Starting Over
Disclaimer: FF9 belongs to Squaresoft, not I.
Chapter 1: A New Being
This scene takes place after Zidane left Kuja, thinking he was dead, because Kuja can "expire." Kuja thinking the same tells Zidane a confession and then lays still in that forest like place, and dies...or that's what he thought happened. Kuja didn't die. Kuja wakes up finds himself just very ill and in great pain, but still alive. He gets up and vowed to live life again. Thanking the Gods for giving him a second chance. So now the story takes place about 3 months later. Enjoy!
A little bit of mist can do more than just blind a ship.
A mist can do more than have a person lose their way in a forest.
Much more than that.
What if mist, fire, wind, water, and other elements of the earth were combined?
And with a touch of magic what will be made from that?
Black mages...no!
Something more than a limited and mindless puppet.
Much more.
Something beyond imagination.
A youthful face appeared from within a group of shadows. He delicately lifted his right hand and gently flicked his hair back which had presently covered his left eye. He walked smoothly over to a fire that he had made earlier and tossed in a few more sticks of wood, and watched the flames grow larger. He placed his forefinger and thumb upon his chin and rested the weight of his head as his eyes glowed with great anticipation and thought.
Almost time he reflected wordlessly. The young figure slowly inhaled, and exhaled calmly. His pale face shined duly in the moonlight and his red-brown lips closed firmly. Just a few more minutes.
He faced the moon and smiled keenly, his eyes glinting at the stars above. He stood up straight and tilted his head to one side, and with his left hand he touched the tip of the feather that lay half embedded in his hair and half protruding out into the open air. He smothered it between his fingers, feeling the elasticity tickle his fingers, and then he felt a sudden breeze. He let go of his feather, and closed his eyes. His eyelashes tipped down and his face relaxed. He was in a trance. He concentrated his spiritual energy into the ends of his fingers and sparks of white energy burned upon the palm of his hand. The youth sighed and his feet responded, they began to lift from the ground and he zoomed up into the sky. He quietly opened his eyes and examined the mist below him and outstretched his arms and the white energy upon his hand released and took in the mist. The white energy took hold of the mist as if it was an object and pulled the mist back through a specific route and into the veins of the wielder.
The young figure casually, almost playfully closed his hand and the white energy stopped sucking in the mist. He flew back down and the few bits of dirt scattered away from his boots as he silently landed. He stood near the fire and stretched out his arm and the mist he took in flowed out of his hand like water and reluctantly joined the blistering fire. He breathed upon the fire and his breath came out in a white gas form and combined with the fire and the mist. The young figure smiled amusedly as the fire, mist, and his warm breath swirled together in a huge ball of colors. The heat of the fire should have scorched his white skin, but he merely shook the heat aside. The young figure was obviously young, but his eyes tell of another story. They tell of his suffering, his greatness, and most important of all….the full knowledge of life and death.
His face had if any a few wrinkles only seen close upon his face, his lips broadened into a smirk as he thought about his past life. He thought about the bunch of humans and their pathetic mistakes. About the monkey tailed boy Zidane, the lively princess Garnet, and of course, the clumsy "so called Pluto Knight" Steiner. He scoffed afterwards and almost forgotten about why he was there that night. He twisted his hand open in a very feminine manner and flashes of lightning shot out of the palm of his hand towards the fire, and he forced all the elements he had used together. As he brought flashes of lightning to life, with his other hand he rubbed it on his face as if to wipe a teardrop and wretched it over the fire extending his fingers far apart from each other, and bright light ignited from his hand, and water came curving out. The water conducted the electricity, and nearly washed away the fire into small embers, but the young man was cautious and knew the steps to this ritual before. He had done it once before, but this time…..he will succeed in making a being. A being that will live longer than those black mages, a being with immense power, a being that will always be by his side to serve him for all eternity.
Only a few more things need to be added he thought as he tucked his two hands into a close and shook the magic away from his fingers and renewed yet another magic spell and withdrew his hands and wind came flying out of his hands. Pulling other things into the fire, fueling the flame. Almost done the young figure centered his two hands to his chest and pulled the fire and all the other elements merged within the smolder flames and compressed them into an orb. He pulled everything, all that he had been added into the flames into a small sphere of light. All that was left of the fire was a few embers slowly turning into ashes. His face suddenly flushed into a strange seriousness and he carried the orb of light protectively towards a piece of clay.
The clay was not just any clay. It was carved into a beautiful human figure of a woman, but the short height and pure innocent pair of eyes proved the figure to be a little young girl. The young man pushed the orb into the clay figure and the orb of light entered the clay girl and her frozen expression shuddered with life. The clay figure moved and the eye lids began to close and open softly. The young figure nodded towards the clay figure and shouted out, "Live!" The words sounded more like a command then just a shout. The young figure echoed calmly, "Live, breathe, live…breathe…I am your master…come forth!"
The clay girl listened and responded. She blinked and breathed in the air around her as she was commanded, and slowly her body was no longer clay, but real human flesh. She was complete! The young master pushed his hair back and said to the girl, "I am your master. Kuja. Remember that." He pointed to himself and smiled with delight at his creation. He walked towards her and curled his hand around her chin, and examined her smoothness, her pure skin. Kuja observed the textures of the clothing she wore that he himself had carved upon her body. He smoothed the wrinkles from the garments she wore and his breath was warm and near her neck as he took great interest in her body. It was one thing to carve and create life into the clay form, but another thing to see his work come alive in true flesh. Kuja shifted his head to one side and rested his chin on her shoulder, and asked, almost breaking into sarcasm, "How is life?"
"Can you feel the coldness of the night air? Can you taste the air? Can you feel the life?" The girl nodded monotonously.
Kuja slipped his hand down her neck and into the opening of her garments, but he hesitated and thought better of it, and brought his hands back to his side, and laughed. He chuckled softly and walked around her in a semi-circle. His steps stern yet gentle as he laughed with joy at his creation. "At last" Kuja said with a sigh, "…I have created something better than Garland!" Kuja smiled, and smoothed his hair back, and with his free hand he lifted her chin up so there was eye contact between them. Kuja shook with laughter, his voice booming into the night like some lunatic. "I have created something better than Garland! And this proves that I am better than him. Far superior!" Kuja said those words hatefully, and cringed back lifting his milk like hands away from the girl, and shook his head, no, even if I create a better being than Garland had it only means I created something better than me, but then again, that means my creation is better than Zidane. Kuja's eyes flickered maliciously as his mind raced with thoughts, and he looked at the girl once more, and rested his chin upon the edge of his forefinger with his thumb facing inward towards his neck, "What should I name you?" Kuja thought about it, and said some names aloud, and name after another sounded worse than the last, "Diana, Elizabeth,…maybe Victoria…no, that sounds so old…perhaps Isabella…too common….." Kuja breathed out in frustration, but his face was calm as ever. Kuja twisted his fingers out in the open as if to catch a leaf, and he said triumphantly, "I know…Gallery…"
Kuja nodded, and repeated the name, "Gallery…a not so common name….in fact no one really has this name…." Kuja looked at the clay girl now flesh and said her name to her, "Gallery, that is your name from now on." The clay girl nodded drearily.
Kuja scattered the remnants of his fire and brought his hand to his lips and gave a high and shrill whistle. Kuja looked back and commanded, "Come Gallery, there is much to do." Gallery obeyed and did as she was commanded, and Kuja whistled once more, and a huge dragon with feathers upon its back came into view. Circling the sky once and fell back on the ground bending low for Kuja to get on. Kuja gracefully got onto the beast, and almost laughed as he looked at his servant, "Gallery, you may get on, you are not afraid are you?"
Gallery did not answer she simply got onto the dragon, and Kuja grabbed onto the beast's feathers and whispered something into its ears, and the dragon lifted to the sky and headed for a cave; Kuja's hideout.
This story is in honor for MasterShaper who has convinced me to write this story after his hard work of writing.