you stubborn idiot!" Siana found herself smiling when he saw the look of embarrassment on his face. That had taken the self-righteous fool down a notch. "We need to shut him up now!"

Sabin cursed and turned back. The riot was huge now, over a dozen people were fighting and more were joining in the havoc. Those that weren't beating on each other had decided to use the chaos to loot the stands, and that drew even the shopkeepers into the fray.

And just at the fringe were a group of six Imperial soldiers. Four had iron quarterstaffs, but two had drawn their swords. They were shouting and wading into the crowd with deadly intent.

"Too late," Sabin cursed. He grabbed her shirt. "We have to go, now!"

It hit her. Sabin hadn't been coincidentally there and certainly the riot wasn't one of chance. Siana looked at Sabin in disbelief when she realized why her comment had embarrassed him so much. "You started the riot and didn't kill him while you had the chance?" she asked incredulously.

"Now is not the time!" Sabin growled.

Siana shook her head. "You idiot," she whispered.

Sabin pulled her down an alleyway and they disappeared into the crowds of Nestil.

-=-

Locke cleared his throat.

The Imperial soldier looked him over again, his brow wrinkled in suspicion. "Well I don't like the way you're looking at me, but I'm feeling gracious today," he said. He looked over his shoulder, searching for something. "My commander isn't here either, so it looks like what I say goes. I'll let you pass."

Locke gave a nod of his head. "Thanks," he said. He wondered if the soldier was actually suspicious. The Imperial had examined everyone else in the exact same manner.

They were at the entrance to the city of Tzen. Everything before them was heavily guarded: the stone walls looked formidable and brimmed with eagle-eyed archers while the gates themselves had nearly a dozen men standing at guard. They were not normal soldiers, but some sort of elite squadron. Their plate mail was uncommon for Imperials, as were the dozens of different weapons on their persons. Judging from the facial scars on most of the men, Locke doubted the weapons were for show.

Locke, Terra and Relm stood on one of the few bridges leading into the walled city. The soldier in front was dressed in more familiar brown leather armor with an equally familiar grey cloak over top. He handed Locke back his knife. They were at the head of a long line; one they had waited in for more than half a day. He had wondered why the line seemed so slow, but there was no need to wonder anymore. The guard liked to chat with nearly every single person that wanted into the city.

All citizens were required to line up for entrance into Tzen, aside from military personnel and several others with special badges. The number of badge-holders was extremely small though, as evidenced by the long line of various peoples of the Empire waiting.

Tents had encircled the great city and multiplied like rabbits with every passing day. Refugees were fleeing to Tzen in huge flocks, camping outside since they could not afford to stay within the city walls. Everyone wanted to be near the vast military might of the Empire. Certainly there was protection aplenty, even if they camped at the very edge of the city. Those tents stretched on for miles and miles and had thousands of soldiers safeguarding them. Locke had never seen anything like it.

Their journey to Tzen had been relatively smooth; they were not attacked by monsters. The roads had been packed with pilgrims though, singing praise for the Empire during the whole journey. There were at least two dozen of rich backgrounds traveling explicitly to camp outside the city walls.

It was utter insanity.

The guard looked behind Locke. "And these two are your sisters, correct? It must have been a dangerous trip if you had to protect these two."

Locke nodded. "Yes, we've been traveling for a while now. It would be nice to settle down and not have to fear the monsters any longer," he despised the words he said but nearly every refugee they had encountered had spoken of the Empire's benevolent protection. He put on his most innocent face and tried not to puke.

The guard's eyes wandered over Terra. Her green hair had been bleached and dyed to a more natural golden-yellow. They had also cut her hair so that it was no longer partway down her back. It hung, just shy of her neckline, in an unkempt but alluring fashion. The end result was quite astonishing. Terra had always been quite attractive, but as a blond she was mesmerizing. Her deep blue eyes seemed to match the new hair color perfectly. She turned heads everywhere even in the pathetic rags they bought in the Nestil market.

Locke had dyed his own hair as well, turning it a shade of yellow to match Terra's. Relm's hair was already blond, so they did not need to dye her hair. They almost looked like a family. Relm's eyes had a similar shade of blue as Terra's so the two easily looked like sisters. Locke's own brown eyes did not blend in as well, but most of the soldiers had paid attention to Terra and Relm.

"It's a shame that a child so young has to run from monsters," the guard said. He lowered to one knee, rubbing Relm's hair in the process. "Don't worry little one, the Empire will protect you now."

Locke rolled his eyes while no one was looking. "We came here so we could stop running, but there seems to be a lot of people," Locke gestured to the fields of tents. "How can the army protect so many? I mean, you can't fit everyone inside the city."

The soldier stood back up. He still looked at Relm with a grin on his face while he answered Locke's question. "The Imperial Army can protect everyone nearby, there's no need to worry about that. We have a great number of sentries on the outskirts. Not a single monster will make it in sight of the tents before we know about it, and not a single monster will make it much further than that. If they attack in great numbers, then the Magitek squadrons will quickly exterminate them."

"That does sound pretty impressive," Locke lied.

"Impressive would be the Magitek armors farther south," the soldier said with a wistful sigh. "Those great machines could burn through a thousand monsters with a single blast. However, the ones here are still quite powerful; you can sleep well as long as we still draw breath."

"That's good to hear. We should head inside then, to see if there are any accommodations," Locke said.

"Find? You won't find anything now," the soldier chuckled. "All the inns have been packed for weeks, ever since the Long Night began. Even now that the clouds have broken up slightly, I doubt it will change the availability of rooms."

Locke frowned. "Then why would so many line up?"

"To shop of course," the soldier said. He seemed annoyed at Locke's question, as if the answer should have been obvious. "The marketplace stretches for many miles and is much safer to buy goods from than those traveling salesmen that circle the tents. I would avoid those travelers; you never know what you're really buying."

"Of course, thank you for the advice," Locke said as he walked past. "Come on girls, let's go inside the city."

Terra was holding Relm's hand when the soldier took a step forward. The Imperial soldier ended up between Locke and Terra.

"If you need a place to stay," the soldier stared into Terra's blue eyes. "You're more than welcome to find me tonight," he said. "I will be at the Bull's Hearth three hours before curfew." He took her hand and kissed it in a gallant fashion. "I would be honored to show you some of the finer pleasures that Tzen has to offer."

Terra looked uncomfortable. "Thank you," she stammered, unsure of what to say.

Locke was irritated. The soldier was disregarding all the unspoken rules of flirting. Here he was, barely two feet away, and the man was approaching his sister. Even if it was just an act, this was still grounds for brotherly-protection. The soldier was abusing his power as an Imperial officer. "Come on Sarah," he said. "Let's go."

Terra walked by the soldier, the man's hungry gaze following her across the bridge.

-=-

"Stupid corrupt Imperials," Locke grumbled as they made their way through the streets of Tzen. "You're more than welcome to find me tonight," he said in a mockery of the soldier's voice.

Relm giggled. "That's a funny impression," she said.

Locke rolled his eyes. "No less funny that the guard's face, right Sarah?"

Even amongst themselves, they tried to keep from addressing each other by their real names. Aliases had been devised long before they left Nestil, although Relm had decided to change hers shortly after they reached Cartha. Even after a week, there were plenty of times when Locke was about to say their real names, only to sheepishly change it at the last moment.

Terra didn't respond to his joke, as usual.

Locke sighed. He had hoped bringing Terra on a relatively lighthearted trip would brighten her mood. But the opposite had happened; she had just gotten more depressed. In the past, she had put on a charade for Relm. Now she didn't try to look happy.

Tzen was packed, just as the guard had warned them. The streets were completely full, dozens of people on the sidewalks at all times while chocobo-drawn carts passed by on the cobblestone roads. At times, trying to walk through the crowd was like trying to swim upstream. People kept pushing them back and each time made their way past one obstacle, another took its place in the constant flow.

They walked by dozens of warehouses, all filled with machinery and undergoing modifications that would turn them into factories. Locke seemed to recognize a few of the machines, including some cranes. They passed by six more buildings, completed factories that were pumping great gouts of steam from their smokestacks. Finally they made it to the market, a huge bustling place of commerce that put every other town to shame. It seemed like thousands were in the streets. The stores were filled with people; the promenade was bristling with vendors and hawkers of all shapes and sizes, trying to pitch some of the craziest wares imaginable. Although there were a lot more peddlers in Tzen, Locke noticed a lack of the shadier merchants. Unlike the other towns they had passed by, there were no dealers here. At least the Empire had done something right in one of their major cities; Alcatef was horrible drug that was in widespread use. Locke knew a few sympathizers that were totally addicted to it. It was easier to lose oneself in a haze of fantasia than to fight for real change.

The three of them held hands, to ensure they would not get split up in the huge crowd, as they searched for a suitable herb store. Kenneth had suggested they avoided anything cheap, which meant nothing other than a storefront would be suitable. Although Locke had no qualms buying from the stands of traveling businessman, the doctor was quite insistent that nothing other than the best would be acceptable. Considering Setzer's life hung in the balance, Locke did not argue.

Locke was surprised that some of the stores still had goods for sale. It seemed with so many people in the streets, all the shops would have long since been bought out. The storekeepers must have been busy securing supplies and goods to sell. He could see why there were so many vendors though; business was booming despite the preposterous prices. Locke assumed that because the clouds had broken up somewhat, people were willing to spend their life's savings on good cheer.

There were a lot of soldiers in the market. Many were buying merchandise, probably soldiers on their break time having a little fun. Others were chasing girls, and there were certainly no shortage of pretty women willing to entertain them. Locke found his eyes following the finer variety on more than one occasion. But most of the soldiers were actually on duty. Some stood guard near the city lights, probably guarding what was still the primary source of illumination in Tzen. Others watched over the market and got involved whenever a small scuffle would occur. Locke knew that in conditions this crowded, a riot could happen at any moment. The Imperial men made sure that didn't happen.

The herb shop they found was across from a stage of performers. Some brave theater band had decided to perform in the middle of the mob. They drew a great crowd as they danced to an upbeat tune. Locke did not recognize the play but he rarely had anything to do with the performing arts. The only play he had ever seen was the one Celes participated in, back in the Opera House so many months ago.

The inside of the store was quiet. A glance around told Locke the reason, the shop was almost empty of all wares. Locke walked up to the balding storekeeper and inquired about Kenneth's herb. The old man was quite kind but of course they did not have it. The old storekeeper apologized. His store had been quite full earlier, but a great rush in the morning had sold out many of the more popular herbs. As for the rest, a couple soldiers had bought a great deal only an hour or two before. They always bought herbs in great quantities, so the storekeeper felt bad about not being sufficiently prepared. A truly successful businessman would have been able to sell for the entire day, he said. Locke bid the man good day and thanked him for his help. He turned around and explained the situation to Terra and Relm. Terra did not mind exploring Tzen for the afternoon and Relm was enjoying herself. She had been born in Thamasa, a village so small that everyone knew everyone else's names. A city like Tzen was just astounding to her. Just the marketplace alone had more people than she had ever seen in her ten years of life.

They walked back outside and into the great crowd.

Locke felt extremely uncomfortable near so many Imperials. Although it had been his idea and he had great trust in his own plans, it seemed like they were tempting fate. Fortunately, no one had recognized Terra. Though to Locke's dismay, quite a few of the soldiers did notice her. They just noticed her in ways that he did not like. Their hungry looks were dangerous; both for Terra's safety and their attempts to keep a low profile.

They walked around town for another hour, going in circles a few times simply because the crowd forced them. Locke had grown tired from pushing his way through the mob and was about to suggest they take a rest inside one of the many restaurants. While he was looking for a proper place for them to rest though, they noticed the second herb store.

The store was devoid of people, despite the fact that the shelves was completely overflowing with plants and leaves of all colors. Locke was assaulted by the scent of concentrated herbs, a fragrance that he despised. He suppressed the unpleasant memories and decided to hurry so they could leave as quickly as possible.

Since the entire store was empty, the attractive red-haired storekeeper was more than happy to assist them. Locke gave the woman, perhaps Edgar's age, Kenneth's description of the herb.

"Ah, that. I have that in storage," she said.

As the woman headed for the backroom, Locke watched her form in admiration. After the storekeeper was out of sight, he turned back to Relm and Terra. The two girls had not noticed his source of distraction, instead looking at the myriad of herbs that were available on display.

"I've never seen anything like this," Terra was saying. She picked up a few dried leaves with puffy undersides.

"I have, grandpa used to bring this all the time. It's an aumen leaf," Relm pointed to a green sprig that Terra had been looking at.

"That's a pretty good eye you have there, little miss," the storekeeper had returned with a small box in hand. She left the box -- Setzer's only hope for life -- on the counter and knelt so that she was eye to eye with Relm. "Do you like herbs as well?" she asked.

Relm nodded. "Gramps used to take me on walks in the forest all the time. He would point out all sorts of things to me," she smiled widely. "I know all sorts of plants now, like this aumen leaf, and these motherworts," she pointed at yet another plant on display.

The shopkeeper grinned. "That's really nice. I wish I had someone as talented as you to help me out," she said.

Relm beamed.

Locke cleared his throat. He had opened the box and checked the plant on the inside; it matched Kenneth's description exactly. His fingers ran down the sides of the stems as he followed Kenneth's verification procedure. When he was satisfied, he closed the box. "How much is this?" Locke asked. He wanted to leave Tzen as soon as possible. For some reason, this was making him edgy.

The shopkeeper stood up. "Four hundred gil," she said. "It's quite difficult to get these days, and-"

Locke opened his wallet, taking out the money without haggling. "Here, four hundred," he said.

The shopkeeper looked surprised. "My, you're in a hurry but thanks for your business." She took their money and walked back around the counter.

Locke nodded. "Thanks for your help lady," he said waved his hand in appreciation. "Let's go."

"Wait," the shopkeeper had retrieved a small pouch of roots. "What's your name?" she asked Relm.

Relm looked at Locke, who nodded his approval.

"Aria," Relm said. The name she picked was certainly an exotic one.

The shopkeeper gave Locke a quizzical glance.

"I told her not to talk to strangers too much," Locke lied.

"Ah," The red haired woman replied as she looked behind him. "I seem to have more customers. Sorry, I can't play with you any longer Aria. I wanted to see if you knew what these are," she pointed at the bag in her hand.

Locke turned around and froze.

Three extremely large men had just walked in. They were wearing cloaks, otherwise the armor they wore underneath would be plainly visible -- Imperial soldiers. The two larger ones stayed quite far behind the one in the lead.

Probably the ones that had bought out the balding shopkeeper earlier that day, Locke noted. He wondered what soldiers needed so many herbs for as he turned back to Relm and Terra. Relm was staring at the pouch in the shopkeeper's hand, the two whispering names of plant roots to each other. "Come on Aria, let's not waste the nice shopkeeper's time anymore," he said.

Relm looked up at Locke. "Ok big brother," she said with a big smile on her face.

"Locke Cole."

Locke felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He ignored the soldier, pretending that the man was addressing his own comrades.

"You in the brown cloak, Locke."

Locke looked back at the man, he was being addressed now. His heart was beating and he could feel a drop of sweat running down his back. "I'm sorry, were you talking to me? I think you have me confused," he said with his best impression of a peasant afraid of an Imperial soldier. The impression was not hard, he was already scared.

The man pulled down his hood. His hair, shaven smooth on top, seemed strangely familiar. His brown eyes were sharp, like a predator's.

"Locke Cole," he continued without faltering. "Your hair is a different color, but that's acceptable."

Locke's arm strayed to the dagger he kept hidden by his hips. This was a dangerous situation, but his heart was only speeding up in anticipation. He had survived worse problems before. He could handle this. He had to handle this. Terra and Relm depended on him. They had no plans in place for contingency situations.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Relm screamed.

Locke's eyes darted to the shopkeeper. His body froze in shock.

The woman had pulled a knife from behind the counter. Locke felt his blood boil as he watched the shopkeeper lift Relm off the ground, the blade only inches from Relm's neck. He pulled his blade free of its concealing sheath.

"You-" Terra started. Her eyes were wide in surprise, her arm halfway out in the motion of a spell.

"Don't!" the woman threatened. "If you move again Terra, she-" the woman motioned at Relm, "-dies."

Locke felt goose bumps down his back. The woman knew Terra's name. Suddenly, he realized what had happened.

They had been tricked.

"There are only two ways out of this, Locke," the woman continued. "In the first case, this little girl's throat is slit, then you die, and then Terra dies. The second case, you will drop the dagger and the two of you will come with me peacefully."

Locke's eyes checked the door. The two men there were at ease, but they looked ready to cut him down the moment he moved. His heart pounded until he was dizzy, his world spinning as he struggled to think of a course of action.

The other man, standing only a couple feet from him, had his cloak hooked back behind his scabbard.

This was bad.

"You're running out of time," the woman warned. The knife was ever closer to Relm's neck.

This was really bad.

With all eyes concentrated on Locke, no one noticed Terra's right arm moving up and pointing at the woman.

At least, no one but the shopkeeper herself.

Before Terra even whispered the first word of a spell, the knife was a breath away from Relm's neck. Relm was terrified; her eyes were concentrated on the blade that threatened to end her life. Cold metal pressed against her smooth skin and drew a single drop of blood at the point.

"Have you ever seen a child die in front of your eyes, Terra?" the woman asked. Her voice was icy cold. Her expression was a far cry from the friendly look just moments earlier. "I assure you, you're moments from finding out. Is the cost worth it to you? Because losing this little girl means nothing to me."

Terra dropped her hand, unable to bear the thought of causing Relm's death. "No, please," she begged. "I won't do anything. Please, just let her go," her voice was filled with despair as she pleaded with the storekeeper.

"Locke?" the woman turned her attention back to him.

Locke's throat was dry. They had no options. They had walked into this trap without realizing it. By the time it had been sprung, it was already far too late. He gritted his teeth in anger; irate at the fact that the Imperials were threatening a child. Above all, he was enraged at his own stupidity; at his wanton disregard for the danger they had been in the whole day. He had underestimated the Empire and now Relm and Terra would pay for his mistake.

The handle of his dagger dug into his palms, his knuckles white from the death grip on the weapon. He could do nothing now. The moment he moved, Relm would die.

His dagger clattered on the floor.

"That's a good boy," the woman's voice mocked them with its effrontery. "I seem to be lacking manners today, but I'm sure you'll forgive me with time. Since I know all of your names, it would be quite rude for me not to introduce myself."

The red-haired woman had a dangerous grin on her face. Locke had once found her looks to be captivating but at the moment, her gorgeous smile was nauseating.

"My name is Danielle Meras -- General Danielle Meras -- and I welcome you to the Imperial City of Tzen."