Final Fantasy Impact

Fiction based on sources already out, original material and other personally made literature.

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Xanien
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Post by Xanien » Thu Nov 24, 2005 12:16 pm

Book II: Times of Change


Chapter 13: Growing Pains


Fanatics Tower


"What do you mean you have to go?" Gabe asked his daughter as he felt his tough outer exterior start to weaken and his fatherly side beginning to show. How was it possible that Phoebe was this old already? Her golden hair was long and past her shoulders now, along with facial features that were very becoming of a girl her age. His daughter had become a woman literally in the blink of an eye.

"You're so silly daddy," Her response was juvenile in context but in some way logical to Gabe, "Kids go through growth spurts all the time!"

"But not three feet in one day!" He shot back at his daughter who had been an infant only a day earlier . . . but now . . .

Over the course of the night the priests had become bruised and bloodied in their task of detaining the little girl and were eternally grateful that Gabe was now there to take her off their hands. It was a miracle that they were still alive. The girl had thrown everything in the room at them, showcasing amazing strength that no child should be capable of when throwing tantrums. If they tried to grab her and put her into bed, she would fling them away easily and continue going about her business, not heeding their calls so she could devote time playing with toys that littered the nursery.

They thanked their blessed Kefka for protecting them through the evening and proceeded as fast as they could out of the nursery while Gabe distracted the so called "blonde devil". All ten of the priests made a mad dash for the door, screaming and clawing at each other when they became cramped up in the doorway. They pushed through the exit with ferocious anxiety, not caring about injury as long as they left their personal torture chamber. After a few seconds they were gone and the master of the tower found himself alone.

Gabe wasn't prepared for all the drama that had occurred in the last few days. The death of his wife Cirra and the break-in of the Returner's had left the bitter taste of needlessly shed blood in his mouth . . . and now this.

"I can hear mommy's voice," Phoebe told her father as she climbed up on a rocking chair and looked out the window of her penthouse nursery," She's telling me to come and see her! She told me that she misses me . . . Daddy, can I please go?"

"What? No!" It wasn't possible. Cirra had passed away two nights ago . . . "No going anywhere until I straighten this out, okay Phoebe?" This was all too strange Gabe thought to himself. Should he tell his daughter that her mother was dead and that it wasn't possible to be talking with her? Would she even understand the concept of death, or of love that a parent has for their child? But then again, under the circumstances anything could be possible.

He stared at the floor and tried to comprehend what was happening and how something like this was possible. The most difficult thing to explain was WHY it had happened now, and why to him. There had to be an explanation, some reason why he had been chosen to walk this cruel path that destiny had set before him. Deeper contemplation only drew blanks in his mind which caused his focus to shift over to the crib that he had made with his own two hands months ago in preparation for this week.

The thick bars of wood it had been composed of were cracked and broken on the floor, splinters lining the floor around all sides of Gabe. The clothes that had been made for Phoebe had been ripped to shreds and lay on the floor, leaving her almost bare except for a few strategically placed patches of what was still fitting over Phoebe's body. The leader of Fanatics Tower was a strong man of both mind and body, and one of his defining qualities was reason. But taking it all into account, thinking about every possible scenario had weakened him. He began to let any explanation cloud his mind, no matter how convoluted or spectacular it seemed . . . and then it dawned on him.

His daughter was put on this planet for a reason. Her story thus far seemed like that of a legend, something that happened only once every thousand years. Gabe didn't want to believe it, but Phoebe had been fated for something other than to be his child before he had ever come into existence.

‘She looks older already,' he told himself, coming back into the moment after a few minutes in thought.

"May I go, Pleeeease?" Phoebe pleaded while grabbing on her dad's arm.

No one can stop fate, nobody can change what has already been predetermined since the beginning of time . . . Gabe knew this, he believed it.

" . . . " Gabe debated the consequences of his next action with both logic and the love in his heart, "Okay . . . you can go,"

Love won the battle.

"Before you leave though, come up with me to your mothers room. There are some things she would have liked you to have," he said, forcing a smile, "you need some clothes too," They both laughed as he put a woolen blanket over her naked skin and led her out of the nursery. Gabe held the blanket tightly around her innocent body and picked her up into his arms for the first time. Phoebe's hands draped around his wide, bulging neck and her smooth, childlike face pressed against his chest. Sadly, it would probably be the last time as well. The tough man felt bittersweet, holding back the feeling to sob as his daughter moved in lovingly against his embrace and snuggled against his warm body. Her father opened the door of the nursery with his free hand, a refreshing updraft surging up from below and meeting them as they stepped onto the stairway. The gust blew a couple strands of her shoulder length hair over her nose and caused her to sneeze. Gabe thought it was cute, chuckling at her misfortune before she turned and stuck out her tongue at him. They both had a good laugh while journeying up the stairs, but the fun died down as they got closer to the place where Gabe had lived peacefully with Cirra for the past few years of their lives.

Their paradise which stood on top of the world . . . the upward climb didn't take long at all, and in no time he was home, opening the door to the bungalow with a heavy heart while walking in with Phoebe on his shoulders. Gabe sat her down carefully onto the ground, letting her wander around as he took in the sight of the same exact room, the same exact feelings which had filled him the other night. He swore to himself that her scent was still there, lingering on the sheets where Cirra had once lain, soaked and stained with sweat. Water stained the ground and carpet from priests that had been careless carrying bowls of it to the bed, and blood could be seen on wrinkled up sheets near the foot of the bed where the baby had been delivered. It was still so fresh in his mind . . . so painful to be here again so soon . . . but it was necessary.


"Here are your mother's clothes," Gabe said as he pointed to a chest against the white painted wall, "Put some of those on. She would have wanted you to have them . . ." Phoebe skipped over to it as fast as she could and excitedly open the lid. Her total lack of concern or any inhibitions pained Gabe deeply as he watched her fling her mother's clothes everywhere, sorting through what she liked and didn't like. While doing so, the blanket her father had placed across her shoulders fell, revealing her naked backside to him.

"Whoa!" Gabe said, thrown completely off guard by her lack of decency. A normal father would have been used to an accident like this, changing diapers and giving their child baths over the year . . . but everything in this father/daughter relationship was far from normal, "Just tell me when you're done, okay? " He continued while turning around and looking out the window. The rays of sun shone brightly through the double pair of windows, illuminating the poorly lit bedroom in an almost angelic light. Only after a few moments, the shuffling behind him ceased.

"Kay daddy, I'm done" she told him abruptly. He twisted around slowly, catching her visage out of the corner of his eye . . . he almost cried.

"You look just like your mother Phoebe," Gabe comforted her, returning a slight, uneasy smile. His daughter wore a silky forest-green dress on top of a pair of comfortable brown pants. To top it off she wore a pair of walking boots which were a little big but she would manage. It seemed more like a battle uniform than something a dainty girl such as herself would wear . . . but if that was what she wanted, Gabe couldn't tell her no.

After modeling the outfit in the mirror for a few seconds, twirling around, Phoebe sighed and faced her father reluctantly, "Well, I'm going now," She stated, walking slowly towards the door. Her father remained silent, his head bowed in thought and remorse, letting her pass by without any acknowledgment.

"Wait!" Gabe yelled to her. The instincts of a father were still new to him, but he knew that she couldn't leave just as she was, "You're going to need some protection on your journey. I'm going to send-"

"No," Phoebe cut him off, " I have a feeling that mother would have me go alone. Sorry dad . . ."

"Let me give you something to keep you safe at least," Gabe rebutted as he grabbed his daughters arm lightly and led her eagerly to an impressive closet on the opposite side of the bed. He searched for the key that he hid at the foot of the bed, finding it and then unlocking the doors. They creaked from months of disrepair as they swung open all the way, and upon doing so, the father began to explain stuff to his child.

"This is my battle chest. Over the years I have collected countless treasures, weapons, and armor to be used in times of need, " He had swords from the best traveling merchants in Nikeah and S. Figaro, daggers from Tzen, sabers from Albrook . . . all of different shapes and sizes, and rare armor that he found in chests hidden in the deep caves of the wilderness, "You'll need a good weapon. People might try to hurt you while-"

"Mommy will protect me daddy, stop worrying, k? But that brown thing does look nice!" Phoebe said as she grabbed for a thick leather chest guard, "And that robe is pretty as well!"

"This one?" Gabe grabbed his old Tao Robe off its hanger and laid it over his shoulder. Phoebe nodded in agreement and held out her arms as father put the armor on her first. It looked too big at first glance, but once Gabe adjusted the straps and fixed it on her it was fine. After carefully tightening the armor onto her body, he lowered the vibrantly colored robe over her shoulders, straightening it so it covered most of his daughter's body, "This Robe will be very useful. It was once owned by a powerful shaman I knew, back during a time when magic existed. He imbued it with great magical properties, allowing it to mimic any surroundings and camouflage its wearer. However, now the thing is just a plain old robe."

"But it's still pretty!" Phoebe smiled politely at her father even thought she didn't care.

Gabe chuckled, "Yes, yes it is," He smiled to her and she grinned even more. She got on her tiptoes and pecked her dad on the cheek, leading him out the doorway before he could find another excuse to keep her their longer than she wanted to stay.

They didn't realize it at the time, but they had been inside the tower for quite a while. The sun had rose high into the afternoon sky already amongst a few scattered clouds. The entirely metal tower was starting to heat up in the sun, but before it became unbearable to walk on, the two made it to the bottom. A few priests were in the middle of their daily prayer, pacing back and forth along the ground, chanting to the Great Kefka when they saw Gabe come down the stairs with the young woman. Being taught to not ask questions directly to their master, they simply approached him and bowed in respect before going back to their prayer.

It seemed to take forever to get to the foothills of the mountains, but they eventually did. Gabe sure didn't want her to leave him . . . but this was fate. Phoebe looked for one last time at the tower that bore her as it blocked out the sun. It glowed on all sides, appearing to be a huge pillar of light. As she took in the sight for the first and last time, Gabe began to say his farewell.

"So this is good bye?" Gabe asked his daughter softly, almost sadly.

She snapped out of her sudden daze and responded to his query with a prompt tone in her voice, "You make it seem as though I'm not coming back," she was already sounding more mature, "I'll be back once I find mom, alright daddy?"

Gabe seemed to accept that response and Phoebe flashed him one last warm, carefree smile before taking the first step of her journey. The high priest watched sadly as she slowly faded from his view through the winding path leading out of the jagged mountain range, but as soon as she was gone he became his old self once more.

His thoughts shifted back to that of his affairs and to his plans that needed to be carried out before the deadline. The man became calm and cool headed before stomping towards the priests in the middle of their prayer and stopping their procession. With bowed heads they continued to tread forward, not departing from their single file line and bumped into their master with a jolt. They had no idea that Gabe was standing there till the lead bishop slammed into the head priest's rock hard body and tumbled backwards. He took a couple followers down with him to the ground and caused quite a stir.

"Something very bad seems to be going on. I want her followed, " their leader said coldly as he looked for his daughter's outline on the horizon.

"Yes sir, let us go get some supplies and-" the bishop's response was cut short as Gabe barked another order at them.

"No! Leave now!" Gabe shouted, "I can't risk losing her. I'll send more to assist you later. We can no longer be cautious and sneak around. And get rid of that stupid accent."

The eight worshippers of Kefka quickly took off their robes and revealed their true colors as agents of the Empire. They lined up in a formation before leaving, allowing their superior give them a once over before heading out. All wore the same outfits now; a brown Iron Helmet with the insignia of the Mighty Empire, worn down but sturdy battle boots, and matching buttoned long sleeve shirts and pants. The bishop removed his robe to show underneath that it was the same outfit as the others except in different shades of green instead of their brown brown. Out of preference and against protocol, the sleeves on both his arms had been rolled up to reveal his bulky forearms in an intimidating manner. On his left shoulder were three embroidered crests of the Empire, indicating the rank of Commander.

"What are you guys messin' around for? You heard the general! Move out!" The commander shouted at his men, causing them to scatter and start on their mission right away. He then turned back to Gabe, " So I'm guessing that it's finally over, isn't sir?"

"Yes," Gabe replied. After 10 years of deep cover with the zealots at Fanatics Tower and Mount Zozo, it was finally time for the Empire and his Gabe's special-ops team to pull out. The plan would soon be in motion . . . it was finally over.

"Why did you make the decision to pull out now sir?" The commander questioned his superior.

"There is nothing left for me here . . ." Gabe told his subordinate as he thought about why he came back in the first place. He held such great memories of the tower. Playing as kids with Cirra and always getting caught by the guards, getting in trouble with his "parents", his first kiss on the rooftop with Cirra . . . the painful goodbye when he left the confines of the tower to see the world when in reality he was returning to Vector for training, the joyful look on Cirra's face when he returned, hearing that he was going to be a father . . . and then Cirra's death. His world shattered and all the feelings spilled out in the form of anger.

"Nothing?" the commander asked.

"Yes, nothing at all." Gabe sullenly replied, clenching his teeth and tightening his fist.

"What about the King of Figaro? He could pose us trouble if we let him stay here and live. The priests are already going to be suspicious enough," the commander continued to press Gabe for answers, pressing his luck to the edge at the same time.

"Leave him to me. I think that its time we had some fun with his majesty."

"What do you have in mind sir? Torture?" The commander still hounded Gabe instead of catching up with his squad, but it was okay for now.

"Oh, I have something MUCH worse planned for Edgar," Gabe said, smirking, "He's going to be a participant in ‘The Tournament'."

------------

Boo, so I sorta want to start writing this though, but it all comes down to the proper conditions . . . which I don't have at the moment. Boo ... it is such a good outlet for so many things! Writing it therapeautic! I need to do it again! GAHHH!!!
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Post by Trigo » Fri Jan 06, 2006 1:43 pm

this stuff is great keep up the good work
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Xanien
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Post by Xanien » Sat Jan 07, 2006 4:28 am

Holy cow, somebody actually posted a reply! Well thanks Death. I'm going to put out a new chapter as soon as I get a few things out of the way. Maybe in another month or so?
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Post by Trigo » Sat Jan 07, 2006 7:46 am

cool, well i did read infusion 1st and just finished this one
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Post by Xanien » Sun Jan 08, 2006 2:56 am

Keep in mind I'm only up to chapter 14 in this one. The next chapter is about 50-60% done at the moment, so I hope I can get it out by the end of the month. Lots of editting left to do sadly :(
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Post by Xanien » Fri Jan 27, 2006 3:10 am

Chapter 14: Arrival


Inside the black hole was terrifying. Void of all energy, it was a deadly black ethereal mist that sucked away any light that dared to come in contact with it. The three ships tumbled and bounced against one another, tossed against the inner walls of the singularity as they continued the final moments of their journey . . . locked in dreadful, silent, darkness. Madness and panic quickly spread inside each cockpit as people scrambled to get the instruments back online of the escape ships, hoping to activate life support before everyone died of horrible asphyxiation. Their frightened voices and vein screams nullified before the noise even left their lips.

Those that weren't madly smashing buttons cowered in fear, bracing themselves and holding on to one another, waiting for the immeasurable amounts of gravity to crush their ships and bodies within them at any second. They could only hope that it would be quick and painless, merely a blink of the eye and their lives would be over . . . but as the moments passed, and turned into seconds . . . and those seconds turned into minutes . . . the final judgment of their lives never happened. They waited in awe and humility, still holding on for dear life as nothing happened. The ships were pitch black, all sound gone . . . the only sense left to the crews of these ships was touch. Their bodies were still warm, their hearts still beat in their chests . . . and in an instant, each ship shook with horrible force and seemed to shoot faster than light into the exact middle of the black hole. Both escape pods and the plane kept accelerating to mind blowing speeds, seeing specs of light bend and stretch for miles on end in their cabin windows as their bodies felt like they'd be torn apart. Trillions upon trillions of light particles sped by their ships in streaks of white as they went beyond the speed of light, defying all comprehension.

Cid and Shera's pod was the first to experience the awesome speed, one by one the engineers and members of their crew passed out from the radical G-forces being put on their bodies, almost totally restricting the blood flow to their brains.

The view for Cloud was much more severe, almost nightmarish as the remains of the Aeris were pulled deeper and deeper. The hull of the ship of the ship from the original Highwind has been made completely of windows, and right now Cloud WISHED it hadn't been. Liquid light seemed to flow over the few centimeters of re-enforced glass above his head . . . the particles of energy slammed into ship as the vessel went past the speed of light, flowing in contradictory directions all over the hull of the escape ship. He couldn't tell if he was going forwards, backwards, up, OR down . . . the gold haired pilot about to throw up until the final shock rocked his body, sending the ship lurching forward with one last boost of speed and knocking him unconscious.


It wasn't much different in Nanaki's escape pod. Vincent's condition weakened his body and he was the first to succumb to the punishing forces wracking the ship. All hope seemed to be lost . . . who was left and where was this wormhole taking them? The ancient body of Red's was tougher than those before him and he still stood, although unsteadily, aware and awake of what was happening around him. He had the pleasure to see the first glimpse of pure light at the end of cosmic highway. The source of it slowly peeked in through the window and covered Red's body, along with the others. Warm and soothing, it kept his worried heart at peace. There was still a chance . . .

They were still being hurled somewhere at millions of miles per hour, forward so fast that the ship began to vibrate from the friction being put against the hull from microscopic space particles. Every passing moment led to another crewmember succumbing to the power of the forces against their bodies until Red alone was left. At this point, the ancient wanted it all to be over, for the force to overtake him. Was some higher entity playing a cruel joke on him, seeing how long he and the others could take this mental and physical misery until they snapped? No matter what Red expected to happen or predict to happen in the time that passed shortly after, it never did. He had seen the light, and for the rest of the trip he braced himself for the inevitable. The bronze beast felt as though he was prepared for anything . . .

An explosion of light suddenly filled the pod, and soon after it faded. In the brief moments that followed, the pod came to very nasty, abrupt halt. Red was caught off guard and thrown violently against the wall, denting the air purifying system and breaking most of the ribs on his right side in the process. The shock sent him into a stupor, finding himself groggily dragging his body with his two good legs to the window, compelled by some unknown feeling. Nanaki was blacking out, exhausted and battered from his ordeal, but something inside him kept him succumbing to his injuries. Staring out the window, a globe of blue, green, and white met his gaze. In awe of the inspiring, beautiful sight he saw before him, Nanaki slipped out of consciousness. His body fell the ground, limp . . . a faint whisper leaving his lips as his last words . . .

"I can hear the planet's voice"


Skies above Mobliz


Freshly out of their prison and floating near a planet in an unknown galaxy, the ships spun forward slowly, their inhabitants unaware of the fate set before them. The two metal orbs were easily caught in the planet's gravitational pull and quickly began to orbit the planet, slowly descending lower and lower into the crisp atmosphere of this lush blue orb. The same happened to the escape plane, the much larger vessel descending at a faster speed . . . to fast perhaps. If somehow the pods and plane managed to land okay, Cloud and the others would be safe. That is, at least for the moment. Without a conscious pilot to fly each transport, it was impossible to know where each pod would crash, and whether or not they would survive the impact. As luck would have it, Red's ship was the first to fall out of the sky, thousands of feet to the ground below . . .


Town of Mobliz


Mobliz had once been a town like any other on this planet. A small community made up of farmers, blacksmiths, carpenters, merchants . . . but during the year of chaos, the city had been ripped apart and left for dead. The earth opened up, swallowing masses of people in mere moments, and those that survived drowned the in rushing flood of water that followed the sudden changes in tide. Entire families were lost, and many children were abandoned and became unfortunate orphans in the matter of a few minutes. Ever since that fateful day the children had to take care of themselves. There was an unspoken rule that you took care of whomever was smaller than you. You'd make sure that they ate more food than you and that they stayed warmer during the bitter nights that followed an ever darkening day. Following that system they surely would have perished, if it hadn't of been for their savior.

A glowing being fell to the ground from the heavens, immediately reverting back into her human form. Not knowing what to do the children rushed her to their shelter where she stayed for weeks until fully recovering from her wounds. When she finally awoke and saw all these children looking over her, this woman cried . . . sobbing at the dirt covered faces of the orphans. She felt that this new fate that they had to endure was entirely her fault for being unable to stop Kefka on the floating continent, so she took it upon herself that she would endure their pain too. The former magitek solider named Terra became these hopeless kids' guardian. She stayed with them and protected them from the threats of this new, fearful world. It wasn't until her old friends happened upon the town and promised a revolution, an end to all this sadness, that Terra left the children alone. Once she left for the final confrontation with Kefka, the children never left her heart. Eventually she did return to the town, and once again became the surrogate mother to the diminutive inhabitants of Mobliz. Her powers had faded with the destruction of magic, but she was happy taking care of the little ones that had touched her heart just as a regular woman. Her true strength never came from her Esper powers, but from the love that had been locked in her heart for so long.

After the fall of Kefka, hundreds of volunteers made pilgrimages from all over the world to help. They were touched by the courage of these young children who had to grow up without parents and with little chance of survival. Many of the smaller kids were adopted and taken to new homes. A few moved in with distant relatives, but a majority of the population decided to stay, and were taken care of by Terra. Their city was rebuilt almost overnight through the hard work and sweat of carpenters and volunteers from surrounding towns. They also planted crops and other flora to beautify the area and established a trade route that connected the town to the other cities on the continent and a water route as well. The children still had a stake in the town itself, and owned the land once held by their family, but farms had popped up around the city, and new shops were on the outskirts of the city limits. Once a month supplies either arrived by land or sea through the generous donations from places such as South Figaro, Kohlinghen, and Doma. This system relieved Terra of any anxieties she held about the town or the kids well being. Well, as any good mother would do, she did need to worry about the kids, and worry she did . . .


"Billy? Thomas?" Terra yelled at the top of her lungs. All the other children had already gone inside and were already sitting down to eat their dinner except these two boys. It was always them who wanted to stay out a bit longer and play, no matter how hungry they seemed to be, "Boys its time to eat!" she tried once more. This time she heard giggles not to far away and began to walk toward them sneakily. The boys probably thought they were slick but Terra was much smarter than she let on to be. She decided to play their game and acted like she gave up, "I guess they were gobbled up by some monsters, and if not, I bet they will be soon! Oh well," she sighed as she crossed her arms behind her back and walked nonchalantly towards the dining hall, "I guess that means more desert for us as well," she said rather loudly, making sure that the boys had heard her, "I absolutely love those double chocolate chip cookies from Nikeah. They are so soft and chewy . . ."

The two boys couldn't take it anymore, cookies were their weak point.

"I want some cookies!" Billy cried out as he ran out from behind a large barrel that sat in front of an unfinished house.

"Me too!" Thomas chimed in, running with his hands pumping the universal ‘gimme gimme' sign. Halfway to his adopted mother, he tripped and fell flat on his face. He felt his face suddenly run hot with embarrassment as he breathed in a few grains of dirt.

"Oh no!" Terra exclaimed in a very worried tone. She ran as fast as she could to him but it was too late. He started crying a river, wailing at the top of his lung. Terra picked him up and dusted him off as she put him against her chest, trying to comfort him, "There there now," she swayed back and forth, "you alright?" The seven year old shook his head ‘yes' but the tears he was trying to hold back at the moment said otherwise. The gentle, emerald haired woman couldn't help but smile as she wiped his tears away, "It's going to be okay," she consoled him while hushing his whimpering.

Thomas responded to her soft words by latching onto her neck and giggling, "Hey! Come on now!" Terra joked with the boy as he continued to hang on her neck even when she lifted him off the ground.

"Give me a piggy back ride please!" he asked with his cutest voice and widest eyes. Terra couldn't refuse his innocent stare and motioned for him to hop on. It only took him a second and was locked on, wrinkling his mother's favorite white sundress in the process. Little stains had built up over the months but the small sunflower designs could still be seen around the bottom along with an avatar of a moogle. It was the kids' favorite outfit, they always loved to see her wear it. After Katarin and Duane had their child, everybody scrimped and saved and bought it for their adopted mother. It was a small token they could share with somebody they loved so much. Terra had only walked a couple feet when Billy started to cry.

"I'll give you a piggy ride later, okay Billy?" She bargained with the other boy. However, the crying didn't cease. The little boy kept crying and ran past Terra as fast as he could. "What's wrong Billy?" Terra asked the frightened child.

"It's the bad man! He's back again! Don't let him get you mommy!" Billy shouted as he pointed to the sky above their quaint village. Terra looked up and saw what he meant. A huge ball of fire streaked through the early evening sky, leaving a trail of fire and smoke in its wake. It was headed straight for the city and she only had moments to react.

"Get underground NOW!" Terra ran as fast as she could and overtook Billy, picking him up as she madly dashed towards the house that led to the underground cave. Thomas held on for dear life and stayed on Terra's back, starting to cry again as her breathing quickened and eyes became full of fear. The fireball was screaming now and seemed to injure the sky in its wake, falling at hundreds of miles an hour. The frightened few had almost made through the door when the object hit the ground. It sent a massive quake through the ground and threw them off their feet and onto the ground. The lights shuddered and down below bewildered screams rang out.

The unknown object had crashed through the unfinished house they had been at only moments ago. It shattered the walls and crumbled the foundation as it blasted out the other side and dug into the dirt, creating a long scar in the ground before coming to a stop. Its superheated structure had set the broken wood aflame and threatened to put the entire village in flames. When Terra finally built up the courage to poke her head out the safety of the house, she saw that the orb that had done all this damage was smoldering a few hundred feet from the fallen house. It was metallic in appearance, a dull, dirty green with burn marks all over the surface from its fall through the atmosphere.

"Stay here you two," Terra told Thomas and Billy as she crept toward the metal ball apprehensively for a closer inspection. It was very dangerous, perhaps even stupid, but only she could do it. She was scared, taking each step with the utmost of caution. It was as if she feared the ground beneath her feet wasn't entirely stable and could give-way at and second. The closer she went, the hotter the air seemed to be. Sweat beaded off her brow and dripped down her neck. It became so hot at one point that Terra had to stop walking forward and back off until it cooled down, using this time to make sure that the children hadn't followed her.

Dirt and soot were settling in layers on top of the grass and buildings close to the ship when she was finally able to journey forwards once more. With her first step steam shot out of the pod for a couple seconds in a loud whoosh. It caught her off guard and she felt on her backside, quickly scurrying backwards along the ground. Once it had cooled, the latch to the door exploded and blew the door off its hinges, letting it land a couple yards away and leaving a heavy depression in the soft dirt. Stale, recycled air came out of the interior of the ship and blew around leaving the capsule wide open to prying eyes, but Terra had already made her way back to the waiting arms of the boys and was watching to see what would come out of the darkness. She hoped that whatever it was, it was friendly . . .

"Look at that!" Billy shrieked as he pointed to a paw shakily sticking out of the door. Another paw followed and soon the figure of a proud beast emerged from the hole. A feather shifted gently in the mane of the animal as wind blew past it. Blood dripped in many places from its body which seemed to have an effect on the creature's balance. No sooner had it evacuated the escape pod, the beast's legs gave way and caused it to fall to the ground in an unmoving heap.

"Monster!" Thomas screamed as buried his face in Terra's dress. He became too scared and ran underground to hide. Red may have been a monster in appearance, but little did they know of the huge role he would play in saving their world.


Skies above Neo Vector


Cid and Shera's pod had flown a great distance over the strange land. Their trajectory had been set automatically by the ships undamaged navigation system and they were now falling towards the signs of what seemed to be a great city where they could be helped when woken up. The name of the city was Neo Vector: an immense metropolis spanning for countless miles in every direction. Roads formed an intricate design resembling a spider web all the way up to the outer walls of the city, which protected it from attacks and other dangers such as the monsters that roamed its wastelands. But that wasn't the only form of transportation. Located on the top floors of most military controlled skyrises were cavernous hangars that sheltered thousands of fighter planes and Airbases of the Imperial Royal Air force. There were also coal-powered trains that ran to and from all the major parts of the city. Most were used for transporting cargo, but a few took passengers as well. If Cid and Shera had been conscious, they would be hard pressed to distinguish Neo Vector from what Midgar had looked like decades ago on their planet before Mako had been discovered. Soon they would find out that another similarity between the cities was the dictator-like control of the Vector government and how it so closely resembled the cutthroat mega conglomerate known as Shinra.


Bar in the Slums of Neo Vector


"You heard about the monster that attacked us yesterday?" the pub drink slobbered as he asked his traveling merchant friend.

"God, that's been the talk of the town forever, of course I have," the drunk's friend harshly replied as he poured a shot of Chocobo Jack whiskey into a glass.

"The higher ups have ben saying that it was sent by those Returners," the man continued, stumbling over his words, "There's been talk of war too."

"Yeah, I head about that," the merchant responded as he tipped his glass back to drink. Right as the liquid left the glass, a loud boom rang out and shook the entire establishment, knocking over bottles and drunkards alike who fell to the floor. The bartender dodged a glass as it fell from above and tried to save whatever alcohol he could from the bottles that had tipped over. He had to get soaked in the alcohol first before he realized it was an utterly useless task.

"What the hell . . ." the merchant was the first to talk, hell, he was one of the only ones that hadn't passed out that afternoon already. His drink had been spilled all over his work shirt and he tried to wipe it off. His friend the drunk was laughing his ass off at what had just happened to him. The merchant shot him an unamused stare and the abruptness of the gesture caused the drunk to fall out of his chair. When he didn't get back up right away, the merchant got up from his seat to check on him. He walked over to buddy thinking the worse but was relieved when he heard deep snoring coming from him . . . he had passed out. After propping the chubby drunk man in a sleeping position on the table, the merchant ran outside to see what had just happened.

As soon as the door was opened and he walked outside, somebody running by bumped into the merchant pretty hard and sent him to the ground. Focusing as hard as he could, the merchant got back on his feet and followed that person down the street. No sooner had he ventured into the sector square was he met by a plethora of onlookers. A long gash in the pavement cut the top layer of the square in half and finally ended where the group of people gathered. The merchant continued to press onward through the growing crowd and saw that whatever had done this had crashed though the wall of an apartment building on the northeast side of the square. Rubble was still dropping from the fresh hole and furniture had been thrown all around. It was probably lodged in the interior of the building so he would have to get really close if he wanted to see it. The crowd had grown in upwards of 200 people by the time he pushed his way to the front. He saw a shiny object, perhaps metal … and was about to venture inside to see what it was when the military showed up.

All dressed up in their official uniforms of brown and green, they entered the building from another entrance and pushed everyone backwards, away from the scene. "Nothing to see here folks," a green soldier toting a corporal's rank explained," It's time to move along. We'll take care of everything."

And as if they needed any more force, a special civilian model Magitek armor looked over the crowd to keep them in order, it's pilot yelling at the onlookers with a megaphone as the metallic beast clanked around the area. The merchant knew this was something big and that only made him want to find out even more. As time waned on, a squadron of Imperial Airbases flew overhead creating a cacophony of noises amongst the crowd below. Trouble was brewing . . . an uneasiness spread across the bystanders. It was a feeling that nobody had felt since the last great war a few years ago. Were those days or violence and suffering soon to return?


Kefka's Tower


Ever since the intrusion a few days ago, security around the entire tower had been stepped up. Four patrols walked up and down twenty flights of stairs in both directions, and armed sentries were posted every 7th floor. It was a seemingly airtight system. The worshippers lives would be forever changed by the events of that day . . . over 100 people had died at the hands of the three assassins. How had they become so powerful? Only three of them had killed a hundred! If there was more they could have wiped out the entire tower! It was as if they were their own army! The guards were there in essence as lookouts only. If a problem arose they would alert the population, and as a whole entity, the fanatics were unstoppable. No matter how strong the enemy, the tower of worshippers working together could topple civilizations.

However it all depended on these "guardians of the tower" so to speak. If they were spot on in delivering the message as quickly as possible, it could mean the life and death of the entire tower. They had to know and see everything . . . and they had up to now. They had always expected an attack to come from below, and in hindsight that was their gravest mistake.


Escape Ship


"Warning!" The computer voice for the ship blared as auxiliary power began to fill the power lines trying to slow the ship, "Proximity alert! Proximity alert! Initiating emergency ejection sequence . . ."

Cloud was strapped in tightly to the pilot's seat . . . unconscious since the ship had begun it's decent into the planet's atmosphere. Unbearable g-forces had deprived his brain of oxygen and the ship's escape plane was spinning out of control, spiraling white smoke through the sky. Depleted of fuel, and hemorrhaging air, the remnants of Aeris were now nothing more than a missile. Small explosives blew a compartment of the roof off the ship and miniature rockets ignited simultaneously on the side of Cloud's seat, propelling him away from the escape plane and out of harms way. The burst from the rockets abruptly ended and the 300-pound seat suddenly lurched forward and fell with terrible speed. The parachute immediately shot out from the back of the seat and slowed Cloud's drop. Signs of reawakening began to show on his body as his hands twitched. There was a slight grimace of pain on his face as the cold wind bit at his uncovered skin, but all the time he kept his eyes closed.

The ship's retro rockets suddenly cut out and its thrusters went out of control, turning the hunk of metal into a deadly projectile the size of a two story building. It suddenly veered to the right from the drag on the open hatch and pieces of metal of the roof started to rip off, breaking apart the plane from the inside at a terrifying rate. Had this had happened higher up in the atmosphere it would have disintegrated and been nothing more than a shower of heated metal . . . but it was too late. The ship crashed through four floors of the tower, ripping through iron and steel like it wasn't even there. Stone supports crumbled away and fire spread from the chemicals spraying everywhere as the escape plane blew up directly under the next floor. Dozens of bodies were immediately seen being blown from their rooms, falling hundreds of feet to the ground below as their bodies were burned asunder. Guards that had been walking Kefka's tower screamed to the survivors above on the 60th floor and higher, telling them to be calm and await rescue.

The fire was starting to spread, and the high winds near the top of the building were pushing against the only side that remained holding up the upper floors. The flames grew ferociously as the harsh winds pushed them up through the building, and those above had to run to higher ground. The walls creaked and split as the weight penthouse became too much for the supports to bear. The tower leaned dangerous forward, metal barb shattering and snapping as the fires continued to roar. People had evacuated the lower levels at this point and were now anxiously watching from below. Frightened whispers and gasps erupted from the crowd as one of the survivors tried to jump down to the lower levels. He jumped away from the flames, trying to grab onto the handrail and stop this fall but his speed was too great. His hands bounced off the railing and his body slammed into the face of the tower, tumbling bloodily down until his body slammed on the ground.

"Get away from here! There's nothing you can do! The building is going to fall!!!" a survivor screamed from the 63rd floor as the wreckage of the plane tumbled out the backside of the building and was strewn about on the mountain behind.

"Lord Kefka no!!!" the worshippers screamed as they panicked and ran from the base of the tower.

"We have to do something!" a person from the crowd yelled out. He surged forward to run up into Kefka's Tower but a sentry held him back.

"It's too late! Get away from here!" the guard shouted at him. He pushed him to safety just as the only side of the wall gave away. The upper levels slammed onto the lower, extinguishing the flames in metallic dust and cinders and then teetered precariously over the edge. A few tower guardians had been trying to form some sort of ladder to rescue those trapped above but it was too late. They scurried down the stairs fearfully now, falling down their only chance of escapes as the entire building creaked and moaned under the immense pressure being put on it.

People cried in horror and disbelief as the top of the tower scraped against the edge it had landed on and began to fall along side the building. Sparks and fire rained everywhere as the hunk of metal screeched and burned, bodies flying out, some charred and some still alive as the monstrous object feel. It slammed into the mountainside with a thunderous boom and shattered apart. The worshippers below screamed and ran away as a dust cloud enveloped everyone, turning the day to dark for a few minutes as the smoke blew across the valley and blanketed the sun. It was Armageddon.

Eerie silence swept over the few hundred survivors of the calamity. Aside from the occasional coughing and blowing of the wind, there were no sounds. Half an hour later the area had cleared up enough that people were starting to organize and begin a damage assessment. Through the hazy environment surrounding the tower the top could still be seen burning lightly. Debris was scattered at the base of the tower as well as the countryside. Kefka's Tower had somehow survived, but no longer could the people of the dead deity's cult reside there.
Eyes were swollen and red . . . puffy from the tears and dust that had been thrown about. They shifted around in both fear and anger . . . praying, HOPING that the pilot of that plane had somehow survived so they could extract their revenge. And with a strong blow of wind a white parachute near the western side of the mountain range whipped around a seat and the outline of a body.

"No fucking way . . ." somebody said as they saw movement behind the white veil. Then they heard a cough," NO FUCKING WAY! THE MURDER IS ALIVE!"

The fanatics of Kefka's Tower quickly took notice and a few people started to sprint towards the foreign body.

"Don't let him escape!" somebody from within the group shouted out.

What had started as a small group eventually became a stampede as the entire population poured onto the unknowing individual that had killed dozens of people. He had done this . . . the person that would be safe after it was all over. They were bloodthirsty and would take out their anger on him tenfold. The white sheet between Cloud and the mob served as no barrier and it was torn apart in seconds. The first person reached the blonde murderer and greeted him with a nasty right hook that rudely awakened him from his groggy fall and managed to loosen a few teeth. Another person threw a rock at him, knocking his head to the side and somebody else took a mangled piece of metal and sliced his arm with it. A two inch laceration appeared on Cloud's left arm and fresh blood matted down his hair on the same side. The first high priest was about to sink his cold dagger into the cretin's heart when a gunshot rang out. The screams of the mob suddenly subsided and a very large figure walked forward.

"Wait!" it was the third in rank from the top, the Cardinal of Sins. IN reality he was one of Gabe's men from the Empire in disguise, but to the Fanatics he deserved great respect. "Do NOT touch him any further!"

A few of the cult members backed away but the man with his hand on the foreigner spat on his captive and punched him again in the nose, "that's bullshit! He must die!!" The crazed man reached for his dagger and raised it above his head for the final blow when another shot rang out. The attacker suddenly reeled over in pain, clutching his hand as a bullet wounded oozed blood from his palm.

"The Cardinal said stop," a cold hearted, brown haired and blue eyed man commanded as he put his gun back under his robe. It was the head of the defense force, Lord Banes, also one of the undercover agents from the Empire.

"What do you think we should do with him instead!" the wounded worshipper shouted back to him angrily.

"Everybody here lost somebody very close to them. What the HELL gives you the right to take vengeance for all of us? No doubt those evil Returners did this to give us a message, we do still have their leader after all," he looked over to the bruised king of Figaro that had been pulled from the tower by his jailers as the chaos began. The skilled soldier was an exceptional instigator of hatred as he spit out propaganda against the Returners like a seasoned intelligence officer. He knew that it was impossible for them to do something like this, but he was following orders and helping to create as much confusion as possible. It would help the Empire by turning Kefka's followers against the Empire's enemy while at the same time getting them off of their own backs. Thinking on the fly, he came up with yet another brilliant plan," Now we can't stay in the tower anymore. We'll have to move everybody into the mountain shelters by the end of the day. Before this had happened our fearless spiritual leader Gabriel had ordered that the brave king Edgar there be entered into the tournament tomorrow in case you don't remember. Now that we have two Returner infidels, I don't see a better way to get revenge than to let the dogs kill each other! And if one survives we'll have a public execution as well!" The crowd started to stir and talk about his idea, indicating that it was to their approval, "Slave crowns will ensure that each fights to their full potential, and they'll fight to the death! What say you my brothers and sisters?!?!?"

"It's a grand idea brother Banes," the Cardinal vocally agreed. Other priests and worshippers nodded their head and also voiced their agreement after the high priest had. A brisk rain had begun to fall in the valley, sweeping away the remaining smoke and putting out the smoldering fires up above. The people were worried but confident in their leaders, and were relieved that the perpetrator would be dealt with accordingly and quickly.

"Now everybody, we are a strong people! We have survived and we will continue to survive. Let us come together in our most dire time and become even stronger! Move whatever you can into your new residences in the mountains. Look for wounded and prepare yourselves for the coming weeks! Our destiny is upon us, we can't fail here and now!" Banes shouted to the crowd energetically. The people of Kefka cheered him and praised his words.

Everybody quickly spread out and began preparations, leaving Cloud alone. The strange visitor was startled. He barely had his wits about him and still unable to talk coherently. Those that had been guarding Edgar brought the king over and picked up their new prisoner. They walked towards the mountains with their captives. The two would be in their new cells shortly. Cloud tried to struggle, even explain the situation to the group of jailers holding him and the other guy down, but he was punched in the face once more and told to save his energy for the following day.
The damage was done already, and Cloud's punishment had been carried out. In the next 24 hours he would be fighting to save his life.


--------

Fuckkk, I can't believe it's been like two years since I put out a chapter. Well I actually got into this chapter towards the end. I switch some stuff around, worked in the pacing (hope it flows better), got rid of some crap writing, but I actually think I added more to this chapter. SOrry about that. It's a little long, but take your time reading it. Cause who knows when the next chapter is going to come out. I'd be lying if I said next month cause I never know when I feel like writing.
Last edited by Xanien on Fri Jan 27, 2006 11:20 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Trigo » Fri Jan 27, 2006 10:41 am

geart works as always.
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Post by Xanien » Fri Jan 27, 2006 11:19 am

Haha, you said Geart ;)
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Post by Trigo » Fri Jan 27, 2006 2:56 pm

opps my spelling does fail me sometimes :|
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Post by Xanien » Sat Jan 28, 2006 12:42 am

Well Chewi DID put Spellchecker somewhere XD XD XD (j/k)
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Post by Xanien » Fri Feb 10, 2006 4:48 am

Chapter 15: Broken Memories


Miles from Figaro Castle


The Falcon had flown at half speed the entire night and finally its destination was in sight. On the horizon, the multiple towers of Figaro Castle appeared as a small mountain range. Dust churned about underneath the low flying airship as it struggled to make it to the port just outside the castle. The area around the castle itself was very delicate, needing soft sand below its foundations in case it had to submerge in an emergency (the ability to transport itself and embed itself in the earth was one of the contributing factors in winning the last war). So finding a suitable spot to a massive ship was mind-bogglingly precarious. But the pilot of this ship was the best in the world . . .

"We’re finally here," Setzer told Mik, breathing a sigh of relief.

"It’s about time," Mik yawned as he stood up and stretched out his arms and legs. The tension from the previous day’s events had subsided and the Falcon’s crew was remarkably subdued, "I’ll go tell Shadow."

Setzer gave him a slight nod, holding the wheel steady as Edgar’s bodyguard started went down below. The stairs leading down into the main compartment were splintered and sticking up dangerously everywhere. The lights were out and finding a ninja dressed in black, that doesn’t WANT to be found would be nearly impossible. Mik walked to the wooden railing that overlooked a lower level of the lobby and searched for any signs of Shadow, but he was nowhere in immediate sight, "Shadow?" Tracing his hand along the railing, Mik walked down a shorter flight of stairs to the lower part of the lobby and tripped on a damaged timber, falling onto his stomach, "damn it," he huffed to himself, rubbing his limbs and face as they suddenly grew warm from slamming against the ground.

When he pushed himself up again to resume his search, Shadow was standing right in front of him. They stood there for a moment and said nothing to each other, Shadow’s eyes intense and painful as he looked into Mik’s. A cloud passed out from in front of the sun and both of them were illuminated in the many colors of the fading sun through the holes in the hull of the airship. A blue makeshift bandage covered Shadow’s midsection, turning a rusty burgundy in color at places where the blood soaked through and dried. Mik wanted to extend his thanks to Shadow for saving his life, but as he looked at him, the ninja’s eyes sent him a message of distrust. Instead, he only relayed the message, "We’re at Figaro."


Figaro Castle


The intense warrior walked stealthily through the castle, holding his breath and neither his feet nor body making any noticeable sound. made his way by the daunting obelisks inside the main hall. He was careful to walk in the shadows of the daunting obelisks of the grand hall so he wouldn’t draw any attention to his location and be able to defeat his enemy. Neither had any weapons to speak of besides their own two fists, so it was critical to get as close to the other as possible without being seen in order to land the finishing blow. The defender of the castle was sure now that the other person was close . . . little things like the disruption of a breeze from outside or the rise of temperature from within a room was easy to pick up on from a seasoned fighter’s experience. He had trained himself to detect these things over countless battles. However, if he knew about this, then certainly the other knew as well . . .

Just as the thought of his foe crossed his mind, the enemy showed himself, smack dab in the center of the cavernous room. There was an air of mystery around this seemingly unafraid challenger. He showed no defensive or aggressive posture, and the way he stood seemed as though he was taunting his pursuer to attack. Infuriated at the confidence the enemy had, the warrior jumped into action and began his attack.

With incredible quickness he threw a barrage of punches at his enemy, his fists slicing through the air with amazing speed and accuracy. It would seem that every punch connected but the defender was so nimble that he was able to dodge each one, leaning backwards and to the side as though his body was naturally reacting on it’s own to the attack. Hitting only air, the aggressor grew angrier and put more power into his moves, making his technique sloppy. The enemy took advantage of his weakness and countered with the same moves that had been used on him. Now on the defensive, the first warrior barely managed to duck away from the moves being used on him. Was his enemy really using the same style of attack against him? If so he would know which attack was coming next and prepare for the opening.

His master had taught him that knowing your own weaknesses is the key to true power. Now more than ever the sagely advice was true. Duck . . . slide . . . block . . . . THERE!

Phwap!

His strong right fist connected with a dull, satisfying slap of bone against bone. The pain was minimal to his tough hand, but he was sure that the other guy’s chin was feeling it. While he relished landing the first blow he left himself open for the exact same attack from his foe.

"Shit!"

The enemy’s fist hammered down on his lower jaw with the same intensity that his had and it sent them both stumbling backwards. Dazed, they both mirrored each other and tried to shake off the previous attack, rubbing their jaws before dashing back into the fight. The same complicated dance continued on for a seemingly eternal loop. If the attacker landed a punch to the chest, ribs, or to the stomach . . . the other person did exactly the same to him, matching both the technique and energy of his every move.

But it was all an illusion. The defending warrior was starting to see through his unwavering foe. This was a match of speed, but not of power. At first it had felt as though the other person was delivering just as nasty of a blow as he was but each successive counter attack had been lacking any stopping power. They both moved in near perfect symmetry with each other, but the outcome of the battle wouldn’t be a stalemate. He had the upper hand in power and endurance. Now it was just a matter of catching his opponent off guard. Jumping into the air he straightened his body out and connected with a double punch to his foe’s chest. The force of the attack sent the other person flying backwards but just as soon as he had reached the ground he hard righted himself and was sprinting towards him for the same counterattack. Sure enough, as soon as he was in striking range he jumped up into the air and twisted his body while stretching his fists out.

Closing his eyes the defender of Figaro Castle clasped his hands together and chanted words to himself, recalling a lost language that had been passed down from his warrior monk master to himself years ago. In an instant he summoned all the latent ki floating around his body and focused it into his aura. "This is it!" he screamed as he pulled all the ki into his body. A sphere of sandy blue energy focused itself into his palms before turning light blue in color, almost white.

The enemy continued to fly forward, oblivious to the coming attack as the king of fighters forced the ki from his body in a beam of hot light. He closed his eyes and let it all pour out, feeling it connect with its target, "You’re too slow!" he confidently yelled as he opened his eyes, "WHAT?!?!" His foe had matched the beam with his own and they both poured everything they had into overpowering the other’s deadly blitz. The attacks sent sparks flying in all directions before finally equaling each other out with a thunderous boom that shook sand from between the castle stones in the ceiling. Both of the fighters were thrown backwards and slammed against a pillar.

The first person picked himself up and launched a deadly volley of these bolts of his aura from different points in the room, ripping apart pieces of the stone pillars that supported the ceiling as he tried to get the upper hand on his foe. He intensified each attack but each time the beams were negated just as the first beam was. Bricks became displaced and began to fall from the ceiling and sand stirred up around the both of them as they now stared at each other from opposite sides of the room, their bodies exhausted and chests heaving.

What could he do? What where his options now and how could he beat his enemy? Many questions raced through the defender’s mind as his muscles began aching. Sweat had collected in a V across his pecs, which stretched out his blue tank top and dripped to the ground below. His veins were jutting out of the cannon-like, bulging arms from the intensity of the last attack. The other warrior merely looked in his direction through a disguise of five sets of colorful tribal robes as if to relish in his disappointment. His enemy showed no sign of wear or a drop of sweat through the clothes they wore.

And then suddenly, just like that the king of Figaro loosened up and cracked his neck, "It’s been a good workout," the master of the Blitz commented to his sparring partner as he stretched out his arms and took a few deep breaths, "But it’s time I finished this," Sabin knew that the mimic could only copy what it could see, so he used the only move that was fast enough to elude Gogo’s supreme sense of observation was . . . Bum Rush.

Signaling the beginning of this awesome blitz attack, Sabin lunged forward and sprinted around his challenger, building up speed until he appeared only as a continuous shadow around his target. Gogo stumbled backwards slightly, getting a swift punch to his lower back that kept him in place. Sabin continued to charge up his remaining energy until his aura to glow silver pink. The mimic did its best to keep up with him but couldn’t. In a flash the king stopped and jumped forward with legs apart and arms bent at the elbow. He pulled it all together until the excess energy shot upwards above his head and then he started to attack. At half the distance to Gogo, Sabin’s aura flashed from silver to golden yellow, like that of his short, spiked hair. Then he disappeared . . . he couldn’t teleport, but he was moving so fast it appeared as though he could.

He appeared again in front of his foe for a spilt second and Gogo tried to strike out at him but the fighter had disappeared again before he had connected. His last and only chance of survival was trying to escape. Gogo took a step forward and was met with a crushing blow to his sternum, "Nope, don’t think I’ll let you off that easily" Sabin said to the silent mimic. He reeled back to his initial position and clutched his chest with his left hand. The seemingly unpenetrateable wall of Sabin’s appeared all around and trapped Gogo. The mime thought it would be slick and try to trick Sabin with its next move but was dead wrong in assuming that it could be done. The mime quickly took a step forwards and then backpedaled as fast as possible backwards . . . and that’s when the pain set in . . . the attack had started.

Gogo could feel the blast of air as Sabin missed with his first attack but when the mime stepped backwards, Sabin struck him with a bone-jarring blow to the spine. As Gogo collapsed to its knees from the pain, it was struck again on the cheek, tilting Gogo’s head downwards. Sabin followed up with a ferocious uppercut after that which sent his friend sailing backwards four feet in the air. It felt like slow motion to the master of illusions when he began to descend back to the ground. All of the mimic’s energy was expended and it was left open to any attack. Hopefully its body would hit the ground because after today, it was probably going to hurt the least. But alas, it wouldn’t be. Painfully jerking its head upwards, Gogo saw Sabin reappear then disappear again. When he showed himself again he was above the mime with both hands clamped together, readying for the finishing Hammer Blow technique to send his opponent into the ground.

Sabin’s legs bent behind his body and his chest bulged outwards as he raised both fists into a position behind his head. With unforgiving ferocity he snapped each body part back into their original position and connected with his attack. Gogo was hit hard in the torso and hit the ground with such an impact that the stones underneath him crumbled and flew upwards . . . Every bone in its body was broken, every muscle ruptured . . . Gogo could only do one thing. He lifted his right arm and hit it against the floor, tapping out.

"Medic!" Sabin yelled. In seconds, groups of doctors and nurses rushed in with various potions, already in the position to administer them, "You did good today Gogo. Thanks for staying in there. Same time next week?" Gogo nodded as multiple X-potions were poured over his wounds to bring him back from near death. It was almost comical to see him glow green from the healing items as the nurses took him away on a medical bed.

A random guard rushed into the training room with a distraught look on his face as the king began to walk back to the throne room, "Sabin, come quick! The Falcon’s here and it doesn’t look to good!"

"What?! Which side of the castle?" Sabin asked the messenger.

"Windward side, the northwest!" he answered, pointing eagerly.

"Please follow me, we might need your help!" Sabin said as he grabbed two doctors that had been helping Gogo.


Airship Port, Left Tower of Figaro Castle



The Falcon had literally limped into port, barely able to stay afloat. As soon as the main engines had been cut it crashed to the ground below, "Look out!" Setzer screamed to the ground crew below. Littered with small holes and poor patch jobs, the Falcon had lost the ability to stay afloat. Half of the engines were completely destroyed and they were lucky that the gas inside the blimp wasn't volatile enough to ignite.

Sabin was just in time and watched as the propellers shut off and dug into the soft sand near the castle. The dust settled, and the remaining power died down before the crew members began to disembark off the ship. The first of the survivors was a mechanic lending his shoulder to an injured friend. They were soon afterward followed a by an engineer and a co-pilot climbing down a rope ladder from the upper decks. A few more maintenance workers appeared from inside the hull of the ship, each with a unique injury to their bodies it seemed. They were met by the doctors and sentries of Figaro Royalty and were led into the safety of the castle. Sabin was anxiously watching for his friends, hoping that everyone was okay.

Shadow was the first to show. He leapt from the ship’s top rail, which was at least fifteen off the ground, and fell to the sand below. Shadow lost his footing as he shifted his weight to his legs and crashed face first into the ground, a very unusual occurrence from a man of his strength.

"Shadow! You alright man?" Sabin was shocked to see the elite ninja weakened and reeling silently in pain.

"Yeah . . . fine," Shadow responded, a little shaken up from his misjudgment and still grimacing from the pain. As he pushed himself back up, sand filtered out from inside his mask and slid off his black ninja gear to the desert below. He squinted as he regained his proper balance, indicating the pain he felt underneath his smooth guise. Out of reflex he held onto his side, trying to support it, "I need to get this treated quick before it gets infected," Shadow took some steps in the direction of Sabin and tumbled to his knees again. The king quickly motioned to some waiting nurses who they ran over to help Shadow to a room for treatment. He put an arm around each of their shoulders for support and as they walked by with Shadow, the ninja extended his arm and patted Sabin on the shoulder," In case I don’t see you again today . . . thanks," he told him.

Gratitude . . . it was something that couldn’t be earned that easily from somebody like Shadow. He hadn’t learned to express himself until very late in life. Nobody had done anything nice for him when he was little and without parents. He was always looked down upon, always was on the run, escaping from his latest victim. As a teen, Shadow and his friend Baram were an invincible team. They were master thieves that stole everything and anything they wanted from anybody. The both grew up thinking that you could get whatever you wanted just by taking it. To them, there were no limits. Nothing was given to you cause things of importance weren’t just given away.

That all changed one fateful day, more than a decade ago . . .


"They got me, I can’t go on anymore Clyde!" Baram shouted, gripping his wound to stop the bleeding.

"No! Get up! If we can make it to the next town we’ll be alright," Shadow told his friend, trying to lift him up. Baram screamed in agony and Clyde was forced to put him down. It had been just a regular heist, but something had gone horribly wrong. Somebody had been alerted to the planned robbery and had set a trap for them. Clyde managed to escape with only minor cuts and bruises, but Baram was slashed in the leg, severing his main tendon.

"Don’t you hear the voices? They’re coming for us!" Baram pleaded with his partner . . . his best friend, "Save yourself . . . I’m gone anyways." Clyde tried to carry him again but Baram yelled out. " I’m over here you son’s of bitches! Come and get me!" Clyde jumped back, shocked, "Get going . . . I’ll keep them off your trail."

Clyde took a couple steps back and looked at his friend one last time, then, he ran.


Baram had given Shadow his freedom . . . and a new life. In his second life as Shadow, Clyde had helped to save the world, but he still had that problem with gratitude. Clyde never asked his only friend to lay down his life for him and because of that he never said "thanks". After defeating Kefka, Shadow told himself that he’d stop running. Saying thanks to Sabin was a small step in the right direction. Maybe one of these days he would confront his fears and lead a normal life . . . but until then, he must deal with his inner demons if and when they surface.

Sabin was too busy helping Shadow to notice Mik and Setzer departing the Falcon and coming his way. He turned around to check out the ship and Setzer began talking with him. Mik had his head down and back turned to the heir to the throne of Figaro.

"Sabin, your-" Setzer was cut off.

"Where’s my brother?" Sabin shot at Setzer, a bit worried.

As he made his reply, Setzer turned his slightly to the right, letting the wind blow his shoulder length white hair get tangled in the wind, "That’s what I was trying to say . . . Sabin," Setzer’s expression suddenly became evidently grim," he didn’t make it. The cult at Kefka’s Tower captured him. Our mission failed . . ."

"What!!" Sabin screamed, fear and anger mixing in his voice. His normally relaxed frame now tensed up from the anticipation of what happened, "Tell me EVERYTHING that happened!"

At this point Mik joined in, "It was my fault! Please forgive me!," Mik shouted, wanting to sound as sincerely as possible as he got down on one knee before the new king, "I’ve let you and the Returners down . . . I’m a failure. I should have gone last . . ."

Sabin reflected on the events that were unfolding before he mad his next comment, "Is he still alive?"

"I don’t know," Mik replied, lowering his head again.

"If there’s still a chance then we’re going to go back for him," Sabin announced quickly," If there is any chance of saving him, we’ll have to orchestrate it fast," The others nodded their heads in agreement, " Setzer, I want you to call together an emergency meeting of the delegates for the Returners. Mik, I want you to check on Shadow then do the same. In the mean time, I’ll have the technicians here work around the clock to fix the Falcon. We’re going to need it."

They dispersed and went their separate ways. Mik ran as fast as he could to the balcony that held the Pigeon Express and sent a letter thinking nobody would notice. Then he left to go check on Shadow. Little known to him, Gogo had been watching from his hospital bed.


-----------------

Okay, I notice that for some reason the formatting is all screwy with this and previous chapters. Don't know why it's doing it now. Perhaps Chewi changed something? Anyways, if it doesn't get fixed soon I'll try to go through everything and correct it. Hope you don't have any problems on your side, but mine is fucked up for some reason . . .
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Xanien
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Post by Xanien » Fri Feb 17, 2006 5:53 am

Chapter 16: Thoughts of Freedom


Baram Arrowny had discovered a new level of boredom during his trek back to Doma. Everyone had woken up early in the morning to catch some wild chocobos for the first part of the trip. In the meantime, he was left to pack up the camp and get everything ready for departure. Baram couldn’t have chosen a more menial task had he picked it himself. He had heard many stories about Cyan’s friends and their many adventures . . .
but once the initial excitement had rubbed off, Baram realized that they were just like the Doman king . . . laid back and boring. He knew that there had to be something exciting about them, but he would need much patience to find it. The problem was, the wait was killing him. Baram, like any other teenager, thrived in environments that harbored adventure. It was one of the reasons he moved from his hometown of Thamasa to Doma. Day after day Baram would visit the grave of brave General Leo and re-enact the stories he had heard about this great man in his head. The wreckless youth wanted those days of turmoil to return to appease his thirst for excitement.

Being the cousin of Relm and the Grand Nephew of Strago just wasn’t going to cut it. Baram needed the feeling of something more real. Besides, there was nothing left in the small town to hold him back. The elders actually encouraged him to go and find his own path. Relm and Strago had stayed a few months after peace returned in the town of Thamasa, but suddenly left without telling anyone, leaving Baram all by himself. His mother had died during the catastrophe and he never knew his father, just as Relm never knew her’s. The young Arrowny had nobody left, so he moved away and traveled to Doma. But the story doesn’t end there . . .

Some of the older women of the town claimed they knew the fathers of both children, but their stories usually bordered on fantasy and rumor. One such rumor was that an injured man stumbled into the town over a decade ago. He was taken in by Relm’s mother and nursed back to health, and during that time they supposedly fell in love. However, when the man found out that she was pregnant, he left and never returned. Another man came looking for him a couple weeks afterwards, also recovering from many wounds. This mysterious man stayed for a while, making himself at home in Thamasa as he waited in hope that the other man would return. The man thought to be Relm’s father never showed.

All this while, the second man lived out a quiet life and took a liking to the daughter of one of the Elder’s. Her last name was also Arrowny, but a distant relative of Relm’s . . . it was Baram’s mother. They courted for months before eventually announcing their marriage. She became pregnant as well around the time that Relm was born. One of the more senile women of Thamasa said that Baram was supposedly named after this man . . . Baram would never know his father though. Two months before the wedding was to take place, the man left on a short expedition to the mainland and never returned. Baram wanted the stories to be true so badly, and they were almost believable, but many of the dates were mismatched from story to story.

Baram was sitting down to take a quick catnap when Celes, Mog, Cyan and Locke returned from their hunt. They had caught two average-looking chocobos and had already saddled them up. Everybody had one except for Mog, but Baram had heard him say that he’d be content on sharing one with Celes if that was okay with everybody. After the campfire was put out and gear attached to the golden birds of burden, the group was off.

They followed the mountains until it split into two different mountain ranges, and from there they took the northeast route to Duncan’s house, a hermit that many people didn’t know of. The young squire was later told by Locke that Sabin had trained under this person who was actually a karate master and taught the legendary hero the art of the Blitz over a decade of training. When they finally arrived there, it was late afternoon and the sun was already beginning to set. The orange light filtered through the windows and coated the rustic furnishings in its glow.

The old man was nowhere to be seen, so instead of waiting for his return Cyan wrote Duncan a note and placed it on the old man’s simple wooden bed. The boy thought it was odd to go out of their way to see this man, but when the flock of chocobos reached the coastline, he put two and two together and realized the importance of the visit. There was a small wooden dock extending twenty feet into the ocean with a large, sturdy boat tied up to the end of the pier. It was plain and weather worn, with nothing but a rudder and a small sail. Sure it would float with all them on it, but how would they get it to move? That sail was nowhere big enough to pull their combined weight . . .

Cyan walked out over the dark blue water with his bird and tied a rope from the chocobo’s chest to the front side of the timber raft. He pulled it over the water to the shore and motioned for Baram to do the same with his chocobo.

"Think we’ll make it before dark?" Locke asked as he dismounted his bird and looked at the early evening sun, tying his bird to the front of the raft as well.

"My friends here might be tired by the time we get to Doma, but it’s doable," Cyan joked, patting his chocobo’s head lightly.

Baram finished his final knot and the others were soon to board the raft. Working together, Locke and Cyan used the oars to push away from the dock. As soon as they sat down, the king grabbed the reigns of the birds of burden and had them pulling them on their way. The boy gazed off into the sun as the reddish orange orb set on the horizon, casting millions of bright, sparkling images on the water. Lost in thought, he was shocked to learn how far they had traveled by the time the sun was gone from view. Perhaps a new adventure WAS beginning, and the young man just didn’t know it.


Neo Vector, Empire Detainment Center


These guards are amazingly strong,’ Cid noticed as two of them picked him up by the arms and legs and threw him into the prison cell. He skidded on the smooth marble floor a couple feet before hitting Shera, who had tumbled over the hard ground a few seconds before him.

"Ahh . . . you really shouldn’t have done that," Cid said as he quickly propped himself back up to his knees and sprinted towards the door, "You’re gonna PAY for that!" the doorway was so close but his captors slammed it in his face, painfully knocking him back as he ran into it, "Why don’t you try that again assholes!" Cid screamed into the solid iron door. The two guards laughed to themselves heartily at the prisoner’s misfortune. Sitting on the floor, he could hear their footsteps clank down the hallway and see the lights flicker off as they left the wing where the cell was located. Morning sunlight filtered in from a high, overreaching vent into their new home. The dull shine was their only source of light in the rusted out, dilapidated prison.

"Open up the door!" He yelled again, spit flying out of his agitated mouth.

"Honey, sit down," Shera said trying to calm him, "That’s not going to do us any good."

Cid looked over to Shera. Her glasses were cracked, hanging from the neck of her light green t-shirt and her hair was frizzled out. She had banged her elbow hard against the floor when she landed and was now carefully cradling it so she didn’t injure it any further. They had been interrogated forcibly the entire night, and their countless injuries were testament to that. The captain was used to the gruff and hostile treatment of enemies, but poor Shera seemed broken. Like a puppy being scolded for doing something wrong, she was a complete wreck, cowering in the corner of the room. He gave up his fight and went over to her, trying to comfort her anyway he could.

"This isn’t right," Cid stated, "We somehow survived that black hole . . . then crash landed on this strange world . . . and after all that we were imprisoned in this rotten smelling whole!"

"Cid, it’s okay," Shera comforted him as she pulled his head down to her shoulder. Cid started up again as she ran her fingers through his goggle-less hair.

"They even took my lighter! They took everything from us and left me with only a pack of cigarettes . . ." Cid revealed, "What kind of sick bastards are you?" He yelled back to the wall.

"I could tell ya if you wanted to listen. I’ve had many dealings with their kind in the past. More than I want to remember," a raspy voice came from the darkest corner of the cell. The person made his way through the shadows and appeared slowly from the lack of light in the room. He looked to be in his eighties. The hair on his withered crown was white and balding. The old man was haggard looking, unkempt, smelly, and looked like he would fall over at any moment without the aid of a cane. But something about him gave Shera and Cid a feeling that he was sincere. The decrepit man had sort of a grandpa feel to him, like he was wise and honest, "Name’s Strago," he said as while extending his hand in friendship. Cid gripped the old man’s hand lightly but was surprised at the old codger’s strength, "I’ve been here for a few days now," He continued, wiping away some leftover crumbs form his last meal off his black tank top, "And I could have avoided it too if it wasn’t for a stupid mistake!"

"What happened?" Shera asked him politely, humoring the old man.

"Well," he started, "It happened about a week ago . . ."


Empire Intelligence Agency


"Relm get back here!" Strago scolded his granddaughter as silently as he could. She respected his order and came back to his side, "Do you want to get us caught?" Just then, a guard on patrol of the top floor walked by. Strago dragged his granddaughter into a dark room and they laid perfectly still until he was gone.

"Old man, you are too slow!" Relm commented, " You almost got us caught!"

"ME!?!" Strago snapped back. He sighed then reminded the aspiring artist why they were at the building in the first place, "We’ve been intercepting their Pigeon Express letters for the Returners for over four months now. We can’t get caught now! I think we are about to uncover the Empire’s field agents, and if we do, it would keep our precious secrets from falling into these bad men’s hands!"

"I’m 12 gramps, you don’t have to talk to me like I’m five," Relm defended herself from his last statement. She peaked out a crack in the door and grabbed his hand, "Coast is clear! Let’s go!" They ran as fast as they could to the farthest doorway on the other side of the building. Once there, they opened it up and found themselves on the roof.

Relm pointed to the adjacent side of the building where the Pigeon Express letter depot was located and Strago nodded. Looking into the blue sky of a beautiful afternoon, Strago noticed the white bird approaching from the distance. He took out a bird whistle and imitated the mating call of their avian friend. It sounded just like it was supposed to but the bird didn’t change course. It was getting dangerously close to the depot and this caused Strago to get worried. So he blew it again, this time, harder. The pigeon finally changed course and flew over to them, landing on Relm’s arm. It wasn’t his call that brought the pigeon, but the enticing bread crumbs that Relm had brought with her. It eagerly ate the small mound of nourishment she gave it while Strago took the note that was tied to its claw. He opened it up and read it . . .


"GENERAL G. REPORTING FROM KEFKA’S TOWER-

I DON’T KNOW WHY THESE CULTISTS CALL THIS TOWER BY THAT NAME, THE ORIGINAL TOWER WAS DESTROYED BY THAT HUGE MECHANICAL MONSTER SOON AFTER KEFKA WAS BEATEN BY A GROUP OF RETURNERS . . . MAYBE BY NAMING IT AFTER THEIR GOD THEY THOUGHT IT WOULD HONOR HIM . . .

I MUST KEEP THIS SHORT THOUGH, FOR MY WIFE WILL BE GIVING BIRTH SOON AND I CAN’T MISS IT. THIS WILL BE MY FINAL MESSAGE TO COMMAND FROM THIS POST AND THEN I WILL BE RETURNING HOME. IT’S BEEN MANY YEARS. I HOPE MY SERVICE HERE IS LOOKED UPON POSITIVELY.

MY MEN AND I HAVE COLLECTED MORE THAN ENOUGH TACTICAL DATA ABOUT THE SURROUNDING AREA AND THE CULT. WE SHALL HAVE IT TO YOU IN LESS THAN TWO WEEKS. I MUST RUN NOW AND FINISH ERRANDS FOR THE TOWER OR I MIGHT SEEM SUSPICIOUS.

REGARDS,
G.G."


Strago rolled it back up and put it back on the bird’s leg. Relm put away the remaining crumbs and the bird flew away to its normal destination.

"What does it mean?" Relm asked.

"It seems as though the empire is planning for war again . . ." he replied, "We need to send a message to the others right away. Let’s get going."

Relm shook her hands free of any crumbs and wiped them on her pants. They ran back to the door and entered back into the building. Relm hadn’t been observant enough while she was outside and had forgotten to tie back up the bag of crumbs. As they ran through the hallway, the bag tipped over and began to spill its content everywhere. She had no time to notice it ever happening because he was back. The same guard had circled back to this part of the building and was continuing his patrol. As he finished his rounds, another guard with a dog came on duty. Waving goodbye the first patrolman took off, and the dog immediately began sniffing the crumbs.

Strago and Relm did the same thing they had done before and hid in the darkened room. The patrol was about to walk down the other hallway, away from the one that they had taken when the mutt pulled him the other way. "What is it boy?" he said as he felt a crunch beneath his boots. Looking down, he noticed a long line of bread crumbs leading down the hallway. The lighting of the hallways wasn’t that bright, but the white and brown crumbs stood out against the obsidian colored floor. The guard withdrew his cutlass from its sheath and snuck down the hallway, allowing the canine to lead the way. When the crumbs lead under a door, he stopped dead in his tracks. He could almost laugh, but instead, he switched the light on to the room from the outside.

"Garm!" he screamed as he swung open the door and found the two intruders waiting to fight. Moments after yelling, the Doberman Pincer came to the guard’s aid at the doorway. It snarled ferociously, clear drool dripping from its already bared fangs while it stared at Relm and Strago. They moved towards the door and the dog lunged towards them, curling its lip and snarling as it waited for a signal to attack its enemy.

"We can take them," Strago said, brandishing a hardwood rod from a pack that he wore under his red cape.

"Give me some time and I’ll set up a decoy to get us out of this!"

The guard smiled and pointed to a sign above the inside of the room. When he did, the dog barked uncontrollably. It felt like it was laughing at them too. Reluctantly Strago raised his head and read the sign, it said: "Keep quite on patrol around the sleeping quarters".

Relm turned around to find twenty very grumpy men wearing only boxers with only a sword and gun surrounding them. They had heard everything from the adjoining room.

"Shit!" Relm grumbled as she threw down her paintbrush.



Back in Prison Cell


"And that’s how we got caught," Strago finished, shaking his head, " It was so careless . . ."

"So where is your granddaughter now?" Shera asked.

"Down the hall in one of these cells, I hope she is alright." Strago whimpered, " I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her."

"Who are these ‘Returners’ you speak of?" Cid blurted out, unaware or seemingly not caring about the old man’s loss.

"We’re a resistance group consisting mostly of the free nations and cities of this world. Then there is the Cult of Kefka, and of course, you. Whose side are YOU on?"

"Excuse me, us?" Shera butted in.

"You’re from the Empire, are you not?" Strago assumed.

"No," Shera shot back, "We’re not. It might be a little hard to believe, but we aren’t from this planet."

Shera began to explain everything that had transpired in the last few weeks and how they ended up there. And while she was at it, she gave the old man background info about their own planet and history as well. Even now with the morning light inching its way inside the prison cell, Cid went over to rest on the solitary cot his captors had provided. His head still hurt from the beating and god only knows what these creeps were doing with his favorite cigarette lighter.


-----------------------


Meh, nothing exciting. Just setting up the events of a future chapter. In all likeliness I should have cut this entire chapter out, but then what would have happened to Cid and Shera? Gotta keep track of the characters, and give others reasons to do things. I probably could have done a little more to flesh out Relm and Strago, but to anybody that's read the first revision . . . well they aren't really going to be sticking around this fanfic till the end ;). Anyways, now that this is out of the way I hope I can move onto the more exciting chapters. This is the last boring one! I promise!
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Post by Trigo » Wed Feb 22, 2006 5:53 pm

Great work man. :)
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Xanien
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Post by Xanien » Fri Feb 24, 2006 12:34 am

Cool, thanks man. I'm gonna put out another chapter one of these days. I think it's slowed down a little bit though. Just gets more difficult as I have to totally rethink and redo the chapters to fix poor characterization and awful pacing/description. Some of these chapters are really weak, but they only get better from this last chapter out. Thanks for reading.
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Post by Xanien » Fri Mar 10, 2006 7:38 am

Meh . . . I've only worked on the next chapter a little bit. I got the tough first part done, but doing the rest has caused me to lose a lot of steam. I dont' want to fuck up the characterization of a few characters like I did with the first draft, so I'm changing things around to make them seem more believable. This means that I have to scrap entire paragraphs and write new ones, and sometimes large chunks of story are lost. This is somewhat of a good thing because on a second reading it seemed really boring and slowed the story down. I'm trying to get this bad boy lean and mean, and fun to read. There is a possibility that I will work on it during Spring Break for the school, but for now it doesn't look like chapter 17 is gonna be out by the end of March. But you never know! Aura always gets the chapters first, so just keep your eyes peeled. There has to be more than one person reading this, cause there's 765 views! That's just amazing. Glad I'm still keeping some people's interest. Anyways, thanks for waiting :-P
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