Anima Part 1

by Cornicis Atra Anima

PG 13 for language and mild content. A political prisoner escapes Bethla Garrison, but why on earth did Vormav want her in the first place?

Chapter I

It was indeed a sin, his father had told him that a number of times, but it was one of the only sins that he actually found himself taking immense pleasure in. It had, in fact, become a daily ritual, like getting dressed or eating. He would steal away from work, shirk his guard duty, and indulge in this most virtuous-seeming of sins for as long as he could. After all, it was one of the few things in life that made him feel happy, sin or no sin. In fact, he could scarely believe it was a sin at all. After all, how could a sin make him feel so damn good? He always left with a smile, be it a devious smirk of a self-proclaimed sinner or not. After all, she had told him herself that, be this a sin, he was a very virtuous sinner. And, sin or not, at least he was consistant. He had been sinning in such a manner, in a dark, secluded corner of the castle, for about four years now.

In fact, today's "sinning" would not only include him. He had somehow managed, probably through brute force or blackmail, to bring his best friend with him. Jerchai, a rather reticent guard and complacent soldier, was now his partner in crime. Jer had never actually done this before, having taken the rumors of going to Hell if it was done rather seriously, but he had been convinced to do it, so he traversed done the rough-hewn stone steps to the bowels of the prison. "The perfect place to damn my soul," he said softly.

Izlude Tingel, the sinner himself, shook his head. "Jer, my father is a madman. If this was a sin, I'd have been struck dead by now." This did nothing to soothe Jerchai's rampaging conscience, but, looking at Izlude's determined glance, that furrowed brow, that slight smile lingering on his face, he knew there was no turning back.

Holding the torch above his head, the continued down the cold, damp corridor far beneath the walls of Bethla Garrison. This was certainly-he had to pardon the term-one hell of a place to sell off his soul for a few minutes of what Izlude described as, 'two hundred times more entertaining than sex with a drawbridge guard'. Jer doubted it heavily. As far as he knew, Izlude could make no such comparison accurately. And leave it to him to leave his friend with such an unappetizing picture. Jer knew he'd probably never be able to look at those massive, muscular, surly drawbridge guards straight in the face ever again. Not that he had liked to before.

Izlude crept forward, scanning the cells slowly. This area of the dungeon was by far the least used, which made sense. It was inconvenient to get to, hard on the knees, and starting to fall apart. The floor, made of quarried stone, was uneven and falling into disuse and disrepair, with moisture shining everywhere in the flickering torchlight like diamonds. They both knew that this part of the dungeon was below sea level, so that some moisture tended to pool into it, even in this fairly arid area. The air was pleasantly cool, even cold compared to the air outside, but the air was stagnant and had a faint odor of decay. His back stiffened like a hunting dog pointing a bird, and Jerchai immediately got sick to his stomach. There, in the archaic, musty, damp, cold, fetid, aging cell, lay a figure. Barely cloaked in the rough garb given to all prisoners, head bent down, arms chained cruelly behind the back, breathing raggedly, was a girl. Her hair was black and hung down to the floor easily, and she was very neatly pinned to the floor in the back corner, knees drawn to her chest. Hearing the sound of footsteps, she slowly picked her head up. He could see now that part of her hair was pinned up on the back of her head, but Jer was unsure why that would be an advantage in this situation. Seeing Izlude just outside her cell, she smiled softly. He grinned back at the prisoner roguishly, handing the torch to Jerichai.

She slowly ran her tongue along her lips, the coughed. "So, this strapping young man is the friend of yours you spoke of?" she said, perfectly accented with a hint of an elevated tone. She was definitely not a typical prisoner. Everything about her spoke of that fact most distinctly, and all of them knew it.

Izlude nodded. "Sabia, this is Jerchai. Jer, this is Sabia." He looked at her expectantly. "Did they give you a new chain?"

"No, they haven't a clue, the fools. Since I am not threatening their lives, they haven't a reason to check it." She made a small noise, then-despite the chain which appeared to be securely threaded through the loop on the floor, which was cemented into place quite securely-she stood up, after a moment of moving her arms. She walked very slowly to the barred front of the small cell, which was only a few steps, then sat again right beside Izlude, with only the bars between them. It was then that Jerchai could see faintly in the torchlight that the loop of the pin had been cut near the bottom, just large enough for the chain to pass through with some effort. When she sat, it was impossible to tell anything had been done.

"I'm glad you're alright, Sabia, I truly am. I tried to come down here last night, and my father told me if I did..." He kissed her cheek gently. Jer was still on edge.

"May I ask, Izlude, why you have fallen for this girl and not for a scullery maid or some such?"

Izlude scowled. "Jer, this girl is a prisoner," he stressed the word, "and one unjustly made. Would you tell him the story?"

She nodded. "I will tell what I remember. I was a young girl, living in Goug with my foster parents, spending my days with Papa, and I loved every minute of life in Goug. Papa was an Engineer, and I spent many days in his shop, learning about the tools and machinery left by the Old Ones. The Old Ones were gone, he told me, and these airships and machines were all that was left. He told me stories of his adventures in the tunnels, about all the wonderful weapons these people had, which were much better than ours, and he basically adopted me. He was a close friend of my foster family, and the head of one of the excavation teams on the tunnels and traveling traders of the reconditioned goods, so he had many things to show me. He had a son, of course, but he was on a trip and rather far away, and he was lonely. He also tole me that, secretly, he had always wanted a daughter. So, I was adopted by two families then: my mother and father, and Papa. I loved my mother and father as well, but when they were traveling, and I was left in Papa's care at those times. Papa said he loved the curiosity in my eyes, that I would make a wonderful engineer. My biological parents had died was I was an infant, and I had been in several homes since then. Every family I was with somehow had some sort of problem after I moved in, and those that were still alive quickly got rid of me. My family in Goug, however, saw no problems after six years of living with them, so I believed foolishly that my cursing of families was over. If it had only been that way..

" I believe it was June, and it was pleasantly warm. That day, my parents and I were out picking flowers in the field outside Goug. The sun was bright, the breeze was blowing, and all was well. I suddenly heard a noise-chocobos-but I wasn't worried in the least. Chocobos were common in the area, even mounted ones used by merchants, traders, and traveling performers. I heard another sound on it, too, which sounded like metal. This was common as well, but there was far too much of it hitting other metal to be a normal caravan. I bit my lip, but I figured it might have been anything, that I worry too much. It wasn't long after, as the sound got louder and louder, that I saw them.

"Six men-two knights, two archers, a monk, and a wizard- all mounted, had come straight for us. My parents held me tightly, and answered every question the knights had. One of the knights was clearly the leader, but I was not scared of him. His eyes were hard, unfeeling, and cruel, and his hair was blonde like Papa's. He looked like a regular knight, of course, but I could feel that he was very kind. After a bit of arguing, he drew his sword.

"After that, it was a bedlam. I was going to take out the weapon that Papa had given me as a gift, but the monk came from behind and held my arms to my sides. Then, he put me on his chocobo, sat behind me, and told me not to look back. I didn't have to look back, for a knew what was happening: the knight had killed my parents. They had been slaughtered rather awfully. I know because althought they tried to keep me from seeing it, I did see almost all of it. My mother...." she bit her lip.

Jerchai nodded. "I've been on a handful of raids. They raped her, right?"

The girl nodded, "They did, and then they killed her. They all took a turn, of course, all except for the leader, who rode me off as soon as he could. The other caught up with him. They broke my father's arms, then they broke his ribs and took off his head with the sword. I was put 'on trail' for five days. That meant I spent ten hours a day, arms bound behind my back, either marching between the soldiers-which the archers liked to make me do, or riding with the lead knight, which the knight seemed to prefer. It sat with them when they ate, but they fed me twice on the entire jouney. However, I did get to hear everything they spoke of. Since I hadn't spoken since they abducted me, they must have figured I was deaf or mute. It was very informative.

"The knight which had lead the attack, his name was Wiegraf. He, unlike the others, really didn't want to do this job. He was a bit more compassionate towards me, and a bit protective. He didn't like me, though. I think he just wanted to keep the others from treating me roughly. "

"Well, how protective was he? Wiegraf was fairly chivalrous in his day, you know. He was a real knight before he became involved in that equality thing," Izlude said.

"He let me ride his chocobo with his when I could not longer march, and I slept in his tent with him. He said it was for protection."

The young men looked at each other. "Wiegraf liked little girls?" Jerchai asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing like that. He said it obviously wasn't safe for me with anyone else. I believe he hired a handful of rogues to help him, then paid them after we got to Bethla. When we did get to Bethla, the checked all of my garments for weapons, then put me in this," she gestured rather disgustedly at the rough cloth garment. "I was placed down here. I've been in this cell off and on since I was twelve."

Jechai looked at the girl sadly. "Why are you here?"

She shook her head. "They never said, at least not to me. I could hear them arguing a little when I was first brought in, but it stopped soon after, and I was placed here. I found out that I was to share a cell with a monk, and, although he was a lovely young man.."

"Sharing cells down here? It's unnecessary.." the knight added.

"Indeed. Not only that, the monk stank."

"Well, all prisoners get a bit smelly after a while...you don't bathe, after all.." Jer explained.

"Well, I smelled bad, but he STANK. He smelled awful, and we had nothing to say to each other. Izlude moved him, which was a blessing. He was a nice man, though, locked up for Heresy."

"Was that the monk who countered The Prophesy?"Jer asked Izlude, who nodded. "I though they were to kill him."

"Father said he was useful. That was all he told me, that he'd be useful."

Jer shrugged. "They probably plea bargained, then." "Jer, my father does not plea bargain with heretics. If he gets his hand on Balbane's son, the child won't survive, trust me."

The girl shifted her weight anxiously. "Speaking of such, Izlude, what is happening?"

Izlude sat on the floor on the other side of the bars. "The war's picking up pace, I might have to go with my father soon. It's horrible, I feel for Ramza, but I can't do anything from here."

She digested the information for a second. "And what is that battle over now, anyway?"

"The Church wants power, the king wants power, the knights want power, the princes want power..but the Church has become more rigid in inspection. They are obsessed with the blasted prophesy, Sabia, trying to find this Dark One and kill him before the Chuch is affected. It's not going well."

She nodded. "The Church translated The Prophesy themselves, didn't they?"

"Absolutely, they found the text buried in the Orbonne library," Jerchai stated. "It's an essential text. I've read it once a month since I was ten...the Church seems to have a handle on the situation."

"Izlude, you're friend's not real bright, is he? I'd wager not, if he's that enamored in Church fairy tales.I only asked because I've read the original text and the Church translation. They don't match up."

"They don't?" Both men asked in unison, clearly disturbed.

"No, here, let me show you.." She said, clearing her voice. "This is the Church translation:

"The Winged One, soul dark as night

Holds the secret deep inside

Cold and dark the days will be

Whence the winged one sees day

Long are the nights spent in darkness

Thus the Unbeliever and the Traitor, free

Find solace in the Winged One

The Unbeliever, the Witch, the Traitor

Love the Winged One

And the spawn of Lucavi bows to the Winged One

The reckoning of the evil is in the hands of D'jali

Sent for Ivalice from Heaven itself

And thus all the dark souls

Will send themselves to Hell

D'jail has stength and sees the evil

And defends us with the goodness of God

The Darkness is at hand,

When the crown

Of Hellfire and Death

Is demolished forver

D'jali and the Winged One will battle

And the Winged One will persish

And take the Unbeliever, the Witch, the Traitor, the Sinner

Amen."

"However, there is no substantial evidence to say the Winged One is Lucavi in the original. Here:

"The Winged Soul is dark as night

And holds a secret deep inside

Cold and dark are the days in which

The Winged One will escape into the dankness

Long nights has the Winged One seen darkness

The Unbeliever and the Traitor will gather thusly,

The Witch and the Gravedigger will sing praises

To the Winged One's courage and power, divine

The Witch, the Traitor, the Unbeliever in the ways of God

Will love the Winged One's majesty

D'jali will reckon in the evil in hearts of man

Sent from the sky, a blessed form,

Will send the corrupted black hearts to ash and

Nothingness.

D'jali will battle with the Winged One,

Whose stength will be immense alongside

The Gravedigger's gift and the Traitor's love,

The Witch's heart and the Unbeliever's soul

The spawn of Lucavi will bow before the Winged One

The world's peace will be secure once the crown

Of Hellfire is demolished

And the New Crown, The Crown of Fire and Thorns,

Will unite the blessed people

When the Winged One perishes,

The Gravedigger, The Witch, The Traitor will grieve

And the eyes of the Unbeliever will be opened."

"Do you see the difference?" She relaxed slightly.

Izlude nodded. "The Church makes the Winged One Lucavi, and places all people within the castes of the characters. The other version incinuates that the Winged One appears evil, but isn't, and that the characters are individual people, not types of people. Am I right?"

She nodded. "Absolutely, Izlude. You must remember, the text was incomplete either way. The second is taken directly from what's left of the manuscript. As you can see, the Church interpreted it one way, and you just saw a whole other side of the characters. I mean, even the words from the document are mysterious. Doesn't it make you wonder what the idioms mean? I mean, the Church is obviously using this for its own gain, either that or the entire Church is so ignorant that they accidentally did this, or accepted the translation. I read an exact copy of the original document, and the Church is passing out their twisted version. It really makes me wonder."

Izlude nodded knowingly. "You never told me that before."

"It never came up before. Besides, your friend may see a new face of the Church, the one that no person is supposed to see." Demure and soft-spoken as always, she smiled. "After all, if you have two faces, both cannot be in the light."

"Wise as always, Sabia," Izlude said softly, kissing her cheek again. She blushed.

"It is merely an old saying, please don't credit me."

Jerchai laughed. "Izlude, don't forget that your father wants to scourge her later. I'm leaving." With that, he lit the torch in the sconce and left with the other torch in hand.

The girl shook her head, "Mindless Church puppets, blind to the facts they could see with even a grain of skepticism. So very sad."

"Jer's a good friend of mine, but I tend not to agree with him on the Church. He thinks they're perfect, but I can clearly see logical flaws, canon flaws, personal flaws, translation flaws..."

"When one has a handhold, one tends not to let go for the sake of tact," she noted. "Those Churchmen have a lot to answer for."

"Anyway, I kept my end of the bargain, so you keep yours. You know what I want." He smirked. "You do it so well, after all."

"Please, sir, you flatter me. Here, you remember what I taught you thus far? This will all be very useful later, trust me."

He took a deep breath. "Where did you learn this, anyway? It's leaves one so...euphoric."

She smiled. "You'll be able to do it standing after a while, the dizziness fades the more you do it."

"Really, you must have done this a lot, then."

She laughed, "Yes, I have. Now, be quiet and relax, Izlude. Just feel it."

He closed his eyes. Another wild night with the prisoner. If this was a sin, he was a sinner, and he was enjoying every heavenly minute of it.

Chapter II

The girl's breathing had become labored over the course of a few minutes. It had taken her this long to run from Bethla in the horrifying blizzard the entire area was experiencing. She fought hard to breathe, and had to force herself to keep running. The snow would cover her tracks, but it wouldn't cover her. She had to keep moving somehow. The wind whirled about her fiercely, threatening to knock her over right where she stood, mid-leg deep in snow in the silent evergreen forest. Hearing the chocobos catching up to her, she ran off the beaten path behind the largest tree. Digging furiously in the snow with numbed hands, she pulled enough snow off of the groud-level branches to crawl under it swiftly. It surprised her, but it was actually warmer under the tree. She pulled herself under the large tree entirely and waited, bending branches a touch to see out onto the path. She shivered, more with fear than cold. She had done it.

She heard the chocobos plodding through the snow, weighed down with knights and armor and weapons, just two of them. She backed away from the small window she had made and watched them stop right in front of her. In the cold white silence, she was sure her pounding heart would get her caught. She could definitely hear it, what made her sure they couldn't?

They were side-by-side, an older knight and a younger one. The older knight was taller, more proper in the saddle and more graceful. His blonde hair had a few broad bands of gray in it, but a youthful face which actually benefitted from the color. His cool, mint-green eyes scanned the snow, then shook his head. He sneered a little, throughly frustrated. "Damn trail's cold already. I thought for sure I had her, too."

The younger knight shook his head roughly, knocking several inches of snow from his black hair. He looked at the tree briefly, then sat back in the saddle. "So, tell me about this escape.."

The older man sighed. "No one has any idea what happened, except that the knight sent to guard her was found dead. At first, they thought he had did from blood loss, since he'd obviously been stabbed a few times with his own sword. Then they thought the piece of metal from a mancle was the cause of death, because they found that, too. Then they thought he had been hung with another length of chain, because it was around his neck. We think it all happened simultaniously. The guards sounded an alarm, then they found her in the monk's cell. He fought the guards, and she helped, and all we know is the death count: five guards and the monk. The girl took off at some point during the fight and ran through the the snow for five miles before her trail ran cold just now. "

"Hot fuckin' damn, seriously? I saw her once, never seemed the type of girl who would fight back. So why do we have to find her?" He looked around the forest indignantly.

"For two reasons, kid. Number one, Vormav wants her back, and he'll rip off our dicks and toss 'em in the fire if we fail. Number two, Izlude is worried and wants her back, and he'll cut off our heads and feed them to the Morbols if we fail him. And I guess there is a number three, and it's this: I like my dick and my head right where they are, so we find her. Clear enough for you?"

This the knight did not like that at all. "I just happen to have heard nothing but heresay. I figured a crusty old respected Senior Guard would know what really happened, alright?"

"Yeah, sure, butter me up, kid, maybe I won't kill you. I didn't get a scar the whole way up my bicep from letting punk knights talk dirty about me, you know. I don't like punk little Standard Guard snotfaced upstarts pissing around in my business, clear? I don't know why I had to bring you, but I hope you plan on telling Vormav you were being a brat and fucked this up, because I'm not reporting this." He tossed his head with a regal air. "I am not taking the axe because you're an inept dumbass."

The younger knight seemed a bit shaken. "What, who, me? Nuh-uh, Senior officer reports, even I know that."

He smiled cruelly. "Want to try and make me?"

The boy was silent.

"My point exactly! That stupid-ass seniority rule may fly in Gariland, where you're all too busy getting drunk to worry about getting a cane across the ass for a screwup, but you've hit the big time now. Vormav wouldn't hesitate to kill you for a second if you fuck up a mission like this. I'm the Senior officer, I make the rules. And I'm telling you, I am not reporting the failure, you are. That clear?"

The boy jumped slightly. "Yes, yes it is..."
"Good. Now, tell me what you see here."

"Um, a forest, covered in snow. A blizzard, cold wind, evergreens, probably some animals under those...umm.."

"Okay, I've made my point. What of those features is most deadly to a person?"

He thought for a long minute. ?"

"Very good. The cold will kill a person first, I hope that wasn't too much of a strain on your feeble little mind. Now, how do we use that to our advantage?"

"..Stay out of it ourselves?"

The knight looked at him, puzzled. "Sweet mother of God, I think you might actually using your brain for something besides mentally undressing the scullery maids! And what do we do after out and find her after the cold's killed her, then claim it wasn't our fault?"

"BRILLIANT! Thank God above, I thought you had bird shit for brains..."

The young knight looked at his partner, puzzled. "I have a question. What's so important about that girl, anyway? Yeah, she's beautiful, but she's just a girl, isn't she?"

"I have no idea, but we follow orders, clear? That girl could be anything to those two, and we owe homage and fealty to Vormav, at least. After all, they are the Shrine Knights, were're just the Bethla Guard."

"True, but wasn't she just a citizen of Goug that was abducted? I mean, there was a huge coverup, but.."

The older knight rolled his eyes. "No shit, you think? Yeah, Bethla murdered her parents and dumped their bodies in the river, and murdered some other orphan child and threw her in, too, but it's not like I was involved. I was away on campaign, Wiegraf got to lead that one."

"He did? I thought Wiegraf had no history of taking sieges like that.."

"He did a lot he wasn't proud of. He told me he actually rather liked the girl and her parents, but damned if he wasn't going to follow orders. Like us, he just obeys his freaking orders and leaves his ethics on the sidelines. That is, of course, assuming that you and I want to survive this stupid thing. After all, I've got kids, you know."

"You're married?"

"Like hell I am! I just nailed some other people's wives, no big deal. Still, they're my kids, in all technicality. I'd say there are maybe ten of 'em.." The knight laughed loudly. "It works pretty well."

"Boy, I've heard knights brag about everything except their scads of illegitimate children. It's certainly original."

"Well, I actually kinda like kids. And if I didn't like the end product, at least I like the process." He grinned evilly at his little joke.

"Makes me wonder: did anyone nail that girl?"

"Well, I know I didn't! I'd have to lie if I said I hadn't thought about it, but Vormav said Izlude would 'take care of her,' anyone else caught down there'd have to answer to both of them. Well, I think we all know what that means: 'We catch you down there, you'll be tortured beyond belief. We'll rip your dick off and pull out your intestines inch by inch while running hot spikes under your nails. Of course, that's if you're lucky! If we hate you to begin with, we'll rip off your balls and salt the wound, then we'll tie you down and leave you for dead, give you gangrene and have an infected whore get you sick with every disease she can. Then we'll have a leper lick you, and we'll be damned if you don't die from something. Of course, by the time we get around to checking, you'll be dead from bleeding out of your ass, but who are we to care?' That's what it means."

The younger man shuddered. "Man, that's evil. Makes me wonder if Izlude nailed her. I heard he's never done it before. It'd be quite a sight to see him nail her good."

"He hasn't nailed anyone or anything that I'm aware of, which is unusual for his age. Something about candidacy for Shrine Knighthood and his hand being fine for him. Also made noise about disease, and how gross it is to be in a different maid's bed every day of the week. Pretty unusual, if you ask me."

"Think he might not want women? That would explain a few things."

"I hear that Shrine Knights are sworn to chastity. Well, they aren't allowed women. I heard it's how they get their jollies. However, Vormav had two children by two different mothers before he became a Knight. Meliadoul, his daughter and oldest, was from his first wife, who died after a couple of years, and then his second wife had Izlude. His second wife was a real beauty, from what I heard. She had really dark hair, and these amazing eyes, and a fabulous body. People say she was really strange, didn't speak our language, liked to be by herself, only spoke to Vormav, dressed funny, you know the way people talk."

"What was his first wife like?"

"No big loss, apparently. She was an arrogant dog he married for money. He said she hated sex, too."

The younger man laughed. "No wonder they only had one kid. I'd hate a girl like that. I mean, I could live with her not being pretty, but I think I'd die if I didn't get it because she hated it. I mean, I'd hate to think that I'm getting more now than I will when -and if- I get married. I mean, it's chilling."

"Yeah, that's the kicker. You wonder why I never did anything crazy like that, it's such a liability. What, with kids and everything, it's too much for me. I just like life the way I have it now. I get food, water, sex, and a chance to kill people when I need to. God, what a life! I think if every man knew what a life it was, they'd never settle down, ever!"

The young man chuckled. "Do you think he nailed her, though? I mean, I hear some fabulous stories about it, that he and Jer are together, all sorts of stories like that. I also hear Vormav's been getting really mad at Izlude getting caught in some very interesting trysts in the middle of the night with that prisoner. I mean, everything from raping the kid to some very unusual deals with her."

"You don't say. I heard he traded info on the war and battle tactics for some 'services'. I mean, yeah, it sounds like fun, but for battle tactics? What kind of messed-up deal is that?" He smoothed his graying hair suavely. "I mean, if she's getting nothing useful in return.."

"Well, maybe she is."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Maybe that's what she wants. Well, she's just run away, probably hoping to join the Hokuten or settle in some city. If she got that information to someone who could use it, we could be dead pretty damn soon. Maybe the deal's pretty good for her, you never know."

"Damn, I hate when you do that!" The older knight was perturbed visibly, his jawline set hard, veins slightly bulging in his youthful-looking neck.

"Do what?"

"When you make so much damn sense! Makes me wanna choke you, kid. I mean, you're a real dumbass, some cutup who think he's a soldier, but damn, you make real sense sometimes, really."

The younger man blushed. "Well, thanks. As backhanded as that was..thank you."

"No problem, kid. If that all I have to do to keep you from turning on me, I'm more than happy to butter you up." He laughed.

"Now, how much do you wanna bet Izlude nailed the girl? I'm gonna bet 200gil on it, I think. I mean, how long can be around a girl that looks like that and not get desperate? Besides, no one would ever hear about it. Izlude's become a recluse freak and the girl doesn't talk. I think it'd work out perfect."

"Well, kid, you may have a point, but I still just don't get it. Maybe I'm old fashioned and think espionage is a cheap excuse for sex, or maybe I just can't see that hot little number ever actually talking to a person. She had a number of chances to get herself moved out of the cell, but she refused to defend herself. They'd bring her up, and Vormav would interrogate her, but she wouldn't speak a word. She'd just stare at the floor all defiant-like, Vormav would get so mad at her he could barely see. He'd never let anyone else within earshot while they were in there, and he'd always end up abusing her, hitting her so she would talk. But she never did, which made Vormav incredibly mad."

"Oh, really? So that's how she got all those bruises..." He slapped himself on the forehead. "I should have figured it out!"

"Well, I just think it's funny that the only person who can make the old guy lose his temper anymore is a young girl. It's pretty damn ironic, he puts up with everyone else's shit, but that girl just completely gorks the old bastard out. She is a bit creepy, though, real quiet."

"Yeah, she is, real dark and mysterious....nice body, though, very nice body. Little small up top, I guess, but nobody's perfect."

"Are breasts the only thing you care about, kid?"

The boy blushed. "Not the only thing, sir."

"All you boys are the same. As long as it can pretend it's female, you'll nail it without a second thought. Sad, sad kids..."

"Well, we make do, and probably get more than you do, so I wouldn't complain."

" It's none of my business. It's also getting as cold as hell out here. I say we get going."

The chocobos grunted and made other noises of protest as the forced to plod back through the rapidly accumualting snow. It was slow going, for now they were heading into the cold, driving wind, but they left none too rapidly for the girl. As soons as they were gone, she sighed. She was glad to have them gone, the reason now being mostly that she was apalled at the coarse language they frequented their conversations with. Izlude never spoke that way, so it was a shock to hear it so plainly.

"They do have a point, it certainly will get colder tonight, and I can barely move as it is. If it gets any colder, I'm afraid they won't find much left. Dreadful cold wouldn't be so bad if I was wearing something substantial. But no, this fabric lacks any ability to contain body heat, which is much to my disadvantage. Boy, it's dark..." she said softly. Conjuring a small ball of light without a second thought, she found the underside of the tree actually accomodating.

Accomodating, of course, except for the pair of piercing red eyes staring back at her.

She gasped, scared so badly she lost her control and the tiny orb flickered into darkness again. Hands shaking, she focused again. No human had ever actually seen her do this, and she just had to know what the red eyes glaring at her belonged to. The orb threw light onto the red-eyed creature, who, for all of its fury and horror...

..was little more than a rudely-awoken Red Chocobo.

(Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry! Are you alright?) She had found animals actually responded rather well when addressed in this manner.

(I'm fine, Young One, just fine. May I inquire if you, perhaps, have a problem?) A female Red Chocobo, obviously. Males were not nearly so accomodating in similar positions.

(Well, I believe I do. You see, those men...)

(Those ones just making that awful racket, you mean? Silly human men...)

The girl nodded. (Those men making a racket, they're after me. I was a prisoner, and I escsaped with the help of a friend, and now they wish to either return to me to my cell or kill me. I'm afraid I can't tell which.)

(You look young for a prisoner.) The bird eyed her a bit.

(Well, I am young, if you must know. I don't know for sure, but they say I'm sixteen now...I back-calculated life events from there, but..)

(How awful for you. Are you cold?)

The girl pulled her knees up to her chest and nodded. The bird shuffled towards her, keeping its head down. The girl laid down on the ground, and the bird covered her with a wing. (Does that help you?)

(Lovely, thank you very much. It's such a cold night...)

(Indeed, it is. So, where are you from, Young One?)

(Hither and yon. Goug, Gariland, Warjilis, Dorter....but, most recently, from Bethla Garrison. A human prison.)

(A prison? Oh, my...and how long have my kind interested you?)

The girl smiled slightly. (For as long as I can remember. I guess I've always had a knack for communicating with everyone. You're all very kind.)

(You should rest, Youg One, just rest. We can talk more when the sun rises. Just rest for now....)

The girl sat on the hardwood floor, marvelling at the beautiful pattern the brilliant summer sunlight made along the grain. She smiled, a very pretty smile, and tugged on the man's sleeve. "Papa, what are you thinking about?"

The man snapped back to reality after a second. "Oh, Lucia, it's nothing. I'm just thinking. I mean, it's nothing you need to worry about. So, what did you learn?"

"You can't change the subject, Papa. You're thinking about your son, your real son..." She sounded sad and very distracted and guilty. "I can tell."

The man nodded pensively, and the girl watched the sunlight streaming through the window sparkle along his immaculate blonde hair. His face was very balanced and seemed perfect to the girl, who overlooked the slight lines his many years had inflicted upon him. She had always overlooked these, and found that the man was very handsome even if she had included those. His dark eyes scanned the relic on the table ruthlessly, looking for some minute flaw in the aging piece so that he could purchase it for much less than it was being sold for. "Yes,I am. But don't act like you're here to replace him, Lucia. You both have a place in my heart. So, do you know what this piece is?" He held the relic out to her.

The carving was made of an unknown mineral, a creamy-colored opaque stone. The stone was carved into an elaborate statue about at tall as her forearm. It was a woman, who was clothed in a shirt, pants, and a cloak over it. Her hair flowed almost to her ankles, and was tied back with only some sort of woven headband by the ears. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were clasped together close to her chest. Her lips were pursed into what looked like a slight pout, and her head was tilted back slightly. "It's a statue, Papa. Is it of the Old Ones?"

"Yes, the Old Ones carved this. We believe the girl is probably some sort of nobility, but we'll never know. I did notice that the girl is armed. Look." He pointed to a small ridge almost completely concealed by the cloak. "It's a holster, and it looks a lot like yours."

"They had guns, Papa?" She looked at the statue curiously.

"They made the gun you have right now," he said, laughing softly. "They made almost everything I have lying around this house, but the guns were particularly ingenious. We had never seen anything like it, you should have seen my face when I uncovered the very first one in the ruins. I managed to figure out how it worked, and I began reconditioning the ones we found. It took a long time to fix the one I gave you because it was so much smaller, more precise and I had to try and replace parts while maintaining its amazing accuracy. It took a lot of work, and I was just going to sell it until you came along. My son said it was too small, and he took one I had fixed that was larger. So, Arc and Shey took you in, and introduced us, and I just knew you'd be able to use it. Do you like it?"

She actually pulled the ivory-handled silver gun from its holster and turned it over in her delicate hands. The gun seemed perfectly suited to her and, despite what many people would have thought about giving a gun to a young girl, he knew she was responsible and, if truth be know, an astoundingly good shot. People in Goug never seemed phased by it, for their sons had guns when they turned fourteen, so a young girl of eight with a holster on her waist was slightly distanced from the normal, but it was far from unheard of in Goug. Well, it was still unheard of, but much less suspicious in Goug than in a larger town, like Gariland or Warjilis. "Yes, Papa, but they won't let me practice in the city; they said I have to go out in the fields, with you, and be very careful. They said they won't stand for me being careless with it, and if I get caught doing something I shouldn't with it, they'll take it from me."

"And do you think these terms are fair?" He was obviously concerned. They had never been this strict before, and it seemed unusual.

"I think they need to trust me a bit more, because I have been incredibly careful so far. They've been really worried as of late about everything I do. Why is that?" This was unusual talk for a girl her age, who normally agreed with whatever was asked of her wholeheartedly. "It doesn't seem rational."

He laughed. "My little girl, so full of reason. I hear some knights have been asking about adopted children with behavior problems. I really don' t know for sure, but they're going on another trip soon, so we'll have plenty of time to practice."

"That'll be fun! I really do love the gift, Papa, I love it a whole lot. I love it almost as much as I love.....you."

He looked as though he were about to cry. "Oh, Lucia, you've been such wonderful company here! I always liked being able to teach people about what I do, and you're always so curious. I think you'd really have a good life as an Engineer with my son and myself. I think we'd be a lovely little family."

She looked at him. "Did you tell your son about me?"

"No, not yet, I haven't been able to contact him. You would like him, though, he's very much like you."

"Papa, will we always be together?"

He smiled, the fine lines deepening as he did so. "I hope so, Lucia, I hope so."

The girl awoke with a start, clearly upset. The dream had been...exactly as that day had been so long ago. She didn't even remember very much about that day, and yet here it was, all laid out before her in her mind. She looked up the trunk of the tree and sighed softly. "It was so long ago," she said softly, "so very long ago when I was last called by that name. Much has happened since then. I do remember that day now, though, as clearly as I did when I was with Wiegraf, maybe even more so."

(What are you thinking about, Young One? Is seems to be troubling you greatly.)

The girl jumped slightly, and noticed it was nearly light. (It's nothing, it's nothing too serious. I'm just suddenly remembering it all so clearly.)

(What is 'it', Young One? What do you remember?)

(I suddenly remember, as though I should have never forgotten,) she said softly, ( my last days of true freedom.)

Chapter III

Delita Hyral shifted slightly in the worn leather saddle, trying to bring feeling back into his left foot. It was cold out, and the snow from the terrible storm a week ago, during which -if the rumors were true- a deadly prisoner escaped from Bethla Garrison, the Impregnable Fortress. The chocobo grunted slightly as he pulled his crossbow into a more comfortable position on his shoulder and scanned the snowy forest around him. He had come out here to hunt, but was having a terrible time. All the animals were still hidden from the storm, and he basically had to admit defeat. He sighed and spurred his mount on, hoping to make his way back before it got any colder.

It was then that he saw it. The red chocobo plodded past Delita, carrying a piece of food in its mouth. Delita watched it, puzzled, finally remembering why he had never see such a sight before. Chocobos ate whatever food was in front of them at that moment, not caring where they ate. The only time they carried food was when they had hatchlings, and that only occurred in the warmer months. Curious, he watched the chocobo go under the tree near him, and he dismounted and followed.

The tree had low, ground-sweeping boughs which had large drifts of snow weighing them down. The chocobo had pushed a bough out of the way, and Delita peered under the lifted bough. There was a rush of fairly warm air that escaped, and he saw her. Her hair was black and trailed down almost to her knees, with part of it done up in a very frost-filled and slightly sloppy bun on top of her head, and her skin was a pale color. He turned her onto her back, and saw that she was unconscious. He worried about the girl, and he took of his officer's coat, wrapped her in it, placed her on the chocobo, and got on his mount behind her and rode off. The chocobo looked fondly at the girl for a second, then ate the food. (No sense it letting it go to waste,) she thought as she ate.

Ramza Beoulve sat by the window, watching the fireplace intently. He was waiting for Delita to return, while enjoying the bustle of the squires that they had running around. Suddenly, Rafa sat down next to him. He smiled at her, and then turned back to the fire.

"Ramza, what are you thinking about?"

Ramza looked at the Heaven Knight for a second. "Just some things that have been bothering me. Nothing that you should worry about."

Rafa looked up at him. "You've been like this for far too long, it's not healthy. You seem incredibly tense, it's never good." Damn, she was keen! She looked out the window for a moment, then back at him. "Are you worried about Delita? He's fine, he's our best marksman with a crossbow, and he's careful. In fact, I think I hear him now."

This was no less than eerily accurate. Ramza watched Delita force his mount up a snowdrift at breakneck speed, grab a bundle in his officer's jacket, tell a squire to go take care of his chocobo, and run, after a moment of fumbling outside the door, into the barracks. His cheeks were ruddy from the stinging wind, and he held his head down while he gasped for air. "Ramza, I need Agrias. Where is she?" he said in a short series of panting breaths.

Ramza looked at him blankly. "What do you need?"

Delita looked him in the eye, hardly acknowledging the slightly joking tone his friend has taken. He laid his coat and its contents down on the table, and pulled the coat away from the girl. "This is what I need her for. I found this girl out in the snow. She's in bad shape, and I'm not sure what to do."

Ramza nodded, and Rafa went to seek the mavenly Holy Knight. "Boy, she looks awful young," Ramza noted almost to himself. "I wonder why she's out by herself."
Delita looked up as Rafa opened the door, with Agrias in tow. Agrias looked stoic as always, her jawline set a little too hard for her feminine face, but her eyes brimmed with compassion as she looked at the girl. Instantly, she expressed her terribly immense compassion and admiration for human life in a series of brutally brusque commands. "You, go get your cot and bring it here, now!" The squire jumped and ran towards his room, clearly shaken. "You, bring me all of your blankets!" The squire also ran towards his room. Agrias looked the girl over with a careful hand, then sighed.

Delita stood back, nerves on edge. "Is she going to be okay?"

"Well, she looks malnourished and a little beaten up. Once we warm her up and let her rest for a while, she should be fine. That is, assuming those squires are actually moving." The squires piled in, carrying their loads swiftly. "Put the cot in front of the fire, and hurry up this time!" The young men hurriedly assembled a decently-made bed in front of the fire, and Agrias looked it over with her usual unfalteringly precise glance and nodded to Delita.

Delita looked down at the girl with infinite care, and picked her up gently. The tenderness her was showing her was palpable, and Agrias and Ramza watched, breathless. Delita hadn't seemed to care about anything since the death of his only sister at the hands of a supposed comrade, but he certainly seemed worried about this girl. He laid her gently in the bed and tucked the covers in around her. Whispering something under his breath, he nodded to Ramza. "Thanks for your help," he said softly. "Both of you."

Agrias stoked the fire and nodded. "It's my pleasure, Delita. How did you find her? She's not too badly wounded, she must have been sheltered from the storm somewhat."

Delita nodded slightly. "She was out of the storm , and she had been out there a while."

Ramza smirked roguishly as walked towards the door, while Rafa walked over to Delita and smiled. "That was a wonderful thing you did for that young girl. I know many people who never would have taken the time. What made you decide to?"

Delita shrugged. "Well, I'd never leave a person there to begin with, but she was so young and all alone. Also, I don't know if you noticed, or if it had any effect on my decision, but...."

"But...?"

Delita almost couldn't say it. "She looks like my sister, so much like Teta, it's eerie."

Rafa looked over her shoulder at the girl, now bundled throughly in front of the fire. "I wouldn't know, but I'll take your word for it." She turned to leave.

"Rafa, wait." Delita swallowed hard, wondering what made him tell her this. "Do you remember that story about the prisoner escaping from Bethla?"

Rafa nodded. "Yes, I did hear that story. Why?"

Delita looked at the girl. "Well, that's her."

"What? What makes you think that?"

"Well, she was wearing a Bethla prisoner's uniform when I found her, and her hair's done up."

"Her hair..?"

He shrugged. "Where else would you hide things in prison? They strip you and search you when you come in, and the rooms are bare."

"True, but how would you get the items past the search?"

He dismissed the question with the wave of a hand. "You bribe guards, which is a lot harder when you're male. All you can give them is money."

Rafa looked away, knowing full well what the implications of that were. "You're fairly certain it's her, are you?"

"I am. I also know what it will mean if I'm right."

"That she'll be followed?"

He nodded. "They won't stop until they have her again."

"That's terrible! Do the others know?"

"No, telling them is a bad idea. Some of them would just as gladly sell her out to get rid of her as take care of her. I wouldn't have told you if I didn't trust you to keep this information to yourself. Don't tell your brother, alright?"

She shook her head. "Of course I won't tell Malak, I know exactly what he'd do in this case. He'd say that he refuses to take care of a criminal, and then he would get moody if I told him otherwise. Then, he'd try and tell them through secretive means, and, if that didn't work, he'd kill her for sure. Are we even sure she was guilty of anything? Bethla has become a house for suspected heretics, you know."

"You're right, I haven't a clue what she's guilty of. This wasn't very smart of me, was it?" Delita looked very helpless and scared just then. "She could be a killer, for all I know."

"We'll deal with that when the time comes. I honestly don't think the crime was too heinous, or else they'd have killed her. She looks like she's in fairly good shape, so she might possibly be a heretic, or a political prisoner..."

"Or maybe she has something they want." Delita looked at the girl with defiance in his eyes. "It doesn't matter, because I'm going to protect her, no matter what. They're not going to hurt her again." He looked at Rafa and smiled. "And you can make that a promise."

"Oh, I will. You're going to have to tell her that, though. She's the one who has to know, not me."

Delita blushed. "Well, I'm going to need some help, you know. I have the feeling we'll have to leave as soon as she's in top condition. Maybe sooner than that, but I hope not."

Agrias returned not a moment later, with Ramza and others in tow. "Delita, it's almost dinnertime, and it'll be dark soon. We have to decided who-"

"I will," Delita answered, cutting her off. "I slept really well last night, and I-" He suddenly trailed off, knowing no answer would lessen the embarrassment of it. He had volunteered to stay up all night with her, and he was happy with it. After all, he cared about her well-being and Ramza had to stay awake and guard, so he could never watch the door and the girl at the same time. Agrias needed the sleep, and he no one else there knew enough to volunteer. He smiled, satisfied.

Malak looked across the room. "Oh, my, we have a guest. Rafa, who might she be?"

Rafa bit her lip. "Delita found her in the snow, we don't know who she is."

"Oh, so we just take in street trash now? Delita, I thought you had better morals than that."
Delita's shoulders tensed. "How would you know? You don't even know what morals are!"

"Delita, Malak, please..." Rafa said softly, standing between them.

"Stay out of my way, Sister, I have to deal with this..." Malak commanded.

"No! I won't let you two, stop it!"

"I order you to stand down, Rafa," Malak said. "As you brother, I command it."

Delita reached for his sword subconsciously. "Malak, I don't wish to fight you, but I won't allow you to hurt my guest or your sister, seeing as how you are currently subordinate to each."

Malak glanced at the girl and snorted. "Subordinate to that? How do you figure that?"

"For as long as she is with us, she is a Commander," Delita said, "equal to myself in status. You will treat her as such. Ramza, is this acceptable?"

Ramza looked at Delita knowingly. "It sounds fine. Just remember where you are, Malak, and you'll be fine. Wouldn't making her a Commander put only one rank below Agrias and myself?"

"I believe so, Ramza. Even if this is true, it does not bother me," Agrias responded. "After all, that girl will need to ride with us where we can keep an eye on her anyway. We really don't know where she came from or who she is."

Delita looked at the floor, hoping the topic wouldn't revolve around the girl's history. "Actually, I have an idea where she's from."

"Delita, I thought you weren't-" Rafa started.

"I have to," Delita explained, "because telling them will help more than hurt. Do you all know what this is?" He held up a strip of coarse white linen, and handed into Agrias. She ran her hands along the fabric, winced, then passed it to Ramza, who did the same. The strip of linen was passed to Rafa, Malak, and the squires. "What is the fabric like?"

Ramza winced. "Rough, unpleasant, agonizing....it's not used on people, is it?"

"It has to be used on vegetables. That fabric would be torture to wear, no matter who you are," Agrias noted.

"It's terrible..people wear this?" Rafa asked.

"It seems rather useless," Malak said, "to be so stong and yet so inhospitable."

"Really? It reminds me of you, Brother," Rafa said without a hint of jest in her voice.

Delita cleared his throat. "That fabric is very much used on people, for your information."

"How on earth? I know people in the slums would be wearing better than this, far better..." Ramza said.

"This fabric was made exclusively to be worn, in fact," Delita said. "This fabric is from the uniform of a Bethla Garrison prisoner."

"Well, I wonder how you go a hold of it," Malak mused.

Delita set his jawline a bit harder, an insurance policy to prevent him cleaving the man's skull open. Or, as he thought, the boy's skull. Malak was their age, but acted much younger, as anyone who visited soon found out. Many couldn't even fathom tolerating him the way Delita did. He couldn't either, but Rafa was a friend of his, and he wouldn't hurt her brother unless she insisted on it. Thus, he was left finding some way to tolerate him without decapitating him. Delita smirked, picturing the blunted stump of his neck spurting blood. "It was hers," he said casually, pointing at the girl.

Ramza looked worried. "Hers? It was hers? If you knew she was from Bethla....Delita, I respect your decision and your ethics immensely, you're a better person than most, but how are we going to get her out of here? Bethla must know we're the only place she could have gone within a reasonable distance. Could you possibly have made a more dangerous decision on our behalf?"

Delita sighed. "Ramza, we have a roof over our heads, food, nice warm beds, everything. This girl had nothing at all. Besides, you seem to forget," he added with a defiant glance out the window. "We can fight them. We can repel them, I'm sure of it. Izlude's probably the best tactician they have, and it's doubtful they'd send him. We have the advantage, and sending them here to get us would be suicide. Besides, we're leaving for Dorter soon, aren't we?"

"Yes, but they'd have blockades up by then," Agrias said.

"Doesn't matter, I'm sure we can keep one step ahead of them," Delita said. "We're tacticians, remember?"

"If I could get some things, I'd could definitely be able to help her," Rafa said. "Goland sells the items I need, and they're not that costly. They would really help. I doubt they'd recognize her after that."

"Sounds good, we'll stop in Goland and pick up what you need," Ramza said, obviously getting into the spirit. He really just couldn't feel bad at all, couldn't be worried, couldn't be scared, so he thrived off of Delita's enthusiasm.

Delita nodded. "So, I'm watching her and he's watching the door. It sounds just fine to me. Should we eat?"

"Sounds wonderful. Mustadio should be returning with his father tomorrow, shouldn't he?" Agrias asked.

"I believe so, they'd be here now if Vormav hadn't been blockading every cargo ship just to make sure nothing is being produced anywhere near here. He's so damn worried that we're building vast weapons and that we're going to kill him that he won't even let an engineer through with his father without a big production. They're paranoid." Ramza was clearly amused and annoyed by the idea.

Agrias nodded. "True, but they have every reason to be paranoid. After all, we've managed to stifle every attempt they've made on the Zodiac Stones and the world. Besrodio and Mustadio happen to be quite useful to either side, and I see no reason to be surprised that they're going to stop them as they travel. They should be here soon, though. They can't block their travel more than a day without good reason. If they did, the two of them would leave anyway."

"Absolutely," Delita added, "because those two are not about to be delayed by anyone. They might be able to tell us where our guest is from."

"Perhaps," Agrias said, "and it would be interesting either way. If that's the fugitive Bethla is looking for, the other rumors are true about her. They say the fugitive was orginally from Goug, and.."

"Do you think it's possible that Mustadio and Besrodio might know her? If they do, that would be very much in our favor. The more we know about her past, the easier it would be to help her," Rafa said. "After all, we know nothing right now, even a name would help."

Malak laughed bitterly. "And you honestly think that you can protect her? What makes you think that we honestly want to deal with some Bethla prisoner scum?"

"You don't have a choice," Agrias said, "because we're telling you what we are doing. You have no say in this, we already established that, and you'll just have to keep your mouth shut and do what we tell you. Is that perfectly clear?"

"It should be," Ramza warned. "If not, we'll make sure you remember. Delita, Agrias, Besrodio, Mustadio, and myself are the leaders here. We decide what goes on. That girl is our responsibility, and also a superior of yours and a member of our dealings, much more so than yourself. As far as I'm concerned, you're not even as involved as a squire in this matter."

"Brother, this is none of your business anymore, they've said so. Please go," Rafa pleaded, "before something bad happens."

Malak sneered. "Sister, don't patronize me. I plan on making my opinions known."

Delita could take no more. Shifting his weight, he tackled Malak to the floor in a rush of anger. Malak, facing his sister and not Delita, was unable to see, and he began thrashing and screaming obscenities. Delita, kneeling beside him, pinning his arms to his sides, unsheathed his Mythril Dagger and held it against the back of Malak's neck. "Listen to me, you little scum-sucking little weasel. Yes, I said scum-sucking weasel. I could say much worse, but Agrias and your dear sister are present. I want to make something incredibly clear to you: I don't want you anywhere near her, clear? If I catch you within arm's reach of that girl, you will be dead. Don't think it would give me pause, it wouldn't. I will stab your evil excuse for a brain out of your goddamn skull without hesitation. Am I making myself absolutely clear?" He picked Malak's head up for a second, then shoved roughly against the floor again with a very loud and very satisfying sound. "Am I making myself clear? Answer me!"

"Y-yes..." Malak answered, voice muffled by the hardwood floor a mere quarter inch from his face. His entire face was throbbing from its sudden and violent contact with the floor, courtesy of Delita's aggrivation, and the dagger at the back of his neck was not making him feel comfortable. "Yes, I understand."

Delita sighed, throughtly contented with himself. He slowly stood up and walked back towards Ramza. He turned and, looked Rafa in the eye, he bowed deeply. "I am truly sorry for that. You understand, though, don't you?"

Malak glared at her and she averted her eyes, but nodded very slightly in her direction. Delita eyed the pair neutrally, and then watched Malak drag Rafa bodily into the adjacent room.

Agrias cleared her throat. "As I believe I was saying, and, even if I wasn't," she started, "I would go so far as to say we're definitely going to have to be ready to move out in a day or two. I suggest the squires, knights-everyone but the three of us, Mustadio, and Besrodio-get ready to move out. Get our wares packed and be ready to get out as soon as we can. In fact, get a wizard ready."

"A wizard?"

"We need to make the place look like it burned down. We need to summon some zombies and have them simulate dead bodies, they'll do it. They hate the people who killed them as much as we do. Then, we have to set the place on fire. That means that we need to get everything. Clear?"

Ramza nodded. "But why would we be so drastic?"

Delita stifled a laugh. "Ramza, are you telling me that you haven't figured this out yet? This girl is a fugitive from Bethla Garrison. Bethla Garrison is the 'impregnable fortress'. Therefore, this girl will be valuable as an example, if nothing else."

"Besides," Agrias added without missing a beat, "that girl looks incredibly healthy for a prisoner. They're obviously keeping her alive for a reason, which means they will pursue her, no matter what the cost." She looked out the small window. "It will be dark soon, you two. I say we eat, then we can tell them our brilliant idea, and then I can sleep. Don't forget, you two are on guard duty tonight."

"How could we? You won't let us," Delita said with a smirk. "Besides, we can handle it."

"I know you can. I don't doubt it for a second."

Delita was standing on the cliff, looking into the crevasse in front of him. The wind whirled up from the canyon, and he found himself shielding his face. The sun was low in the sky, but there was no chill in the air. In fact, the air was very warm, and snow began falling softly. He raised his eyes to the sky slowly, and was almost blinded by the light.

The light displayed a humanlike figure in the sky above and ahead of him. Little more than a silhouette was showing. "Where am I?" Delita shouted to the figure, the sky, the light, whoever would answer him. The light from behind the figure faded slowly to dimness, and the light hovered above its head. Delita gasped,horrified.

The figure was human, or so it seemed, with black hair and a keenly muscular build. The head was bent down,obscuring the face, the arms hung down at the sides and clutched a pair of black blades. The bare chest gleamed with sweat, and then Delita noticed it: a large metal pike protruded from his chest. The man should have been dead, and yet he was alive and seemed very much healthy. "Delita Hyral, friend of Beoulve, I have heard your cry. However, I wish you to know the full weight of your decision. This is not a deterrent, for I know exactly where you stand now. I stood in the exact same position so many years ago that no human would remember it and no history recorded it. I insist that you know exactly what this will require of you and your allies. Are you prepared?"

"Are you an angel?" How childish he sounded, he though, asking a stupid quesion.

"Angel?" The creature made a sound like a laugh. "Far from it, in fact. Merely another creature haunting the realm. As I asked, are you prepared?"

Delita nodded gravely.

"This girl, it matters not whether she is man or beast or angel, for whatever she is, she is before you. Clear? It should matter not to you what she is, for she is human, very much human, but if she were anything else, it should have no bearing."

"Of course, I understand totally."

The being nodded gracefully. "However, as you know, she is being pursued."

"Whatever for?"

The being sighed. "It is of no major importance. You will have to protect her, you know."

"I realized that."

The being truly did laugh, and it was both melodic and terrible. "I am assured that you were aware of that. However, it is not as easy as it seems. She is a regular firebrand, you know."

"Oh, she is?"

"Fiercely independent, just like her father. I can tell you now, though. You may have go give up something else you care about for her. Can you take that risk?"

"I will."

"Are you certain? This may be something quite important to you."

"I'm certain."

"You will be her guardian, Delita, and your fate will be tied to hers, for better and worse. Her life will be in your hands alone."

"I agree."

"Your allies will help you. Agrias has vowed her knowledge and her blade, Ramza his fortitude and influence, Rafa her patience and care. They have all agreed to assist you and the girl. However, you position is as tenuous as mine was so very long ago."

"I assure you, though, that if you desire that girl to live, I will make it my duty."

It seemed to smile with its silky voice. "So good to hear, Delita. Keep your promise to me, but moreover, keep your promise to her. Now, swear it..."

The wind roared from the canyon, and lightning seared the dark sky

"I swear to you, stable Earth, I will be her shield and home as you are my own

I swear to you, raging Fire, I will destroy anything in my path

I swear to you, calming Water, I will be her protection

I swear to you, omnipresent Air, I will always be with her

Guiding Sun, I will lead her

Blessed Moon, hold her safe and near to me

Fiercest Storm, give my blade sacred power

Darkest Shadow, keep my enemies at bay

Most Blessed God, keep me close to you

I swear to all of you, forces of all earth and sky, I swear my eternal fidelity to this girl

And to you though my completion"

"Oh, most impressive. I give you my blessing, Child of Earth. I will be watching all of you from where I can. Farewell, Delita Hyral, Blessed Child. And so that you can prepare..."

"Yes?"

"Her pursuers will be in force by tomorrow; be ready to leave. Be ready tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"By midday. Wake the household when I depart, and get ready to leave. Now, go...."

A flash of light, and the creature was gone.

Chapter IV

Ramza stared at Delita, shocked to the bone. It was still very much dark out, he noted as he stared out the window, with the sky still inky and dense like a rich velvet, with those brilliant little stars mere points of twinkling light. He wasn't dressed for something like this, having abandoned his shirt long ago. Now, with the girls he respected so much in the same room as him again, he was regretting it. "What did you get them up for again, Delita? Why were you sleeping?" he mumbled, more from stress than exhaustion. This was just too much to believe.

"As I told you before," he started, "I can assure you all that, without a hesitation or a doubt, the army will be after her. Not only that, they will be here, in force, today at noon. We must leave before then."

Rafa looked at him, puzzled. "But, how do you know this?"

He sighed softly. "I would think you would all be more worried about what would happen if I was right than if I was wrong. The point is, shouldn't we be preparing for this attack? Whether it's tomorrow or not for weeks, I think being ready to leave is essential. We won't stand a chance against the sheer numbers they could mobilize against us, Ramza, and you know that for a fact."

"I've been in Bethla Garrison, and I know how many soldiers they have, all totally prepared to mobilize within hours. Not days, hours," Ramza said softly. "But we don't know how soon they'll arrive."

Agrias nodded. "Ramza, we have to take this seriously. Bethla Garrison wants this girl for whatever reason, and we're an obstacle, nothing more. They will crush us mercilessly, and you must know that."

Ramza looked at them. "Well, I never said I didn't take this seriously. In fact, I was planning on getting us ready today as you suggested. Well, I say we get going, then. Delita, why don't you stay with her?"

Delita knew exactly what he meant. "If you order me to, I will. I shall see you all later, then."

He walked into the room in which she still slept. He smiled, knowing that this girl was, at least for now, totally oblivious to the commotion she was causing and to the potential fate of herself and her newfound allies. He touched her jet-black hair tenderly, noting its silky texture as he heard the squires being forcibly dragged out their beds in the barracks upstairs. He closed his eyes briefly. "You're a pawn, Little One, and I'm not sure how long I can protect you."

(But you promised her, Delita, and your god will look on with shame upon you for your lies) It was the same voice in his dream last night. Now, it was vivdly real, the silken voice slinking in his brain as though it had been whispered right into his head.

"But, I don't think we can.." he said softly.

(..And you would go back on your promise for want of strength? You and your allies are most powerful, and you power is now committed to her safety. I assure you, Delita Hyral, that you will not be alone. The thunder god, a lost man in raiment of a foreigner, a man of the night, and a child will assist you. You must keep her safe, you have sworn your fealty to her life in front of the gods of others and the god you believe in. Backing out would be damning.)

"You're very good. Who are you? The one from my dream?"

(Indeed, and you are not crazy. I assure you of my existance in the realm of the fleshless.)

"Why do you care what happens to her?"

(I was in a similar position a long time ago, and I wish to push you in the direction I was too weak to follow.)

Delita nodded. "I see. Am I choosing the right path?"

(Either path is right in someone's eyes. You see it as right, and so it is.)

"Indeed. Thank you."

(Protecting that girl is a vast task, I wish you luck and thank you; if you succeed, you will do more than you will ever know. Take care, be cautious, follow your heart and your spirit. You are cast of blood which will find the way for you.) The presence disappeared, and Delita knew he was once again alone.

"Delita, we need your help for a minute," Rafa called to him from the hallway. "Come here, please."

"Coming! Hm, 'cast of blood that can find the way'...what did he mean by that?"

Rafa walked to the door, nearly knocking him over. She was carrying a massive box which dwarfed her frame. "I need you to help me put the gear on the chocobos."

"Wasn't Malak going to help you?"

"He's not here now. I haven't seen Malak in hours, since I went to bed."

Delita bit his lip. "Damn that little backstabber! He's going to turn her in, isn't he? I'm going to kill him with my bare hands when I see him next."

Rafa smiled sweetly. "You're assuming," she said with the malice becoming more apparent, "that I don't find him first."

Jerchai was almost running up the elegant hall, something the hall wasn't condusive to. This was a hallway in which you walked reverently, savoring each plushly elegant sight. Jerchai, however, was on an assignment. Vormav was quite upset with his son, again, and wanted to talk to him. This wording alone connoted a beating in Jer's mind, but he continued towards the particular room of Bethla Garrison which he had to reach promptly: Izlude's room. He ran up the hall, and up the stair to the next floor. He knocked on the door, and, hearing no movement within, opened the door himself. He gasped.

Izlude's clothing littered the floor carelessly, and his window was open despite the snow on the ground outside. His bedlinens were scattered across the floor, as were all the possessions he owned. He turned the corner, and found Izlude, sitting on his bed, naked. His entire body was covered in sweat, and he trembled. Knowing his friend's passion for being polished and presentable at all times, this behavior was unusual. "Izlude, what's wrong?"

"She's gone......she's gone...." Izlude said softly, looking up at Jer. "She's no longer here, Jer."

Jer nodded. "Yes, she escaped. Your father wishes to speak to you about that."

"I don't want to."

Jerchai shook his head. "You father's not asking, he's demanding your presence. The Hell Knight also has news about her."

"Sabia? He does?" He seemed very sick, that much was apparent. He stood up slowly.

"Apparetly. You know very well you can't go out like that." He picked up some clothing that would compose a fairly polished outfit. "Where's your armor? And your sword?"

Izlude shrugged. "They're not here."

"Well, where are they?"

"Don't know." The more Izlude spoke, Jer noticed that his speech was highly erratic. It was disturbing to him.

"Well, it doesn't matter, I would think," he said, watching Izlude dress. He didn't see anything wrong with standing there, since they had been friends for several years. Jer's father had sent him to Bethla to be a squire when he was young, and he met Izlude. They bonded instantly, despite their personality conflicts. "After all, you're just in audience with Vormav."

"Yeah..." Izlude slowly put an old cloak on. Nothing, Jer noticed, was even remotely nice. Izlude always had new clothes, and none of them were lying on the floor. He shrugged and ushered Izlude into the opulent study, where his father paced.

Vormav looked up at his bedraggled son and scowled. "You look like hell."

"I don't feel well," Izlude said. "What's this about?"

His father shook with rage as he paced near his son. With a casual backhand, Izlude was knocked to the floor. "You know very well what this is about! This is about following my orders! What happened to her?"

"Sabia?" Izlude asked.

"Whatever you call that harlot we had locked up! She escaped, and you were the last one to see her. Where did she go?"

"I don't know." Izlude slowly and gingerly pulled himself to his feet. "She never said a word about it."

"Well, all I know is my greatest lead has fled into the woods, the heretic is dead, and my son is a conspiritor." The words were cold and hard, and Izlude shivered.

"The monk is dead, and Sabia's gone. But what of the knights who lost their lives in your service?"

Vormav laughed. "As if I cared about them! Those brainless killers are easily replaced. That girl and that monk were rare, real pearls amongst the dung."

Jechai shook his head. "What are you saying, sir?"

Vormav glared at him. "Jer, keep your mouth shut and get going. If you pretend this never happened, I'll make you a Heavenly Knight." Heavenly Knight? Jer was reeling. Oh, goodness, how he wanted to be an important knight, to show his father how talented he was. He bowed and wandered out silently.

Izlude, despite his ill state, braced himself as best he could. "What are you talking about?"

"You never had a clue as to why we took her, did you?" He laughed, tossing his head arrogantly. "Of course you wouldn't, you didn't get my foresight. That girl is a heretic and now she's a murderer, too."

"She is not a heretic! How could she be? She's never been exposed to our religion!" Izlude laid a hand on the banister on his right side, shifting much of his weight onto it.

"She denounced our religion, and she's committed to that magic the Church condones. She never told you that?" He looked at the five knights left. "Everyone is dismissed except for Izlude and Malak. Return to your quarters at once." He waited for them to leave, then laughed. "Malak, what do you have to tell me?"

Malak grinned. "Sir, I found the girl. Delita Hyral found her in the snow, and they plan to take her with them. They're at the barracks not too far from here, she made it halfway on her own."

Vormav's eyes lit up. "She's alive? Oh, wonderful! We'll mobilize and get her tomorrow." The news was nothing new to Izlude, as much as the gloating glance from his father was supposed to puctuate news. Izlude could sense her vaguely, nagging at the corner of her mind. She had been in the snow last night, he had dreamt of it, and he had woken in the middle of the night with his as cold as ice. He stuggled to hold himself upright against the fatigue and watched Malak intently.

Malak shook his head. "There's no reason to hurry, My Lord. Ramza isn't leaving until the engineers from Goug get there, which, because of your blockade, will delay them indefinitely. We may take our time, seeing as how they won't notice I'm gone until daybreak." He chuckled with an arrogant smile as he looked at Izlude from the balcony. "I'm so sorry her escape plan was futile, I really am. After all, she'll be the cause of so much of your pain."

"Thank you, Malak, you're relieved."

"Pardon, My Lord?"

"Get going."

"Yes, My Lord" Malak walked to the door, sneered in Izlude's direction, and shut the door behind him as he left.

Izlude was emboldened. "Father, what are you doing? You plan on mobilizing to kill her?"

"Kill her? You misunderstand. I'm not going to kill her. I'm merely going to use her."

"Use her? Use her for what?" Izlude reached for his sword reflexively, but he didn't have it with him.

"Oh, my dear boy, must I explain everything? The Prophecy!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"The Prophecy, Izlude, is that a demon will destroy the church."

"I know that!"

"Well, the demon will be in the form of a human."

"Are you saying she's the demon?" Izlude was getting sicker by the minute.

"Of course not, you dunce. I'm ashamed to say you're my son sometimes. You have the brains of a heap of gravel. I'm saying she could tell us who the demon is."

"And after she did, why didn't you let her go?"

"You moron, she refused to tell me anything. I'd think she didn't speak, except that, if she didn't, how could you spend so much time with her? You see, I would have given up on my hunch long ago if not for you."

"Damn you, you bastard! She doesn't know anything!"

"Tsk, tsk, how dare you speak to me like that! And I trust that she knows something she's not telling me. I wonder, would she speak if your life was on the line? Hmm, I may try that."

"You wouldn't...."

"Oh, I would do whatever it takes to get that information. After all, you're not that much of a loss if I get the Dark One."

"I don't understand. How would she know?"

"She's more advanced than you or I, she knows. Besides, that monk should have gotten something done..."

"The monk?"

"He's a half-blood, which is better than nothing at all. Or, rather, he was a half-blood. Because of your conspiracy with her, he's no longer with us. That puts us back to square one: a cart with an empty yoke. "

"I thought you were above farming references. And what would that monk have to do with her?"

"Have to do? Well, I have some intentions, which are far beyond what I'd let you do with that girl. After all, inferior stock would be such a pity, not to mention practically ensured between you two."

"Breeding? That's what she is to you, just some animal?"

"Oh, far from it. She's a carrier of very special traits, and a certain union must occur for it to be passed on. The monk was the only match I had found in the five years I was searching before I captured her. You see..."

"I see all I require to, father. You're corrupted to the core, and that girl is a pawn. Your only going to use her to pass on the abilities you require. What the hell would you do with it?"

"That's none of your business. You're too narrow-minded to see the big picture I can create with these talents. The entire world will bow before my children..."

"Your children? Those won't be yours, they'll be your monsters and your slaves and nothing more. I can't see how that would help matters at all, considering I won't let you do it."

Vormav laughed. "You're incorrigible! I don't care what you've done to my little project, things will work out. Malak knows where she is now, and she won't escape. I'll do whatever it takes to receive a malleable creature with those traits. You won't be in my way. Look at you, you can't even stand up. Killing you would take less effort than getting dressed."

Izlude blinked. "Perhaps, but I have to wonder..."

"Yes?"

"If you're going to kill me, and I know you are, why won't you tell me what Sabia can do that you want so badly?"

Vormav chuckled. "You're telling me you knew her for four years and she never showed you anything? Just what did you two do? Ah, well, let's indulge you a bit. Her bloodline runs farther back than any other person's. We've theorized she's a descendant of the Old Ones. Her bloodine would be heavily diluted after so many generations, but she would be the only person who has an unbroken line back to them."

"And that's it? You'd ruin her for that?"

"Oh, not just the fact, the power that it entails. She'd be quite powerful physically, and likely have the ability to distort time and space. These powers are all guesses, of course, and I would wager there are many more. But, most of all..."

"Most of all...?"

"Most of all, she would be able to summon the Dark One. The Prophecy says that the Dark One holds all power and commands scores of demons. With that power, I could..."

Izlude relaxed. "Rule the world? Boy, you're trite."

"Ah, but it won't matter when I ask the Dark One reanimate the Zodiac Fiend."

"It's still far too trite. Anything else you plan to do?"

" I plan to use her superior blood to make a new race as I cast off the last vestiges of the old. And even if my plea goes unheard, I'm sure my noble line and her great blood will produce something more useful than you."

Izlude winced. "I can't see her willing let you within contact of her, seeing as how she called you an old bastard."

Vormav punched his son, sending him sprawling to the floor. "You irreverent twit. I will have a superior race, with or without your consent."

Izlude grinned up from the floor. He wiped the blood from his lip, knowing his end was near. "I actually don't think you'll know what to do with her, seeing as how you've had naught but men since I was born."

Vormav, enraged, pulled the Zodiac Stone from his elaborate robes. "Now, Izlude, my failure, you die.

I call to you, Spirit of the Air,

Ancient master of ships and Master of My Fate,

I beg for your power to slay the sinner

In front of me, slandering your holy name

I ask for you power....."

He held the stone high above his head, watching the body of his son slam satisfyingly into the far wall.

Izlude felt the wind whip past him in a spiral, and the weight on his body became unimaginable. He struggled to breathe, and the pressure increased as the spell progressed. He began to choke on blood running down his throat, and his vision was blurring and would not clear.

"Lend me the strength through your relic,

Your emblem left in my hand

Since the time time the Zodiac Fiend's body parsed

Crush my foe with your winds and strength

Bring me victory!"

Izlude could no longer hear over the wind, and the light in his father's hands was blinding. His chest was slowly getting crushed, and he wasn't sure whether he would first be crushed or drown in his own blood, around which he was only getting pathetic wisps of air past into his slowly suffocating body. He knew, however, that he was going to die. The light subsided, fading into a glow, and his vision was slowly overtaken by black. Vormav walked over, puzzled. "You're not dead yet.."

Izlude licked his lips slowly and tipped his head up. His speech was feather-light, forced past his mouth which was filling with blood. The blood ran down his chin and, in fact, all over, as he looked at his father. "I......forgive.....you......" he said softly. The wounds on the rest of his body were bleeding as profusely as his mouth, and, after another haunting moment of eye contact, his tenuous hold on the world of the living gave way, and he slumped to the floor, coated in blood.

"I reliquished control just in time. I am glad I was reminded what happens if you stay with them when they die. I was almost lost with him." The man pulled his black cloak around him tightly, and pulled the hood to shade his face. His gear in order, he prepared to leave Riovanes in shade. "Shadows of the twilight, cloak me in your presence! VANISH!" He crept, wraith-like, out of his hidden room near the dungeon, out to the stables. He was going to ride like hell out of here, and get an inn for tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would truly begin his life.

It was much later when the energy from the Zodiac Stone has dissipated, and it was then that Jerchai decided to go and see what was going on. He opened the door, and noticed the stench of blood in the rush of almost electric air that leapt at him. He gasped at the sight.

Blood was thrown all over the walls, and the stairs near the door were almost flowing with it. It has soaked into the expensive rugs, a permenant mess that they would deny knowing. Vormav sat at the table, looking lovingly at his Zodiac Stone. Jer was stunned. "What happened here? My Lord, where's Izlude?"

Vormav, without looking up, pointed to the wall next to the door, behind and to the right. Jerchai turned very slowly, not sure what to expect. He gasped.

There lay his friend of seven years, his body a broken and contorted mass of blood and bone-gashed flesh. His body was riddled with wounds from the bones breaking, and blood was everywhere. He barely looked like Izlude, for the pressure had broken several teeth out, and eventually, crushed the jaw, too. His neck looked as though a hand had squeezed it from both sides, and-Jer swallowed hard- was that his brain that was lying on the floor ? His ribcage was completely shattered; his appendages looked like those of an ill-treated rag doll. Jer felt very, very ill. "So, Old Friend, this is what remain of our friendship: me in pain and you far from pain. Well, may you rest in peace." He whispered softly, as though Izlude still existed in that wretched, twisted shell. "That witch you loved caused this in the end, and she shall pay it with her own existance. This I swear to you, Izlude. She will pay for your pain."