Author's notes: Just… don't ask. I can't explain this one, not easily. But if I don't at least try to write it, I'll always regret it.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Final Fantasy series, Square Enix does. I'm also not making a dime off of this, so sueing me is pointless.
Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles: Broken Fates
By: BlackLadyCharon
Prologue
We're a fucked up group, you do know that, right? Always have been, always will be.
I, Qua Yin, child of the Selkies, who can't abide the thought of stealing. I pick up gil and return it to it to its original owners. I pay for the fruit I get in the market, and my weapons at the blacksmith's and my accessories have belonged to me and only me. The whole village of Tipa just stares at me in a kind of frustrated awe, waiting for the day I break down and act like a Selkie. But I can't, it's just not in me. I should have been born a Clavat, for the Dreamer's sake!
Liam, the Clavat. Kind, generous, son of farmers. His room has bolts and bars on the outside of the door, and even then, I've seen it bend when he throws his weight against it. A berserk state, beyond anything I have ever seen, even in the monsters that crowd the paths to the Myrrh trees. One minute normal Clavat, the next tearing apart anything and everything in his path. I've gotten rather used to the idea that his hair doubles as a 'Clavat Handle' and that the caravan is a convenient way to make him take a nap for awhile.
Jirak the Lilty, who is an embarrassment to his whole family. Uncounted ages the Lilties have been warriors, fond of whacking things with their gloves and spears and swords. Given the fact that they are the smallest of the Races, I suspect it is a size complex. And below the belt doesn't count for them. So, with our already broken mindsets, is it any wonder that our pureblood Lilty is a pacifist? Good with Cure and Clear and time spells, but lousy with weapons. Why does he come with us, then? Aside from the fact that we need a healer, he comes for Ayllora, which makes him even more outcast by Lilty standards.
Ayllora, the Yuke, last of our warped little quartet. As the Lilty are Warrior, the Yuke are Mage. Spells come as natural to them as breath to the rest of us. Except Ayllora. Spell stones shatter when she touches them, or the spells warp and become useless or as dangerous to us as to our enemies. Yet put a mace in her hands, point her downwind, and she smashes everything before her. And as Jirak loves her for the fact she is everything he should be but isn't, so she loves him for being her opposite. I often keep myself awake at night imagining their child. Would it be a Yulty, or a Like? I suspect I think too much on it.
And thus we four, each broken, unable to fit into the normal paths and molds of our Race, become the Caravan that protects and shelters those who are normal. If we cannot be what they are, we can at least offer our services in a way that keeps our Races alive and whole for another year. We are the Caravan of Tipa, and we do not falter, no matter how dangerous the fight, how powerful the foe. We cannot falter, cannot fail or leave any of us behind. We are the Broken Fate, which cannot be mended.
May Mio Dreamweaver help us all.