For Love of Life...
Prologue
-By Lunauc
"You want to clone me?" The point of his hat tilted askew as his unseen head did beneath it, letting the bent end shift over as it hung. The little mage was the essence of unnerved confusion as he listened to the scholarly man's proposal.
"No, no, no, no. no…" Dr. Tot back peddled, waving his hands about as if to wipe the words right out of the air. His barely distinguishable shoulders rolled back as he reconsidered his statement, and tentatively retried, "You see, you were one of the prototypes that was used in creating the Black Mages. From you Kuja refined beings with less mental and emotional capacity in exchange for... better efficiency." Vivi nodded along, understanding that truth at least. The odd sage then continued on a tangent, "After studying Kuja's journals and experimenting with his machines, I think it may be possible to alter the process in a different way. It should create mages with less inherent magical power, but with your level of potential for humanity and individuality." Straightening up, the Doctor drew in a deep breath through his oversized nose, before deeming hopefully, "And if all goes well, they will have normal human life spans." There was a pensive pause as the little mage's glimmering yellow eyes peered up to the Doctor, considering the validity of such wondrous possibility.
"That's great, Vivi!" The pause did not last too long. The boy in the pointed hat turned to look at the excited girl beside him. Eiko had decided to make this little excursion with the good Doctor to deliver the good news to the Black Mage village. Dressed in a recreation of her old adventuring clothes, though of finer cottons and silk, this quest from Lindblum offered her a break from her typical attire of regal dresses and proper posture expected of the Regent's daughter. That along with the happy news they had to offer, it was no wonder she was smiling so brightly. Though looking at her seriously, the small boy wondered why her eyes weren't shining like they usually did when she was so happy. Truthfully, there had been little to be happy about lately. Yes, three months ago they had succeeded in stopping the sick aspirations of Kuja and putting down the malignant entity, Necron. However, their friend and leader, Zidane was lost in the catastrophe which followed. No one had had the heart yet to declare him dead, but for some the seeds of doubt were already sown. After the final battle, the group had drifted apart to follow their own affairs. They still kept in touch, but they were all busy, rebuilding their homes and settling into their new lives. Eiko was now adopted to the Regent Cid and Lady Hilda. She would be loved and adored and respected; a true Princess, never to be lonely again. Vivi was happy for her, though her letters claimed that royal life wasn't all it was cracked up to be. She desperately longed for the freedom and adventure of their questing days again. He just laughed it off. That's how she always was, always demanding something better He supposed that was one way to live to the fullest. Maybe he'd been wasting his own precious little time.
For the last few months he had been living here with the other Mages and the Genomes. It was certainly peaceful, and it was fun to try new things with them and to learn with them. They'd been getting pretty good at agriculture. After a few mistakes, they learned how to till the soil and fertilize. Zemzelett droppings and composted refuse proved quite effective. Studying books shipped to them from Alexandria and Lindblum, they learned trade skills, greatly for hobby. Many were trying to be creative and productive with their time. Odd art projects, radically designed new houses and tinkered items accumulated about the village as people made things to be remembered by. Several of the Genomes got just as drawn into the projects. Though they had even less personality than the mages, being with the short lived creations in their search for life did seem to get the attention of the supposedly soulless puppets. No. 11 and 55 had begun to expand their chocobo raising, after being gifted with eggs of thoroughbred Alexandrian birds. They had built on extensions to their small stable, expanding it for the future chocobos. Meanwhile, Bobby Corwen was growing into a cute little yearling. Already taller than Vivi, the bird had a habit of biting at the smallest mage's hat and had even managed to grab a hold and tug it off a few times. Even living in recluse, the Mages hardly ever revealed themselves. So to be chasing a squawking chocobo with his bare head showing in daylight was more than a little embarrassing. However, he could never be very angry at the animal just for being playful and curious. Heck, the hi-jinks of the yellow bird did wonders for loosening the air tight personalities of the villagers who had so recently been but heartless puppets. A happy, scampering little life form was just the motivation they wished to mimic. Chocobo's didn't live as long as humans either. They'd learned that. But if the bird could be so happy with about ten or twelve years, then the mages could be just a bit happier with their four or five. That was basically how they got by day to day. Focus on what they have and never discuss what they're missing.
A gladly musing voice called his attention to No. 288, "Imagine that… Mages who won't have to stop. It would be amazing to think that there would be mages around even after we're gone." He leaned forward on his staff as he daydreamed on the idea. He always carried the staff nowadays, and not just out of habit. Though he tried to hide it, he had been getting more and more tired lately. Everyone in the village noticed, but no one wished to dote on such grim matters. Particularly since so many of the elder mages were having the same problems. That is the ones who had not already stopped. Truly, all of their time was running out. "I wonder what they would be like."
Vivi imagined the possibility as well. It would give hope and happiness to the Black Mages in their dying days. Dying, he'd finally started to accept it as such. Stopping was just a less harsh way of putting it. He knew they were dying. Even his own body had been starting to feel week and unfamiliar at times. Dizzy spells were passing reminders and sometimes he would just black out for a moment or two, staring thoughtlessly into space until someone came about to speak with him, and remind him that he was alive. He was already years older than his brethren, and knew that his time would be up soon as well. A new generation of Black Mages, those born out of hope and peace and dreams of a better tomorrow, it sounded wonderful. But…
"Yes, it is quite possible." Mikoto agreed, from her seat nearby as she made four cups of herbal tea.
"Though there is little mist available, it can be taken from caverns and valleys where some is still trapped. However, in a world void of the mist, you will have the same problem with the Mages, unless…"
"We design them to be more like Genomes." Dr. Tot finished for the blond girl, who only nodded in confirmation. Grinning at his correct hypothesis, the scholar went on to explain, "I already understand that the Mages rely on the mist as a sort of fuel to keep them running. While a Mage will only have a natural life span of about two to four years, living in the mist, they could conceivable last as long as twenty years. Not to mention the strain of their magic. The dark powers they wield inevitably drain the soul, hence why so few red mages are willing to delve into the blacker arts." His lecturing manner would bore most people, including the lively Eiko, who kicked her feet about as she idly listened to his mumblings. The Mages and the Genome however, patiently listened with deep interest, even if they already understood as much. "Now, they use mist as some what of an alternative fuel to supplement the power of their magic. This decreases the strain of their inherent magic, even though the strain will still prove lethal in the end. In these days, with the mist gone you all are bearing the full burden of the magic you were infused with. Even when you don't actively use spells, you are designed to be ever ready for battle. So, your bodies are constantly readying themselves to cast spells. And of course, the more magic you use, the faster you will… well…"
"Die…" Vivi morbidly offered the word, as if it were the final nail in his own coffin. The room was silent with awkwardness for a moment. No. 288 and Eiko looked worriedly to the boy, while the others remained still and tactful. Cautiously the younger girl snaked an arm up round his shoulder. A heavy sigh from the boy though made her pull it back quick before he was touched or noticed the gesture. Yet yanking her arm back made her chair rock a bit beneath her, and Vivi looked anyway, thinking she'd stumbled in her seat. She offered him a nervous little smile of encouragement, to which he cocked his head curiously.
"Right…" Doctor seemed to relocate his voice to explain, "Taking this into consideration, the new Geno-Mages, if you will, would have this Mist transition capability removed. While, of course, black magic will inevitably be a part of their beings, they will need training and focus to draw it out, much more like a human mage. With all of your help and cooperation, I'm confident that we can make this theory into a reality." Looking about the gathered with anxious eyes, the eager scholar restrained his fervor to ask in an easy tone, "So, what do you all think?"
No one spoke right off, each taking their time to mewl over the facts and opinions offered so far. Vivi was troubled with questions. As optimistic as it all sounded, some things continued to gnaw at him. 'Why make more Mages? Even if they live longer, what will they do? Who will raise them? Us? I had Grandpa Quan to watch over me. He may not have been the most qualified parent, but I still don't think I'm up to the job.' Doubts roiled in his little head, though, nervous of disturbing everyone else's good attitude, he hesitated to speak.
"It's just…" Thankfully, the wise No. 288 shared the boy's worries. "Who will raise them?" Everyone's attention was on him as he pointed out, "We only have years left, if that. Children take much longer to grow and educate." His hat sagged forward woefully, as he accepted aloud, "Most of us are still little more than children ourselves. Are bodies may be full grown, but in the ways of the world we know very little. Not all of us have even learned to read and write, and it is not as if we have some grand culture or tradition which we wish to pass on or preserve." This rung true, as a couple of nods and frowns were shared about the room. Still, he continued, "What of after we are gone? Who will watch over these orphaned children?" Raising his shadowed masked face, he asked rhetorically, "Will you Doctor?" Then glancing to the young Regent's Daughter, "Will the people of Lindblum?" Neither could answer, and by now their smiling faces had drooped significantly.
Aside, Mikoto offered sullenly, "The Genomes would accept the task, though they are hardly up to it. Supposedly children require a great deal of care and affection." She handed out cups of tea to Doctor Tot, No. 288 and Vivi. Eiko couldn't stand the stuff. "While the others are learning reasoning and free will, I'm afraid true emotion has not yet dawned upon them. Even I am rather blank in that sense still." The cup rose to her lips with almost mechanized precision so she could draw a slight, measured sip before lowering it back to her saucer.
Doctor Tot nodded along in understanding. The rhythmic bobbing of his huge nose would have seemed humorous under less serious circumstances. A heavy breath bellowed from his gargantuan nostrils before he admitted dourly, "You are right in all you say. I suppose I did not think these matters through entirely. Please accept my apologies for troubling you all with such notions."
"No, Dr. Tot, it's a good thing that you try to help us so much." Vivi anxiously corrected him.
No. 288 agreed soundly, "Yes, we are very thankful. You came to us with the best intentions. It is just that we are afraid of making an injustice, such as so many feel our own creation was."
"Don't say that." Eiko huffed to the village leader, who looked back to her with a bit of confusion, along with everyone else. Blushing a bit from the attention, the stares didn't quiet her, "It wasn't an injustice." A couple of people looked about to retort, so she back peddled quickly, "I mean, yes, what Kuja was doing was wrong, but that's not your faults. Just because he made you to be weapons, doesn't mean that you don't have a right to be here. You guys are so nice and friendly and caring. Why shouldn't there be more of you?" She got no immediate response. Biting her lip, she pouted and hung her head at their lack of agreement. The girl seemed on the edge of tears as she bunched her fists in her lap. It was Vivi's turn to hesitantly raise his hand to her shoulder in comfort.
Once more, a child's shyness kept him from making instant contact as his arm lingered unnoticed behind her, still considering the actual touching. "JERKS!" Eiko suddenly flung her head back to cry out the childish complaint. The startling it gave Vivi had him tumbling off the side of his chair just to pull his arm back fast enough. The adults gave grins and muffled snickers at the failed intimacy and klutzy fall of the boy to the floor. Unaware, the purple-haired girl turned to the fallen Vivi with concern, "Sorry, Vivi, I didn't mean to scare you."
"I-it's okay." He stuttered as he climbed back up to is seat, flushed pink with embarrassment beneath his concealing wardrobe.
"But really, couldn't you try to be a little less nervous?" She followed up with a complete loss of worry, "Boys are supposed to be brave, you know?"
"Right, sorry." His head hung, suddenly repentant, though he wasn't sure why.
The humor of the situation at least lightened moods a tad, and when No. 288 spoke next, it was in a gentle voice. "Miss Eiko, thank you for your kind words. It makes me happy to know you feel so fondly of us. And I'm sure we all feel just as happy to know you." Her frown eased at his kindness, but he began to continue, "However, I ask you to keep in mind, that these new Mages, while they may live long full lives and be capable of joy and love and prosperity, they won't be… they wouldn't…"
"They wouldn't be us." Vivi found the words the leader couldn't quite reach. Timid, and unsurely spoken, the boy raised his head as the others looked to him. He glanced aside to No. 288, who only nodded to him in encouragement. Gulping down a bit of nerve the small Mage spoke, "I-I mean… they wouldn't really be … like us. Even if they're made similar and even look similar… they'd still be… different." Alright, he wasn't a verbal virtuoso, but he tried, "I wouldn't want them to be like us. The Mages were used and lied to and left to perish. People hate us for the things we were made to do." Tears formed unseen in his unnatural eyes, as he sadly reminisced, "Even after helping to save the world, I can't walk down streets in some towns with out people glaring at me, like I'm a monster." His head shook, as if trying to shake those memories away, and he stated surely, "I don't want them to go through that." Again the room was quiet in contemplation and a seasoning of pity. These truths were hard to swallow. But they had to be accepted. Vivi slumped in his chair, hat hung forward as he fought back a silent sob. Even if he was learning to accept things, that didn't mean he had to like them. He was just a child himself. Right now he should have his whole future ahead of him. He should be careless and enjoying these days, like everyone else his age. Instead he was counting down to his own miserable demise, and being glared at all the while, just because of what he was. This time the sob did come, and another.
Eiko gazed woefully to her whimpering friend. 'He's still a crybaby.' She groaned in her mind, but she really felt sorry for him, the tears now leaking down her cheeks stood testament to that. Slowly her arm rose for a second attempt to console the saddened Mage. Her arm hovered over his shoulders, as shy about touching as he had been. But she was offered a bit of help.
"Oops." The mild utterance was little more than a costume formality, as No. 288 let his weight on his staff shift and his hip bumped Eiko's side. She fell against Vivi, her arm hooking his neck, and her hand grabbing his knee for quick support. It didn't take long for them both to realize their intimate position. And both froze. Eiko was first to risk a glance up to Vivi's shrouded countenance. Timidly his head turned to land his round amber eyes back on her. He felt stiff under her arm, stock still with the unfamiliarity of physical contact. Truth be told, she wasn't very familiar with hugging anything other than a moogle in a long time. She was still getting use to the times when her new parents or Garnet would give her a hug or kiss on the cheek. Not to mention, everyone was watching them. However, seeing the wetness gathered in the boy's big yellow eyes, she forced her personal inhibitions to take a back seat.
'I swear, I'll kill anyone who dares to laugh.' Eiko drew quick breath, bit her lip and steeled her body, as if about to receive a punishing blow, just before she let it soften. Gently she rested her weight against the slightly larger Mage, softly holding his frame in comforting manner as she let her head dip down to rest along his shoulder. Thankfully her hair draped forward to hide her blushing cheeks. 'This is so embarrassing. He better feel better.' Her mind bickered while her heart pulsed nervously. Steadying her throat, she offered in promising reassurance, "Don't worry, Vivi. Everything will be okay, because you're not alone. You have lots of friends, and we're all going to do everything we can to help you. Okay, Vivi?" She held him with genuine care, but he wasn't responding. He still hadn't even relaxed his body. He was all rigid and unmoving like stone. Again she tried, "Vivi?" No answer. "Vivi?" As he remained quiet, she eventually pulled her head from his shoulder to chance a look to his face. His head hadn't moved, and he still stared off in that one direction. A bit worried now, she tried with some urgency in her voice, "Vivi?"
The others watch, perplexed as she, Doctor Tot, trying to ask, with some misgivings, "I-is he…?"
Swallowing her mouthful of tea and lowering her cup back to her saucer, Mikoto offered deliberately, "I believe he has fainted." The insinuation sent No. 288 and Doctor Tot raising their hands to their mouths to keep their laughter from escaping. Eiko, unaware of the implications and worried of the boy's health kept calling to him.
"Vivi?"
"Vivi?"
"Vivi?"
"Vivi?"
"Vivi?"
"Vivi?"
"Vivi?"
"Vivi?"
"Vivi?"
"VIVI?" a strong hand shook his shoulder, rousing him from darkness.
"Hu… huh?" His eyes rolled forward to reclaim vision beyond the brim of his hat and found the stars winking back at him. It was night time where ever he was.
"Vivi, are you alright?" The familiar voice called his head to tilt forward to meet his waker, and found flaming red hair and a pale, but strong face.
"Amarant?" The powerful hand settled its hold as the warrior's worry washed away. Vivi looked about at his surroundings, and quickly began to recall his place. He was in Treno on business. He and some of the other Mages had come by airship from Conde Patie, along with a few dwarves on a trade expedition. Since being reintroduced to the world beyond the Outer Continent, the dwarves were flourishing quite nicely. Their crafts and knick-knacks sold well here in the Mist Continent. Not to mention they were well received for their quaint tales of home and good humor. While Mages were not quite as well received, their crafts also fetched high prices. Not much of it was particularly great or inspiring, but many cunning collectors believed their value would skyrocket the moment the last Mage died off. The idea quite frankly, made Vivi's stomach churn. Yet, he had to admit, the income of their sales did help the village a great deal. No. 288 referred to it as a necessary evil. The boy would have to accept that too. He had been viewing one such morbid auction earlier, before wandering outside for some fresh air. Staring up at the stars was the last thing he remembered. 'I must have blanked again. I wonder how long it lasted this time.'
"Sorry if I startled you." An apology was odd coming from this man, but easily accepted by the confused boy, "I was just going to say hello, but you weren't answering. Are you feeling alright?"
"Uh.. yeah." Vivi tried to assuage his friend's worry with a simple explanation, "I guess I just kind of dozed off. I'm sorry to have troubled you." Amarant backed off, standing to his full height, towering over the seated boy. Stern eyes considered Vivi's weak frame. He knew better than to believe the boy was just sleeping, but he wouldn't bring it up.
"It's no trouble, kid. I was just passing by. You should be happy it was me and not some low life thief that found you first." The suggestion had the small Mage reaching quickly for his coat pocket, to thankfully find his coin purse in tact.
Smiling up to the large man, though the boy's mouth was a barely visible line in the shadows, Vivi offered gratefully, "Thanks, Amarant." The fighter gave little more than an acknowledging groan, which Vivi took to mean, "You're welcome." As the boy's mind began to resettle, he thought to ask, "So, whatcha doing in Treno?"
Amarant gave a disconcerted shrug as primary reply, as if he wasn't sure of it himself. But eventually he answered, "I've got a bodyguard job here in town."
"Oh, that sounds good. Is the person nice?"
"Nope." Amarant dryly replied, "He's just some rich creep."
"Oh."
"As long as he pays well, I really don't care what he's like though."
"Right." Vivi gave a habitual nod, though he couldn't really agree with the sentiment. He wondered if the mercenary had learned anything from the way the Black Mages were used. However, he wasn't about to preach to anyone, especially someone much older and more experienced. So he resolved to change the issue instead. "Is Lani still with you?"
"Eh?" The question seemed to surprise him.
Vivi slowly persisted, "Lani…? Your partner…? Are you still working together?"
The sigh that followed was long and exhaustive, one would think Amarant had just been asked to climb a sheer cliff face, rather than answer a simple question. Finally, with a slight nod, the mercenary replied, "Yeah, she's still working with me." Vivi grinned at the man's words. Lani was rather strange and aggressive, but at least he had company. "She's just lucky that our arrangement has been profitable so far, or I would have dumped her by now." As much as he denied it, Vivi was sure that no one liked to be alone. Still, he wouldn't bring it up. "What about you?" Vivi's head cocked aside a bit in question, "You just in town for the rummage sale?" Amarant asked as he thumbed toward the billboard announcing the Black Mage crafts auction.
"Oh, yes." Vivi stood up from the wall he rested against, stumbling a bit at first. Apparently his legs weren't entirely awake yet. At least that's what he told himself it was. Leaning on his staff, he rose up, still only waist high to the mercenary, to add pointedly, "We also have a meeting scheduled with Doctor Tot tonight. Since he knew we were going to be in town, he said he had something he wanted the Black Mages to see."
"That Old Blowhard…? What does he want?" Amarant retorted in innocuous mockery.
Vivi gave a shrug back, honestly answering, "I dunno. His letter said that it was too sensitive a subject to breech in any form other than live verbal conference. I'm pretty sure that means he wanted to talk."
It had been a couple of months now since the Doctor's proposal of producing new Black Mages. The subject was, to borrow a word from the scholar, breeched to the village after their meeting. It was a pretty hot topic among the community. Most agreed it was a bad idea, though a few still insisted they all keep the option in mind. Of course they had, but no one had yet brought it up publicly since. The Doctor maintained friendly correspondence, sending them letters asking how everyone was doing and keeping them up to date on what little pop culture the Doctor knew of the outside world. Thankfully, they got news from other sources to keep them better appraised on those details. On a more serious note though, Tot takes measure of the health and well-being of the remaining Mages. Every weakness and symptom of fatigue and deterioration is carefully written and sent to him weekly, so that he can monitor the progress, or more to the point, regress. There had been four deaths in the last two months, among them, No. 111. Poor Bobby Corwen really misses his lost keeper. The other eggs should be hatching soon though. Perhaps some fellow chocobos will cheer him up. Then again, no one need long for company in the village nowadays. Lately, awakened Black Mages from all over had been finding their way to the clandestine little village to live in peace with their brethren. They totaled at eighty seven at last count. Along with the Genomes the place was getting quite crowded. New homes were being built all over. At least their carpentry skills were improving. Some of the first few houses the Mages had built had fallen down in the first weeks of habitation. That wasn't all they had improved in either. Each had gotten better in their own hobbies, and Mage arts and crafts were starting to be less of an eyesore and more of a proud production. For instance, No. 301, a type C Mage who had arrived in the village in the days following the battle of Kuja, had arisen as quite the skilled painter. His works were expected to fetch some of the highest prices in the auction. Especially his landscape, "Endless Sky, Endless sand", which portrayed the great desert which he would look out upon in his conflicted days of following Kuja. Another painter, No. 73, favored oil paintings. They weren't as lifelike as 301's landscapes, but their portrayals of day to day life among the Black Mages were priceless. He had painted scenes of what caught his attention. "Planting the wheat Fields" ; Mages gathered out in the fields planting seed and shoveling out fertilizer, one careless scoop being tossed over a shoulder onto a friend's head. Vivi remembered that day and how No. 23's hat smelled like bird poop for weeks following. No. 23 was gone now, but the picture remained. It was still hung up in the inn. Some things are too valuable to sell. Vivi even had one up on his wall; No. 73's rendering of the smallest Mage chasing after Bobby Corwen for his hat, Vivi wearing a bucket over his head to cover him self. The experience had been embarrassing enough, but now everyone that came into his room got to relive it. But still, it was one of his prized possessions.
No. 12 was great at wood carvings. He'd made lots of different carvings of creatures he'd seen as he traveled during the war. His elaborate carving of Kuja's Silver Dragon alone had practically paid for the village's remodeling since the last auction. And his Soulcage piece was expected to draw a huge price in this one. Of course, not everything they made was auction worthy, but they still sold pretty well in these big cities as novelty items. No. 32's jewelry was made mostly from non-precious metals, like iron, brass and copper, and featured common gemstones, such as turquoise, peridot, amber, sunstone, or onyx. What really sold them was the promotion that they were heated and prepared by the magical fire of the Black Mages, and cooled by their blizzard spells. Many human Mages or simple fans of the arcane collected the cheap trinkets as if they were the world's finest jewelry. To each their own; so Blank once said on the subject, though Vivi didn't really know what he meant. Another big seller was Black Mage clothing. Several of the Mages had taken up tailoring, if only for basic maintenance of their baggy clothing. Yet a few, like No. 69, 125 and 303 had practiced to get quite adept at the trade. At first they were just recreating their own uniform clothing, but creativity began to spread among the Mages with the realization that they didn't have to look the same.
By their very nature, every Mage is a carbon copy to the others of their type. Though their minds and personalities have progressed differently, their bodies are all the same factory manufactured designs. Even between the A, B and C types there was little variation. So, the idea of creating clothing all their own and looking like the individuals they wished to be treated as was a major boon for their morale. Most have only varied their traditional looks with new colors and exotic patterns and fabrics, but a few Mages have been hording whole wardrobes of varying looks and styles. For the most part their clothing is very concealing and practical, after a few faux pas, like wearing fine silks or long robes while farming. Vivi hadn't gotten much into the trend. Even though he'd grown a few inches in the last half year, the clothes he had gotten to replace the old ones were just that, a replacement. The new green breeches he was wearing now were pretty much the same design as his old ones, just lacking white stripes. Come to think of it, he was starting to out grow his coat. Maybe it was about time for a new look, after all. Of course it wasn't their new fashions that sold in human cities anyway. The Black Mage uniforms sold best. Children liked to masquerade around in them. So did adults on special occasions. And some people just had an odd taste for fad clothing.
"When are you supposed to meet him?"
"Huh?" Pulled back from his internal reminiscing, the boy glanced back up to his large friend.
Peering down to the boy, Amarant expanded, "Dr. Tot… when are you supposed to meet him?"
"Oh…" Vivi had to take a second to think it over. Funny, he'd known it earlier. Then like a bolt of lightning, it struck him, "Oh yeah… eight o'clock."
"Uh huh…" The mercenary gave a brief nod then looked up to the clock tower over the auction house. "You've got three minutes."
"What?" Hastily taking a couple steps over, the boy gazed up, and sure enough the clock read 7:57. "Oh no. He lives down on the south end."
"Yeah. You should get going." The red-haired man dryly suggested.
"Right, thanks Amarant." As fast as his short little legs could carry him, Vivi took off running, turning to call back over his shoulder, "I hope I see you before we go-oh!" Tripping as he came to steps of the bridge, Vivi crashed down to the stone. Quickly though he called out to assure, "I'm okay." Amarant just shook his head at the display of his former comrade's clumsiness, while the boy got back to his feet.
"AAAAAHHH!" The woman's scream called the mercenary's attention back to the bridge, just in time to see a woman yank the raised hem of her skirt from Vivi's staff and back into place covering her legs.
Bowing frantically, the boy emphatically apologized, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! It got snagged when I was getting up, I didn't mean to!"
Amarant just groaned and turned away, citing plainly, "This kid's really gotta learn to be more careful." With that he sauntered on into the auction house. His client should be waiting.
About six minutes of running and another couple minutes of sincerely apologizing for bumping into people along the way, and Vivi finally came to a stop outside of Dr. Tot's tower. Three of his brethren were already waiting at the Doctor's doorstep for him, the host in question, standing on the stoop, speaking with them when he arrived. They all looked over to the boy, as he clamored to a halt, bent over and commenced gasping for breath. "Vivi, are you alright?"
"Yuh-" He began to speak, but choked for lack of air, and drew a breath before trying again, "Yes… ha ha … Just ah out of… hah … breath."
"We can see that." No. 123 stated stagnantly, and asked with more interest, "Why did you run all the way here though?" He was hardly dressed to run himself, decked out in a lavish orange satin over robe, with stripes of red and green velvet sewn in at the back and the trim, embroidered decoratively in gilt threading. The hood kept his head hidden, as was tradition. Yet these trips to a big city gave him an excuse to dress up. Vivi assumed the opulently dressed Mage had probably been out singing at one of the taverns in town. It was his hobby, and he was quite good at it, and he always said he got a better response when he wasn't dressed like a Black Mage.
An inhalation catching in his throat for a second, Vivi straightened up to point back over his shoulder. "I met.. hah... a friend. hah Didn't want… hah… to be late."
"Yes, yes, that's quite alright." The good Doctor assured as he ushered them inside. "Come along, Vivi, a comfortable seat and a cool drink will do you wonders." The Black Mages gave their thanks for the hospitality as they entered. The spiral stairway up to his loft was cluttered with stacked books and parchments, which he had been collecting to research on the Terran technology. Unfortunately, Kuja didn't have enough material on hand to answer all of the Doctor's questions. So he'd been reading through ancient texts of Gaia's Magi, dealing with artificial creation or extension of life. If the jumbled mess was any indication, he still had no clue. Thankfully they all made it to the top of the stairs without anyone tripping. Seeing the scholar's workshop again, after so long, brought a grin to Vivi's tired face. That big globe observatory still dominated the space, but all new shelves and desks were piled up as work space and housing for scripture and odd bits of arcane knick-knacks. The newest addition however, was a fellow Black Mage. Dressed in patched up uniform garb, he quietly cleaned up the loft, replacing books and papers which had been cast about. In this place, that was probably a twenty-four hour job. Upon noticing him a couple of Black Mages went over to avidly greet him.
"Hello, Brother." No. 288 greeted gladly. However, the unknown Mage just returned a brief blank stare before returning to his work. With that one action, the others pretty much assumed his lot. He was Unawakened "I… I call him Lazlo." Doctor Tot offered with lacking enthusiasm, and he went on to explain awkwardly, "I… procured… him a few weeks ago… to help with my research." Obviously the Doctor wasn't very comfortable with the fate of the Unawakened either, though he took advantage of it. After the war, Black Mages were seen as little more than an abomination, so it is no surprise that they were freely abused and mistreated. The hundreds who had been captured in combat, wandered off from their platoons or were simply abandoned with Kuja's fall came to be claimed as private property. Caught in the wild as they were, they became pets and servants to those who gave them orders. Princess Garnet and Regent Cid rallied and gained rights of independence for the Awakened Mages, but to this day, the Unawakened are treated as little more than mindless dolls in many areas. Bought, sold and toyed with at whim, it was a sickening fate. Yet for those with no concern or desire to speak of, it may be as good an existence as any other. Regardless No. 105 continued to chat with the one called Lazlo, helping him put away some books. At least the Mages were optimistic that their brothers could all awaken someday.
No. 288 though, with a melancholic tone, asked the dire question, "How exactly does a mindless doll help you in your research?" A pregnant pause followed the question, during which all eyes, save Lazlo's unconcerned ones, turned to the good Doctor. He pursed his lips oddly, and looked about the room for a second, as if literally trying to find the words to say.
Rubbing his hands together in a somewhat fidgety manner, he finally spoke, "I believe this particular explanation requires a roundabout telling. So, if you would please… have a seat." He gestured to the couch and chairs he'd acquired since Vivi's last trip here. A bit apprehensive, but trusting, the Black Mages found their seats, while Doctor Tot pulled out a cork board with a varied array of mystical scriptures and scribbled notes pinned to it. Turning back to his audience, the scholar wiped his hand across his mouth in more a nervous gesture than a need to clean something away. Then after he drew a steady breath through his wide nostrils, he spoke, "Right then… as you all know, I've been working for quite a while to find a way to… supplement for your… woefully short life spans. Regretfully, it had been a tedious and at times disillusioning venture." Heads hung and shadowed frowns went unseen but not missed, as the Mage's comprehended the perhaps inevitable news. Doctor Tot then cleared his throat to regain their attentions, and offered a half-hearted grin as he went on, "However… I am happy to announce a finding which gives me some bit of hope. You see, in a tangent of my research I started studying the old works of Oshaya, the Golem Maker." Shaking his strange head, the Doctor cited, "I realized pretty quickly that it was a dead end. After all, while Black Mages may be created through an artificial process, the life in them is, by all definition, natural. Yet, an aspect you do share with them is engraved runes." Looking aside to the cleaning drone, Tot called, "Lazlo, would you come here for a moment?" Impassively, the Mage turned from his work and approached its understood Master. The Doctor's next request seemed to come with a bit of hesitation. "Now, Lazlo… please… remove your hat." A couple of heads flinched up in response and some one even gave a gasp. For a Black Mage, revealing one's self had become somewhat of a taboo. Understanding that their appearance was so different, so alien from natural races, they felt it best to keep their bodies covered. Even among each other, they respectfully hid this reminder of their paranormal origin. The apathetic Lazlo, on the other hand, had no such shame, as he reached up and drew the hat from his head.
With the steepled hat came away his black mesh veil which concealed his face. Hugging the skin tight, it almost became a living shadow, when covered by the hat's wide brim and his coat's high collar. Only the mysterious glow behind the big round goggles sewn into the fabric gave the hint of a face beneath. Pale gray skin was revealed as the veil pulled away. This was another reason to covering their bodies so. Born from darkness, their forms are frail when exposed to the light. Skin burns, and their eyes ache from over exposure. In this dimly lit room at night, it mattered little, as Lazlo pulled the mask away, displaying a round, bald head with average, though discolored ears. His mouth was little more than a small slit below a flattened, scrunched up little nose. But it was the eyes which drew attention, glowing amber with no evident pupils. As the lamplight touched upon his scarcely featured countenance, extremely fine little runnels could be seen, if one looked close enough. They mapped out complex sigils in the skin, almost reminiscent of exaggerated fingerprints. Depressing to many even these odd patterns were exactly the same on each Mage of their individual type. All A's had matching sigils, all B's had matching sigils, and all C's had matching sigils. Only the three Black Waltzes and prototypes such as Vivi had their own personal markings. Though, it made precious little difference. He wondered if he would look entirely like the others when he grew up. If he grew up…
While the Mages shifted rather uncomfortably in their seats, Doctor Tot stepped up beside his test subject. Pointing a metal wand along the lines in Lazlo's cheek, the Doctor explained tentatively, "Now… the… engraved patterns… in your skin… are designed to aid in your channeling and focus of elemental energies. The lines which cover the majority of the body are meant as tributaries, networking between the complex focusing runes at the hands, feet, base of the spine, chest and… top of the spine, at the rear of the cranium." With the last mentioned area, Tot led Lazlo to turn by his shoulders, to show the back of his head to their audience. There the lines formed into an elaborate blossoming sigil where the spine met the skull. It was the primary point for their energy focuses when casting spells. Vivi knew that well before Doctor Tot had begun his research. Whenever casting a spell, the boy would feel that spot tingle first. "For most races, when a mage casts a spell, it is an internal process. One's internal energies mold the spell and then reach out to impose their will on the surrounding elements. In order to expedite this process, Kuja shifted it from internal function to an external one. The lines in your skin are designed to mimic the flow of energy within a person's body. These are altered though, to enhance the flow. The tangible existence of these lines already practically doubles your efficiency, since so much less is straying off course, as tends to happen within the body. And then, since the energy which you are expending to mold the elements to your will does not have to traverse from internal to external, casting can be performed quickly and more fluently. It's really quite ingenious. That is if you discount the horrible drain on the caster's life force." Doctor Tot let out a muffled cough, to clear his throat. Then after looking around to see his perplexed and slightly discomforted viewers, he went on, "I mean, any Black Magic drains Life energy, which is why most Mages avoid it. However, Kuja hardwired it into your systems, making it an inevitable fact of life for you. By drawing in Mist your bodies would replenish a portion of this lost time. However, even the Mist can not repair all. Hence, as long as your bodies are constantly at the ready to cast Black Magic, you'll always be losing vital life energy." It was a blatant truth, which Mages were already well aware of, yet Doctor Tot kept them hanging to his words, as he explained, "This does however, propose a simple, if not extreme, answer." He reached up quickly, like he would rip a stuck bandage away, and tugged down Lazlo's high collar to reveal the center of the sigil at the back of his head. Over it a new symbol was branded, scarred into the flesh. A series of shocked gasps and the rustling of the furniture as the Mages recoiled from the sight, before Tot spoke, "If we are to stop the flow of Magic, we stop the loss of life."
"Wha- what have you done?" No.288 woefully demanded. Doctor Tot did not bother to look him in the eye. With a stammering voice, the Mage leader accused, "You-you've… mutilated him!" It was the only word that seemed to fit. Distraught, the conical hat men showed their revulsion in shaken heads, murmured denials and random upset gestures of hand and head. It was not so much the act that they found so disturbing. Many of them carried scars from the war. That was no matter. More, it was the subject. Vivi stared at the Doctor as if he had never known the man before. To perform such an act to a being which could not choose to refuse, it seemed so… inhumane.
Keeping his gaze averted from those of his distressed guests, the scholar tried to explain, "I know that this seems an evil act. However, I ask you to understand. It may have been a vile choice, but it was for the right reasons."
"What reason could there be to use a being so?" No.192 demanded in a meager tone.
"While Lazlo could never give a refusal, I felt the potential good far justified the questionable means." The Mages were in disbelief, yet they let their usually trusted friend speak. "When I came across Lazlo, working for a merchant here in town, he was having constant pausing periods. His master was annoyed because he could not follow orders anymore, and could barely even stand under his own power at times. He had only weeks of life left, maybe just days." The Mages were quiet as they listened, pacified, if only partially by that news. "It seemed unfair he should die never having the chance to know himself, so… I optioned him as the experimental subject of this procedure." Lazlo remained unmoving and unresponsive as his situation was discussed. Meanwhile, his more sentient brethren were softening, in spite of their sickness.
Eventually the question had to come up though, and Vivi surprised even him self by being the one to speak, "Di-did it… work?" Eyes glanced quickly to the smallest of the group before turning anxiously to the Doctor. He drew a deep breath into his slightly whistling nostrils, before giving a purposeful nod. Jaws dropped.
"After the procedure, Lazlo's freeze ups ceased. He's had no trouble taking complex order and I'm even trying to teach him to read." A ghost of a grin met the Doctor's lips as he tilted his head aside to muse, "Of course, teaching someone with no will to learn is near impossible."
"The life span-" No. 123 gave a gulp, which cut into his sentence. "Will he…? I mean… How long do you think he'll…?"
"It's too early to say." Doctor Tot answered, not quite cutting off the verbally stumbling man. "Lazlo here was among the first edition Type A's. He's older than most Black Mages still functioning today. So of course he has less time left than most." The Mages waited as Doctor Tot ventured onward, "Preliminary estimation is that he has a good ten to fifteen years ahead of him." Gasps passed among them as they heard the potentially good news, "Of course younger Mages would have much more life still in them. For instance, those made near the end of Kuja's tinkering may have as long as thirty to forty years."
"By Pheonix's wings…" No. 192 barely breathed out the words as he gripped the brass and amber pendant of a bird which hung from his neck. "Can it really be true?" No. 189 pondered aloud.
The Mages were alive with sudden hope and astonishment, yet No. 288 managed to cautiously call, "Doctor…?"
He shook his oversized head, stating firmly, "We cannot be sure yet. While the initial results are extremely promising, I admit that there is much I still do not understand about your physiology. There may be unforeseen complications or side-effects. I don't know yet." Turning to his emotionless test subject, the Doctor confided, "We can only hope that Lazlo can in some way tell us if something is wrong." Like a doll, the Mage in question stood there unmoving. There wasn't much hope of him giving detailed answers of his health any time soon. So the topic was breached, "I was wondering if… one of the older Mages… one nearing stopping… might volunteer. I know it is a big request. After all, he would be giving up his magic. It may not be a vital aspect to life, but it is something which you have had throughout your comparably short existences. You may suffer withdrawals, Your bodies, use to constantly processing mana, will be starved for some replacement." Sighing he admitted, "Of course I am only speculating. But still… it is probably something you wish to talk over before making any decisions."
"Doctor Tot…" He had just finished his warning when No. 288 spoke up once more, "We were born with Magic in us. This is true. However, think of the purpose it was given to us for." The leader's head drooped as he morbidly reminisced, "We were given black magic for the sole purpose of ending lives." Tot could only imagine the frowning countenance beneath 288's mask. Yet he knew it was there. "We must face horrid memories of people dying at our hands. Even if we knew no better, we committed those deeds." His voice became choked in the last few words, and swallowed now to clear it before asking concretely, "Is there any doubt that we would gladly give away these mystical weapons which remind us of those misdeeds, if only for a chance to live a little longer to make up for them?"
((I may not continue this story for a while. But I wanted to get the prologue up to concrete the project, so to speak. This sets the stage of things which happened between the final fight in the game and months later when Zidane made his big return at the play and Vivi showed up with his 'sons'. I'm going to be aiming for a drama/action/comedy blend. So hopefully I won't disappoint. That is if anyone reads. Thanks in advance. Lunauc))