The atmosphere in the great castle of Figaro held a great silence,
one that seemed to forbid any sound from breaking it. The fact that it was
dark outside didn't help, either, and Pandora was careful to make her gait
as quiet as possible. Although she had lived in Figaro for eighteen years,
the blackness from the night outside gave the normally familiar castle a
new face; a frightening one. Moving a little faster in her eagerness to get
her task over and done with as quickly as possible, she hit her shin on a
small table as she rounded a corner. Knocked off guard, Pandora fell to the
ground rather loudly. She rolled onto her back, clutching her wounded shin.
Still sitting down, she inched the hem of her skirt up to inspect the
source of the pain. A drop of dark liquid rolled down her slender calf, and
she let out the breath she had been holding in a quick sigh.
"Just what I need now," the blonde girl murmured, rather annoyed. She stood up, wincing from the pain in her knee, and walked around the corner. As she looked down the end of the hall, she froze and shrieked. There was somebody down there, somebody looking right back at her. Regaining her senses, she stood up and began to walk towards the figure, rapidly making up random excuses in her mind to pardon her late-night excursion. As she neared the figure, though, she stopped as soon as she recognized it. It was herself. She was looking straight into a mirror. Pandora shakily ran a hand through her wavy blonde hair and followed the plushly carpeted path left.
"You'd think after cleaning this place since I was six I'd know it like the back of my hand," she muttered, taking another left and warily watching the bleak stone walls. As she took another left, she sighed again. This one possessed a tinge of relief, however, for Pandora was standing in front of the door that she had been directed to retrieve something out of. The Figaran Archives. She slowly reached her hand out and pulled the door open softly, and stepped inside. Before she shut the door, however, she heard the grandfather clock down the hall strike the hour. Pandora started.
"The hour… already?" She asked aloud, surprised and startled. Then fear crept into her eyes, and she shut the door rather loudly, suddenly unconcerned about the amount of noise she made. "I have to find it," she said to herself repeatedly as she leafed through the thousands of books on the bookshelves in the large library. One leather-bound copy after another was carelessly tossed onto the floor below. "Figaran birth records," she muttered, tossing yet another book over her shoulder. "Figaran burial dates," she muttered, sending another book flying. As she threw the last book on the first shelf down, she nearly screamed with frustration. "Dammit," she cursed. "Where the hell are the mechanical additions records?" She scanned the bindings of books, looking feverishly. "Kefka's going to kill me," she told herself aloud, suddenly stopping her hectic hunt, astonished at how that one name could sound so rebellious. She rubbed her temples rapidly, trying to rid herself of the stress that embodied her. She was being paid a generous amount, however, and bringing the records to him would only help to secure her earnings. When Pandora had first met the man, she was paralyzed with fear. After all, he was the man who was second in command to the greatest power the world had ever known. It had scared her that one night; she had nearly fainted with horror as the Imperial soldiers climbed through her window in the servant's quarters and apprehended her. When Kefka had told her what was going on, however, she couldn't help but join him. That and the number of zeros that were currently occupying the space on the contract she signed. She did feel bad going against the King, the lineage that her family had worked for for years, but with the amount of money she was going to possess in a short amount of time, the King could work for HER for all she cared. Pandora took a deep breath and stood up a little straighter. She was the only one, she was the one person in the entire castle of Figaro that the Empire had requested as an inside person. And if she didn't get those records to Kefka in time…
Pandora's attention snapped back to the bookshelves as the bindings she was scanning finally displayed the book she was looking for. Yes, it was the one. As she stepped down from the long ladder and cautiously looked around the edges of the bookcases to remedy the sudden feeling that someone was watching her, an abrupt wave of dark feelings rushed through her mind. Traitor, they called her. You're a filthy, double-crossing spy, Pandora, they stated.
"No," Pandora hissed loudly. "I'm NOT, I'm doing what I need to survive," she told it aloud. You're betraying the people you can trust, they stated. "I am NOT," Pandora confirmed her own beliefs, despite the fact that it was getting hard to remember which side to believe. You know, Pandora, the voice started again, there is such a place as Hell. Struck with an enormous amount of horror, Pandora nearly dropped the book she was holding. It was a fearful thought. Yes, to spend eternity in Hell, in the burning flames and evil, writhing souls like yours sounds okay as long as you can live a good forty or so years in this world, eh? The voice asked again. "STOP IT!" Pandora shrieked. A sound at the window in the Archive startled Pandora out of her argument with her conscience.
"Pandora," it called. Intrigued, Pandora skipped lightly over to the sill and looked down. Below Kefka sat on a chocobo, holding a lit torch. Two other Imperial soldiers accompanied him.
"What?" She called quietly. Even with the seventy or so meters in between them, Pandora could see the syrupy-sweet smile plastered on his face.
"Do you have the record?" He asked. Glad to be over and done with her duty, she nodded vigorously.
"Toss it down here," he called, reaching up with his hand. Suddenly wary of how easily she could be cheated, Pandora's blue-green eyes narrowed.
"I'll jump down, and you catch me. Then we can exchange," Pandora countered. Kefka laughed, an evil, almost mechanical-sounding noise that grated against Pandora's nerves. She shuddered, then stuck one leg outside the window, preparing to jump. Climb back inside, the voice urged. He's not to be trusted. Do you know what the Empire does to girls like you? Stay inside with the Figaros, the voice urged once again. "To Hell with the Figaros," Pandora cursed then, and slid her other leg out.
"Oh!" Kefka cried out, nearly shocking her off the sill. "Do you know where that girl is being held? The magic user," he queried.
"In the bedrooms to the west," Pandora called back. Kefka nodded.
"Jump then," he called, gesturing to the back of his chocobo. "Then we can take you back to the Empire, get you paid, and get you off to where you want to go." Pandora nodded, grasped the book, and slid off the sill. As she fell towards him, Kefka grinned. "Foolish slut," he called up to her, then urged his chocobo a few meters away. He saw Pandora's face, the horridly shocked expression that would be her last, and with a sick satisfaction watched her hit the concrete ground where his chocobo had previously presided with a sickening smack. He dismounted his chocobo and walked over to her remains. He picked up the leather-bound book, checked the title, and brushed some residue off of it. Taking three gold coins from his pocket, he tossed them on her body and remounted. Taking his torch and flinging it inside the window of the Archive, he nodded towards the soldiers.
"Off to the west wing then, shall we?"
"Just what I need now," the blonde girl murmured, rather annoyed. She stood up, wincing from the pain in her knee, and walked around the corner. As she looked down the end of the hall, she froze and shrieked. There was somebody down there, somebody looking right back at her. Regaining her senses, she stood up and began to walk towards the figure, rapidly making up random excuses in her mind to pardon her late-night excursion. As she neared the figure, though, she stopped as soon as she recognized it. It was herself. She was looking straight into a mirror. Pandora shakily ran a hand through her wavy blonde hair and followed the plushly carpeted path left.
"You'd think after cleaning this place since I was six I'd know it like the back of my hand," she muttered, taking another left and warily watching the bleak stone walls. As she took another left, she sighed again. This one possessed a tinge of relief, however, for Pandora was standing in front of the door that she had been directed to retrieve something out of. The Figaran Archives. She slowly reached her hand out and pulled the door open softly, and stepped inside. Before she shut the door, however, she heard the grandfather clock down the hall strike the hour. Pandora started.
"The hour… already?" She asked aloud, surprised and startled. Then fear crept into her eyes, and she shut the door rather loudly, suddenly unconcerned about the amount of noise she made. "I have to find it," she said to herself repeatedly as she leafed through the thousands of books on the bookshelves in the large library. One leather-bound copy after another was carelessly tossed onto the floor below. "Figaran birth records," she muttered, tossing yet another book over her shoulder. "Figaran burial dates," she muttered, sending another book flying. As she threw the last book on the first shelf down, she nearly screamed with frustration. "Dammit," she cursed. "Where the hell are the mechanical additions records?" She scanned the bindings of books, looking feverishly. "Kefka's going to kill me," she told herself aloud, suddenly stopping her hectic hunt, astonished at how that one name could sound so rebellious. She rubbed her temples rapidly, trying to rid herself of the stress that embodied her. She was being paid a generous amount, however, and bringing the records to him would only help to secure her earnings. When Pandora had first met the man, she was paralyzed with fear. After all, he was the man who was second in command to the greatest power the world had ever known. It had scared her that one night; she had nearly fainted with horror as the Imperial soldiers climbed through her window in the servant's quarters and apprehended her. When Kefka had told her what was going on, however, she couldn't help but join him. That and the number of zeros that were currently occupying the space on the contract she signed. She did feel bad going against the King, the lineage that her family had worked for for years, but with the amount of money she was going to possess in a short amount of time, the King could work for HER for all she cared. Pandora took a deep breath and stood up a little straighter. She was the only one, she was the one person in the entire castle of Figaro that the Empire had requested as an inside person. And if she didn't get those records to Kefka in time…
Pandora's attention snapped back to the bookshelves as the bindings she was scanning finally displayed the book she was looking for. Yes, it was the one. As she stepped down from the long ladder and cautiously looked around the edges of the bookcases to remedy the sudden feeling that someone was watching her, an abrupt wave of dark feelings rushed through her mind. Traitor, they called her. You're a filthy, double-crossing spy, Pandora, they stated.
"No," Pandora hissed loudly. "I'm NOT, I'm doing what I need to survive," she told it aloud. You're betraying the people you can trust, they stated. "I am NOT," Pandora confirmed her own beliefs, despite the fact that it was getting hard to remember which side to believe. You know, Pandora, the voice started again, there is such a place as Hell. Struck with an enormous amount of horror, Pandora nearly dropped the book she was holding. It was a fearful thought. Yes, to spend eternity in Hell, in the burning flames and evil, writhing souls like yours sounds okay as long as you can live a good forty or so years in this world, eh? The voice asked again. "STOP IT!" Pandora shrieked. A sound at the window in the Archive startled Pandora out of her argument with her conscience.
"Pandora," it called. Intrigued, Pandora skipped lightly over to the sill and looked down. Below Kefka sat on a chocobo, holding a lit torch. Two other Imperial soldiers accompanied him.
"What?" She called quietly. Even with the seventy or so meters in between them, Pandora could see the syrupy-sweet smile plastered on his face.
"Do you have the record?" He asked. Glad to be over and done with her duty, she nodded vigorously.
"Toss it down here," he called, reaching up with his hand. Suddenly wary of how easily she could be cheated, Pandora's blue-green eyes narrowed.
"I'll jump down, and you catch me. Then we can exchange," Pandora countered. Kefka laughed, an evil, almost mechanical-sounding noise that grated against Pandora's nerves. She shuddered, then stuck one leg outside the window, preparing to jump. Climb back inside, the voice urged. He's not to be trusted. Do you know what the Empire does to girls like you? Stay inside with the Figaros, the voice urged once again. "To Hell with the Figaros," Pandora cursed then, and slid her other leg out.
"Oh!" Kefka cried out, nearly shocking her off the sill. "Do you know where that girl is being held? The magic user," he queried.
"In the bedrooms to the west," Pandora called back. Kefka nodded.
"Jump then," he called, gesturing to the back of his chocobo. "Then we can take you back to the Empire, get you paid, and get you off to where you want to go." Pandora nodded, grasped the book, and slid off the sill. As she fell towards him, Kefka grinned. "Foolish slut," he called up to her, then urged his chocobo a few meters away. He saw Pandora's face, the horridly shocked expression that would be her last, and with a sick satisfaction watched her hit the concrete ground where his chocobo had previously presided with a sickening smack. He dismounted his chocobo and walked over to her remains. He picked up the leather-bound book, checked the title, and brushed some residue off of it. Taking three gold coins from his pocket, he tossed them on her body and remounted. Taking his torch and flinging it inside the window of the Archive, he nodded towards the soldiers.
"Off to the west wing then, shall we?"