A note from senior author David Logan:

The intention is to take the story of Final Fantasy VI and use it to create a work that looks and feels like a published novel. Despite the fact this will technically be considered a fan-fiction, there will be no corner cutting. We will take the same care with this wonderful work of art as though it were one of our own stories.

Our editor Lisa Fenix, is in progress of giving a complete overhaul to all posted chapters. Please be patient with us, as we all have other responsibilities and can only work on this story in our free time. Stay tuned! Much more to follow!

Cover art by 47ness

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Final Fantasy VI is one of my favorite stories of all time and I'm excited to present it in a novel format. This story is not written for profit, but is a celebration for our love of FFVI and hopefully a way to honor the talented individuals who brought us the original game and its re-releases! It is our hope that anyone who happens to read this story will enjoy it as much as we do. We also have a facebook page under /FinalFantasyVIUnofficialNovelisation

All characters/locations/terms from the Final Fantasy video game series are exclusive property of Square Enix or other respective property holders.

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.o.O.o.

Final Fantasy VI

World of Balance

Prologue

Vector was a wonder in its own time. A marvel in a world of marvels. The silhouette of its grand structures decorated the horizon with splendor. The domed tops of its lofty towers pierced the heavens with beauty. Foundations of stone and steel stretched forth burying the surrounding plains beneath industrious streets.

The city was the heart and capital of the great force of man-made might known collectively as the Empire. It had come to be the beacon of prosperity to the surrounding lands. All eyes on the Southern Continent now turned to Vector to lead them. Within the cities' encompassing walls, crime was almost non-existent, life expectancy was high, and the steam engines ran on time to the tune of the iron will of the self-proclaimed Emperor Gestahl.

A squadron of dual-propeller flying machines zipped under an arching bridge. No citizen of Vector above or below spared more than a momentary glance as the whirring crafts passed between rows of factories and tall buildings.

At the heart of the capital, they emerged into an open area surrounding the Imperial Palace. The vehicles slowed their engines and entered a docking bay high above the city streets.

The machines, known as Sky Armor, were the preferred transportation of Kefka Palazzo, the Emperor's personal advisor and aide. Emperor Gestahl had chosen this day to see the majority of his presidium gathered within the Imperial Palace. Even the highest officials came running when summoned by the emperor, and in this regard, Kefka was no different.

The Sky Armor lowered itself to the ground, coming to rest upon a single landing skid that extended downward and bent back on a spring-loaded hinge. Its two metal arms lowered for balance, and with a hiss of steam its glass cockpit lifted, revealing the occupants within. Kefka stood with a dramatic stretch and a long, lazy yawn. He placed his hand on the back of the pilot's helmet for support as he swung his leg over the side and climbed down the short ladder.

On the ground, two soldiers in black uniforms and brown leather shoulder harnesses waited to escort him.

"Sir! All set, Sir?" one of them asked loudly, his right hand clasped over his breast.

Kefka winced at the noise, grunting in irritation. "Please, there's no need to bay like a bitch in heat. The emperor isn't interested in waiting until I am all set, now is he? I'm already late, thanks to..." He glanced back up at the pilot. "Well...whatever his name is."

"Yes, Sir," the soldier murmured.

This served only to make Kefka's eye twitch, and the soldier found his gaze wandering to anything other than the peculiar man before him. The emperor's aide was a myriad of color, with sleeves of deep purple and trousers of green and yellow. A crimson cape was draped across one of his shoulders and dragged the ground behind him. His robes of bright red were ornamented with a striped collar so high it was considered pompous even in the fashion-forward South.

Worst of all were his eyes, a pale and piercing shade of blue, surrounded by three red markings that streaked across his flesh from the corners of the lids. The marks curved downward like talons, tapering off at the conclusion of his high cheekbones. They gave him a startling appearance that seemed to hint at some unspoken malice.

Kefka turned suddenly, and one of his escorts ducked to avoid the long orange feather set in his hair. The men hurried ahead of him to the hangar bay doors. Turning the large dial handles, they pulled them outward, allowing the aide admittance to a private section of the palace to which only the most favored of Gestahl's presidium were granted access.

.o.O.o.

Kefka left the soldiers standing in the hallway as he slipped between a set of thick red curtains onto his recessed personal balcony. The dimly lit enclave was one of two opposite the raised dais where the emperor was already addressing the assembled governing officials and military personnel. Ignoring the empty seats on either side of him, Kefka strode forward and curled his fingers around the handrail. Facing forward, he took a moment to survey the vast meeting hall.

For all that he was white-bearded and bent by time, Gestahl had chosen this day to wear majestic golden battle armor. Ornamental horns sprouted from the shoulders to greet his long, full hair. He was a large and imposing physical presence on any occasion, but with the added height from his thick-soled boots, he was made taller than anyone else in the room. He looked as though he were prepared to ride forth in conquest at the head of his cavalry. In reality, the aging monarch had long ago ceased taking an active role in his incursions other than pulling the strings of his loyalists. Kefka had at best a waning interest in the topic at hand: a relatively small plot of land by the name of Doma that had remained mostly beneath his notice up to this point. Not that he expected it to be around much longer now that the emperor had set his sights on the place. The hovel was inhabited by some outdated 'thee' and 'thou' people, a proud but foolish lot who cleaved to ancient traditions that seemed as ludicrous to Kefka as did the name of their pitiful kingdom. The most subtle of smirks slithered across his lips. Destroying places with dumb names brought him untold gratification.

Gestahl nodded at a soldier who unhooded a humming slide projector, displaying a large map of Doma Castle and the surrounding areas.

"Yawn..." Kefka mumbled disinterestedly, glancing around the room. His fingers drummed once across the banister before he put a halt to the absent-minded gesture.

In the balcony on the adjacent wall sat a blonde woman in a black petal dress. Her blue eyes shone like moonlight reflected across a frozen lake. Her facial features were so symmetrically perfect that it would not be out of place to compare her looks to those of the sculpted marble statues that lined the halls of the palace's living chambers. So focused was she that she neglected to notice the aide's probing eyes inspecting her.

"Oh-Ce-les," he sang under his breath.

Perhaps she suddenly felt his lingering gaze upon her, for she looked up at him with surprise and a trace of disgust. Inwardly, Kefka enjoyed having that effect on people. The red marks of power that curved from his eyes unnerved those beneath his greatness, to his infinite glee.

Kefka's mouth pulled up into a flat and thin-lipped smile, and with effort Celes averted her gaze. As she turned completely away from him, his smile widened all the more.

"If necessary, we will destroy the ports in Southsail," the Emperor continued speaking to the crowd. "This should prevent Doma from receiving provision from its allies. Yet hope remains for a more peaceful solution."

Kefka's face brightened when he caught the word 'destroy'. He looked down to observe what he hoped would be the end of Gestahl's ramblings.

"General Cristophe, has Doma received our offer of compromise?" The Emperor's black cape faced the assembly as he turned his attention to the group seated behind him.

General Leopold Cristophe sat behind Gestahl in the last chair near the entrance to the dais. He was dressed in his customary green greatcoat, with its gold-trimmed high collar and fringed epaulettes. He wore it well, like a second skin it seemed, a fitting example for his fellow soldiers. In fact, almost everything about Leo was meticulously arranged with the utmost care, from the polished fittings of his longsword to the gold bullion threading of the Imperial insignia on his uniform's left breast. He had even taken the greatest of care with something as trivial as the extra coat of polish upon his boots. General Leo was without a doubt, Kefka's least favorite person he could imagine.

Under the emperor's expectant gaze, Leo shifted in his chair and sniffed. He stood just a little too slowly and paused to button his coat across his mid-section before responding. This piqued Kefka's interest. The general was stalling.

"We received their reply today, Your Imperial Majesty," Leo said at last. The microphones placed at the outer edges of the dais insured his voice was carried to all.

"Excellent." The Emperor's tone only seemed to repeat his prior question.

"My liege, perhaps this is a matter best discussed in private. Communication between divergent cultures can be diffi-"

"General Cristophe." Gestahl pronounced the name with a hint of irritation. "I asked you a simple question. Can you not give me a simple answer?"

Leo sucked in a breath before finally answering. "Of course, my Lord."

Gestahl nodded in approval.

Kefka held his breath in anticipation. He could only imagine the delightful new ways in which Leo was about to embarrass himself in front of the entire assembly.

"I have a reply penned by General Ranyierd himself." Leo looked down at his hands and unrolled a parchment. "Verily, thou art a decisive ruler with intentions honorable and gestures befitting of thy nobility. However, we decline to bow to thee with the same fervor as we would likewise decline lowering our guard to a common, villainous, tallow-faced contriver, from whom thou, for thy part, would likewise turn away. Happily we bend knee to family, country, and King. To thee we stand and say..." General Leo met his emperor's eyes. "Fare thee well."

A wave of outrage rippled through the crowd. A few blustering politicians came to their feet to denounce the foreign knights. Cries of 'How dare they!' and 'Unforgivable!' rang out above the noise. General Leo risked a fleeting glance at the balconies. He saw Celes cast her eyes to the floor, concealing her thoughts on the matter. The emperor's aide was not so subtle. It was all Kefka could do to keep from doubling over with laughter. He buried his face within his sleeve and pounded his fist upon the railing.

Leo tore the Doman proclamation in half and let the pieces drop from his hands. The room fell silent. "Forgive me, Majesty. Their insubordination will be dealt with."

Gestahl addressed the crowd with a bemused tone. "Domans are known for their grand phrasing when they mean to be condescending. Consequently, they are always wordy. They shall find their emperor, however, more plainspoken. Cut off all supply routes to their castle. Let us see if we can improve their manner of diplomacy. Given time, they may find our offer more enticing." He did not afford so much as a glance back at his general.

"As you command, Imperial Majesty," Leo replied.

As the general took his seat, Gestahl continued, "As a final matter, intelligence reports that South Figaro has become a stronghold for the rebel group known as the Returners. I spoke to King Figaro about it when some of our troops mysteriously vanished near there. He denied all knowledge of their disappearance and promised to send search parties for them at once." Gestahl paused. "In short...he lied. To what extent, I am not yet certain."

The emperor turned to his side and strode ponderously across the dais. His expression was stern and unyielding as his attention slowly turned toward the balconies.

"General Chere!"

Celes's eyes lifted suddenly at the mention of her name. All heads turned toward her as she came to her feet, standing straight and proud, awaiting the will of her emperor. The two soldiers seated behind her followed her example. She did not speak, but offered a low bow of acknowledgement.

The emperor's voice, for a fleeting moment, revealed the deep hurt he had been so carefully hiding. "It...pains me to have been betrayed by King Edgar-one whom I not so very long ago considered a friend." He returned to his previous resolute composure. "Prepare to depart for South Figaro. It is time I showed that young fool I mean business."

"Imperial Majesty," Celes said, and nodded dutifully.

"Good." The emperor returned the gesture. "This meeting is adjourned."

Kefka let out a long sigh of relief before turning from the handrail. He slipped through the curtain at the back of the balcony and passed between his soldier escorts without bothering to look at them. The two men paused for the briefest of moments, surprised to find him walking briskly away.

"Get lost," Kefka said without looking back. His eyes were locked straight ahead, and he strode forward with purpose in his step.

He followed his private hallway to a set of red-carpeted stairs emptying out on the western end of the dais. As he arrived, General Leo, who had just finished speaking with the Emperor, gave a final bow before filing out after the other officers.

"Why do these things have to be so long?" Kefka whined as he cleared the bottom steps.

Gestahl turned toward his trusted aide with an acknowledging lift of his eyebrows. "The aspirations of the meager decay if deprived the will of the significant. In other words, to add meaning to their otherwise pointless...lives."

He spoke without fear that the microphones might broadcast his voice. They had been shut off punctually the moment he commanded the meeting to end.

"Hmph," Kefka agreed with a smirk.

Gestahl paused a moment in contemplation. "Kneel..." he said. The downward wave of his hand politely suggested a return to proper decorum.

Ever the prudent servant, Kefka lowered himself to one knee, and his gaze dropped to the ground. "My Emperor," he said with adoration.

"Mmh." Gestahl nodded with satisfaction. "I have some matters requiring a degree of discretion, and I thought you should see to them personally. I want you to have Cid initiate production of the second battalion. Magitek will be the key to our victory against the Northern strongholds. Have they not seen the foolishness of resistance?"

Kefka's face lifted. "None can see as clearly as you."

The emperor motioned for his aide to stand. "I will also be expecting you to keep short reins on our two ambitious generals. Report to me often. Things are beginning to come together. Do not overlook the smallest detail. I have trusted you many times to handle such things for me, and I know you will tap every resource to insure nothing goes awry. We will not allow Doma or Figaro to stand in the way of progress. If left unchecked, our enemies could well unite against us. We must squelch this possibility, no matter the cost."

Gestahl's eyebrows rose expectantly.

"It will be my pleasure," Kefka said, and gave a sardonic smile.

"This brings us to what is perhaps your most important assignment. I have been in dialogue with Mayor Warren. It would seem the mountains of Narshe hold a greater treasure than diamonds and stone. A treasure that has been hidden away for some time. There is a creature buried there, a winged serpent, I'm told. An esper."

Kefka's expression brightened with sudden intrigue.

Gestahl continued. "I am pleased that you are eager. We cannot leave such a precious resource in incapable hands, can we? You must lay siege to this town. I want it. All of it. Where one specimen has been uncovered, there are likely more. I have briefed the soldiers you will need for this mission. They are standing by, as is our lovely Terra."

Kefka craned his neck and unconsciously wrung his hands. "Terra...Majesty?"

"Indeed. She will be a great tool in acquiring this...creature. You have always taken special interest in her training. Today you will see your efforts rewarded. I trust her care only to your hands. Do not let her out of your sight for a moment. She is still hot-tempered, I fear, and may require further guidance. You know she is as much a daughter to me as you are endeared to my heart as a son."

Kefka was overwhelmed by the emperor's display of sentiment and froze where he stood. The expression dropped from his face. It took several seconds to collect himself, and his voice was barely audible. "Of course, Your Majesty. Your words are engraved upon my very soul."

"Then you are dismissed."

The emperor's aide bowed softly and reluctantly turned back toward his staircase.

"Oh, and Kefka..."

The aide halted and turned once more to his master.

"Do not return without her."

Kefka gave another quick bow before heading off to tend to his duties. There seemed to be a certain spring in his step that had not been there before.