The Wake

by M. Thomas

The various characters of FF6 are brought together for a solemn event.

The Wake

The young couple paused on the dusty footpath in front of the old house. They had approached this dwelling many times in the past, always glad for the refuge that could be found within its walls. This trip, however, their hearts were filled with an anticipation and dread so thick that it seemed to form an impenetrable shield around the old Magus homestead.

"Locke, honey," Celes said in a pleading voice. "I don't know if I can do this. I don't know what to say to her."

Locke stared ahead, through the fading twilight, trying to order his own thoughts. After a few moments, he turned and looked at the profile of his wife whose eyes were still fixed on the muted glow emanating from the front windows. Gently, he took her pale, slender hand from the crook of his arm and held it between his large hands. Locke was nearly moved to tears as he watched this once stolid imperial general wrestle with her most fearsome foe – matters of the heart.

For all the training she had endured as a rising Magitek-Knight, none of it had prepared her for dealing with basic emotions, which so easily threw her life into upheaval. Love had been easy enough for her to figure out, but anger, shame, and jealousy had nearly destroyed their marriage during the first two years. Now, six years later, Celes stood ready to do battle with the specter of grief. She would not face it alone.

"Sweetheart," Locke whispered.

Celes continued to stare ahead, the only movement she made was to begin running her other hand in a slow circle over her slightly protruding belly that held the latest member of the Cole family.

"Celes," he said a little more forcefully, squeezing her hand.

Slowly, she turned from the house to face her husband. A lone tear escaped to trace its way down her face, and Locke knew she would chide herself later for being so openly weak. For now, she allowed him to pull her close and hold her as she sobbed into his chest and their tears mingled.

The couple held each other, for a few minutes, in near silence until a crunching sound alerted them to someone approaching. Celes had managed to quit crying, but chose to ignore the intruder and simply hold onto her "rock" as the flood of emotions tossed her about. Setzer came up the crushed seashell footpath behind them, pausing only to give Locke's shoulder a squeeze before moving up the stairs and into the house.

After the door latch clicked shut, silence enveloped them once again, and Locke held his wife until he felt her shift in his arms. It was a move that he was well acquainted with and recognized as a signal to let her go. She took a step back and began to compose herself. Long strands of blond hair were pasted to her face by the sticky tears she had cried. Her face felt puffy, and she knew that her eyes were ringed with red much like the soft grey eyes she saw behind Locke's wire rimmed spectacles.

As Celes wiped at her eyes and smoothed back her hair, Locke pulled one of his trademark bandannas from a pocket in his tunic and set to cleaning his glasses. "Don't worry about what to say, love. There are no words that can assuage the pain she's feeling. Just knowing that we're here will give her some comfort," he said as he wrapped the wire rims back behind his ears.

Celes managed a weak smile for her husband. "Thanks for the advice, Professor Cole," she replied in a lovingly sarcastic voice. "While you're at it, can you think of any way to 'assuage' the back pain that your child is causing me?"

Locke's face split into the lopsided grin that, after all these years, still set her heart at ease. "Go ahead and poke fun, ice queen."

Sparks of light appeared in her blue eyes, and her smile widened. "Okay, thief. I think I will."

"Humph, you know the only thing I've stolen in the past eight years has been your heart," he said as the two turned back toward the house and locked arms.

"Yes, and maybe my sanity," she retorted while climbing the ancient stone steps that led to the front door. The light banter had given them a moments respite from their grief, and they finally felt prepared to go inside.

The air in the small house hung thick with the smell of fresh cut flowers. The cool deep scent was reminiscent of the flower shop in Figaro Castle, where most of these flowers had no doubt come from. As if on cue, Edgar appeared from behind a particularly beautiful arrangement of roses with his lovely bride of two years on his arm. Locke helped Celes out of her pale lavender stole as the majestic couple approached.

The two families had not seen each other since the royal wedding and although news that Her Majesty was "with child" spread quickly throughout the land, the Figaros were surprised to see that Locke and Celes were once again expecting an addition to their family. Locke stepped forward to shake Edgar's hand as the two ladies swept each other into a hug, which was made slightly awkward by the two bellies competing for space.

"Congratulations," Locke said quietly with a beaming smile while Edgar enthusiastically pumped his hand. "I never thought I'd see you married, much less see you a poppa."

"And congratulations to you Mr. Cole," Edgar said as he tightly gripped Locke's hand while looking past him to an obviously pregnant Celes. "This is, what, your fifth?"

Locke only nodded, but his smile betrayed more than a sense of pride. "And they're all angels. Or at least they have been so far," he said as a sobering look came over his face.

"Locke, I know you thought we were never going to get started on our family, but I'm wondering if you guys are ever going to stop! Have they not told you what causes these things?"

Locke gave a wry smile, "Like I haven't heard that one before. We'll see how good your sense of humor is when you're rolling out of bed at two in the morning to change and feed the baby."

Ever the politician, Edgar knew when he'd been talked into a corner. Locke looked back over his shoulder to see the two ladies still congratulating each other and, no doubt, trading stories about how their pregnancies were progressing. He turned back with a more somber look on his face, "How's she doing, Edgar."

The king let out a long sigh, "She's doing better than I expected. I think you'll be surprised at how much she's grown. She was actually in the middle of a global tour when news came to her about Strago's condition."

The two walked a short distance away from the door to allow room for people to use it. Many of the town citizens had come to pay their respects and give Relm their condolences; they were, however, reticent to push past the King of Figaro on their way out the door. "In a way, I'm not really surprised to see her off on her own. After the way she took care of herself during The Breaking, and lets face it, we know she comes by it honestly. Speaking of which, has Shadow shown up yet?"

"Funny you should mention that," Edgar replied. "It was Clyde who sent word to Relm, and it turns out that he'd been taking care of Strago for a while."

Locke could feel his jaw drop, but couldn't do a thing to make it close.

"Yeah, I thought you'd say as much," Edgar said to his dumbfounded friend. "Here's something else for you to chew on while you've got your mouth open. He's not wearing the mask anymore. He's actually quite a handsome looking fellow, but it's just creepy looking at him and knowing that he's Shadow."

Locke's jaw was moving, but no words were coming out. Edgar was about to explain more of the whole ordeal, but something caught his eye at the end of the room. Locke noticed his friend's change of demeanor and turned to find a young woman emerging from Strago's study on the other end of the house.

At seventeen years of age, Relm was every bit as tall as Celes. Her strawberry-blond hair was cropped close to the neck and curled under, and she was still as slender as a beanpole. The one characteristic that Locke noticed being markedly different was that her eyes, usually so full of life and mischief, seemed dull and vacant. No doubt she'd gotten little sleep over the past few days as a result of traveling and grieving for her grandfather. It had clearly taken its toll on her.

Locke was so intent on Relm that he didn't pay much attention to the man that stepped up to whisper in her ear. When the man turned around and addressed the crowded house, Locke's mind finally slipped into gear and he realized that Shadow's voice was coming out of that man's face. Locke turned a wide-eyed stare toward Edgar who returned the look with a single nod and a raise of his eyebrows.

"May we have your attention please," the gruff voice repeated. "Relm would like to say a few words to those of you who have come tonight."

The crowd quieted down and waited for Relm to speak. It seemed to take a few moments for her to reign in her emotions before she could begin, but finally she looked up through tear-filled eyes and began to speak. "Thank you all for coming. I know that grandpa meant so much to all of you. He would be honored, much as we are honored, to see how many have shown up to pay their respects. I have some friends that have traveled a great distance from many places to be here, and I would appreciate some time to visit with them alone this evening. I hope… I hope that you all will…"

Relm stopped, unable to finish the sentence. She stood staring at the floor in front of her while tears began to flow freely. After a moment of silence, Clyde stepped forward, placing an arm lovingly around his daughter's shoulder and said, "We hope you'll join us tomorrow as we give Strago back to the earth. The burial will be in the east cemetery at one o'clock."

Cold air and the scent of smoke wafted through the door as the room slowly emptied of the townsfolk. Some stopped by Relm to hug her and whisper in her ear, some shook Clyde's hand before leaving, but finally, the only people left in the room were the Returners and their significant others.

Setzer headed outside to get some more wood for the fire, and Locke walked back to stand behind his wife placing his arms around and over her belly. Celes relaxed into him as they gazed around the room. They could see that almost all the Returners had managed to get to Thamasa. King Edgar and Queen Selena stood, in all their royal regalia, beside the Coles. Across the room, Prince Sabin stood behind a seated Princess Rowena. Setzer returned from tending the fire to stand beside the famed opera singer Maria. Force of habit caused Locke to note that she was wearing a very shiny stone on her left hand. On the other side of the house, Cyan stood alone by the front window. Gau had taken a seat on the floor close by the couch that held Terra and her husband Lucian.

For a short while, silence settled over the small gathering except for the crackling and popping of the dry firewood and the steady tick-tock of the Oakwood grandfather clock in the corner. Finally, Relm broke the stillness, "All of you being here means a lot to me. Our neighbors have known us all our life, but I just don't feel as close to them as I do to all of you."

Terra, unable to fight off her motherly instincts any longer, rose from her seat and crossed the floor to wrap her arms around the young woman. "Relm, we are not just your friends, we are your family."

That sentiment was echoed throughout the room, and knowing that she was cared about, so deeply, warmed Relm's heart.

Edgar had always felt like the unofficial leader of the group and he could tell that Relm was at a loss of what to do. Drawing on his knowledge of peoples and cultures, he stepped forward with an idea, "I believe it is the custom of people in these parts to spend the night before a burial celebrating the life and accomplishments of the departed loved one. If you'll all agree with me, I believe that Strago's life is one worthy of such a celebration."

The group needed no other prodding to get started. Sturdy wooden chairs were brought from around the kitchen table to place in the living area. Selena and Celes moved in to take command of two of the couches, and their husband's laps provided pillows for them to rest their heads on. The rest of the group took what chairs and stools were available, and Gau stretched out on the rug in front of the hearth.

This evening had the makings to turn into a long night, but the group was prepared to do whatever it took to comfort Relm and give Strago the send-off he deserved. Thankfully, the townsfolk had all brought various dishes, baked goods, and desserts so the only thing they needed to worry with was keeping the fire stoked.

Once she was satisfied that everyone had settled in comfortably, Relm began, "For all the trouble I gave him as a kid, I really loved my grandpa a lot. No offense, dad," she said to the dark-haired man seated on the ottoman in the corner, "but he's the only father that I knew up until a few years ago."

Clyde said nothing, only nodded his head and kept his gaze on his daughter. Locke gave a mental shudder as he finally realized what was so disconcerting about seeing Shadow, er Clyde, without his hood. For more than a year, Shadow had hidden under that ninja mask while he traveled with the Returners. Now that Locke could see his facial features, it felt as though if Clyde was sitting there naked. Locke almost jumped when he realized he had been staring at Clyde and now the ninja was staring back with the corners of his mouth turned upward into a small, knowing smile. Locke quickly diverted his eyes to the floor while the heat began rising in his cheeks.

Though her eyes had begun to mist over, Relm continued, "If I had to sum my grandpa up in one word, I would have to say that word is 'Supportive'. Not a day went by that he didn't let me know that he loved me. I suppose he could have been bitter about having to raise his granddaughter, but he chose to get involved in my life and encourage me to go after my dreams of painting, even when my art turned out to be dangerous from time to time."

That brought a round of chuckles from the group. They all had enough experience with Relm to know that her unique painting style was more than just art. Back when magic still had a firm grip on the world, her creations routinely came to life to fight for her.

"And these past three years, he supported my decision to travel, study, and continue with my artwork." Once again, the tears began to trickle down her cheeks; "I just wish he would have come with me instead of staying here all alone with nobody to talk to and nothing to do." With her heart breaking, she leaned into the comforting hug that Terra offered from the seat beside her.

Before silence reclaimed the cozy living room, Cyan cleared his throat and began to speak. "Young lady, think not that thy decision caused thy grandfather regret. Nay, it inspired a belief that he held close to his heart, and thus, a belief that hath inspired me."

Those few words were all it took to calm Relm's sobbing and capture the attention of the rest of the Returners. With everyone present looking on, Cyan continued with the story, "'Tis not a surprise that the kingdom of Doma is being rebuilt due to my efforts and extensive support from the kingdom of Figaro. However, were it not for thy grandfather, the project would never have started."

A few eyes flitted to where King Edgar sat on the couch with his legs crossed at the ankles on a stool in front of him. Not paying attention to the rest of the room, he slowly nodded his head as he focused on playing with Selena's long brown curls.

"'Twas scarcely more than a year ago that thy grandfather traveled through Figaro on one of his surveying trips. I had happily been serving as High Chancellor to His Majesty, King Edgar, since the defeat of Kefka, but my heart began to ache for Doma and those displaced by her demise."

Cyan entered the expansive courtyard where the Falcon had just put down. The hot desert sun was at its zenith, so there were relatively few shadows to take refuge in. He decided to wait until the gangplank lowered before making the trek, through the blistering heat, to the airship. Knowing Setzer, it would be a while until he finished with all his post-flight checks.

To Cyan's surprise, the wait was a short one. The ship had been on the ground for less than ten minutes before the gangplank lowered with a 'THUD' on the desert sand. Cyan pushed himself away from the door frame he had been leaning on and headed toward the airship, but Setzer was on the ground and halfway to the courtyard door by the time they met.

The silver-haired gambler was sporting a bump on his head and a scowl on his face when the High Chancellor finally made it to him.

"Welcome back to Figaro, Setzer. King Edgar wished to be here at thy arrival, but His Majesty hath been engaged in diplomatic concerns all morning and shall remain in meetings for the rest of the day."

Setzer shook hands with the old knight, "Not a problem, my friend. We're only here to restock our supplies and to get me away from that crazy loon for a few hours."

Cyan stood with a confused look on his face for a few seconds before saying, "Speakest thou of Master Strago?"

"Of course I'm talking about Strago," he replied with a grimace. "Unless you know of any other crazy, map-charting loons I've got hiding on my ship."

Knowing that this display of enmity was out of character for the gambler, Cyan's curiosity demanded to figure out what the problem was, "Pray tell, what is the cause of thy quarrel with Master Strago?"

Setzer leaned forward, deliberately, and pointed to the rising knot on his head, "This, chancellor, is the 'cause of my quarrel'. That old man is as spoony about his maps as Mog is about kupo nuts."

Cyan stood waiting for Setzer to elaborate further, but the silver-haired man only shook his head and started for the door. "I'm headed to get supplies. I'll charge them to the castle account as usual." Setzer stopped and turned to face Cyan before heading into the castle, "Oh, yeah. Strago has some questions for you, but be careful in there. He's crotchety and cantankerous today. Consider yourself warned."

Not sure what to make of that warning, Cyan made his way onto the Falcon, and searched many of the rooms before he finally heard a mumbling, rustling sound coming from Setzer's study. He entered the portal to find the rich, mahogany room completely remodeled with paper. The walls sported various maps and graphs while the table was piled high with stacks of the white sheets. Partially hidden behind one of those stacks, an elderly gentleman sat reshuffling and leafing through documents. His white hair stuck out haphazardly in all directions and a small pair of glasses hung precariously on the precipice of his nose.

With head tilted back and eyes firmly on the paper, Strago spoke, "I see you standing there, and I'll be with you in a minute."

The old man continued to read, silently mouthing words. Reaching the end of the paper, he gave a satisfied nod and laid it down on a small stack. Taking off his glasses, he turned to face Cyan and nearly jumped with surprise. "What are you doing on the ship? Have we landed already?"

"'Tis true, old friend," Cyan said with a broadening smile. "Thou hast been on the ground for some time now."

"Humph, I thought you were that bumbling oaf of an airship captain coming back to apologize. I should've known better."

"Apologize," Cyan questioned. "What would he need to apologize for?"

"My maps," Strago said lifting his arms and gesturing to the room around him. "Letting him in here is like herding chocobos through a rose garden. Something is bound to get damaged."

Cyan nodded in thought for a moment, then pressed the issue a little further, "Master Setzer is sporting a bump on his head. Dids't thou, perchance, have anything to do with it?"
"Of course I did," the exasperated man said. "It's the only way I could ensure that he wouldn't come in and fold-up another one of my maps. Maps are delicate things. They are supposed to be carefully rolled and gently stored in tubes. That fool came in to 'help' me this morning and ended up putting a crease right through South Figaro."

Finally, all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place and Cyan understood what Setzer had been ranting about. Deeming a subject change to be a good idea, Cyan said, "Setzer spoke of questions that thou mayest have."

That seemed to do the trick. "Ah, yes! I need a place to store the finished copies of my research before we head back out."

Cyan had half-way been expecting a question along these lines, "'Tis already taken care of. We've a room set aside for you."

Strago rubbed his hands together appreciatively while looking over the stacks on his desk, "Wonderful! That's good news. Good news indeed!"

"Might I be of service in transporting thy work," Cyan offered.

The old man raised a single bushy, white eyebrow and replied, "You can, if you think you can manage to carry my papers without messing them up."

It took two trips to get all of the documents moved from the airship to Strago's storage room. After they had retrieved the last sheaf of papers, Strago busied himself with organizing them and catching up on the latest news.

Cyan helped with the filing and stacking when possible as well as answering Strago's questions. Finally, an opening in the conversation came up, and Cyan asked him, "Aside from today's events, has thy journey been a good one?"

Strago stopped and looked up at the old knight, locking eyes with him, "It is never a bad journey when one is chasing his dreams."

Cyan took a moment to ponder Strago's response before asking, "What is thy dream?"

"I'm glad you asked," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "It's always been a dream of mine to chart the world. For as long as I can remember I've wanted to have maps of the terrain, the villages, and the landmarks. I never seemed to have the time or ability to do it, but I found that you just have to make the time and find the right help. If there's one thing that my granddaughter has taught me in my old age, it's that 'If you don't chase your dreams, no one else will.'"

That last statement hit Cyan like a bolt of lightning. The book in his hand paused halfway to its resting place on the shelf as Strago's words echoed off the inside of his skull.

The elderly scholar took note of Cyan's distraction and turned back to his work. Casually, he added, "So tell me, Cyan. What dream have you given up to stay and serve King Edgar."

The first statement had stunned him, but the second stripped away all the pride and false sense of duty that Cyan had left. The old knight lowered both the book and his head. In a quiet, meek voice, he replied, "How could I be happy when the city where my fathers are buried lies in ruins. Its gates have been destroyed and its survivors scattered." Cyan turned his head to address the man sitting in front of him, "I dream of seeing it rebuilt and restored to its former glory."

"Hmmm, a worthy dream indeed if I do say so myself," Strago replied with a wide smile. "I think we're done here. Let's get some lunch and talk a little more about this dream of yours."

"Thy grandfather spent the rest of that day speaking with me on the reconstruction of Doma. He challenged my fears with encouragement and all my doubts he answered with hopes." Cyan shifted in his chair and continued, "Yet, it still took a few days of pondering before I reached a decision on what to do."

Edgar began to chuckle, from his seat on the couch, drawing the attention of the entire room.

"Your Majesty," Cyan questioned. "Have I said something that amuses thee?"

Edgar continued to chuckle while shaking his head, "No. No, my friend. It's just that I remember Strago finding me two nights before you presented the Doma Reconstruction Proposal. He told me that he had you working on some sort of aid proposition for your former countrymen. It appears," Edgar said conspiratorially, "that he intended to help you chase your dream whether you did it willingly or kicking and screaming."

A ripple of laughter swelled in the cozy living room as Cyan's mouth dropped open. Even Clyde's eyes lit with amusement when Strago's deceitful coercion was brought to light.

When the merriment had died down and Cyan had recovered his composure, he once again addressed Relm, "My dear, the work I've started is far from finished, but I shall forever be grateful to thy grandfather for what he hath done. Thou sayest that he was supportive, but I will add that he was encouraging."

A murmur of agreement rose from various individuals around the room as they thought back on their own life and experience with the wise, old man.

Relm smiled at hearing the words of praise coming from the group. "Cyan, I'm glad my grandpa gave you direction in your life, and Setzer, I'm sorry he was such a hard companion to travel with."

Setzer gave a short laugh, "That day was actually an exception to the case. Your grandpa made a pretty good traveling buddy when he wasn't wielding that stick of his."

Relm caught herself almost giggling as she remembered her grandpa's propensity for carrying that heavy oak rod around for use as a conversation tool. A gurgling in her stomach brought her out of her thoughts and she realized that the sun had been down a while and she hadn't eaten all day. "I think I need to get something to eat. You guys feel free to join me," she said as she rose from her seat and headed toward the kitchen.

Gau was the first to jump at the invitation. "Warrooo, I thought we never eat," he said as he bolted after Relm. Terra and Lucian looked at each other and shook their heads. They had invested a lot of time teaching Gau how to speak and read and write. However, his social manners were still severely lacking. "We do what we can, love," Lucian said smiling warmly at his wife. "Can I get you anything from the kitchen?"

"I'm not that hungry," Terra replied, "but I'd really like some tea if you can find any.

Princess Rowena elbowed her husband, "Did you see that? Isn't he so sweet? I wish I had somebody that would offer to get me some tea."

"Funny you should mention that," Sabin grunted as he rubbed the site of the unexpected blow. "I was just about to ask you when I had the wind knocked out of me."

Following suit, with simpering looks and batting eyelashes, the ladies had emptied the room of men in a few short minutes. Each one set off on his mission to return with food or drink or both.

Selena watched until the last man entered the kitchen, then turned to the other ladies and said, "Goddesses bless chivalry!"

"May it never die," Celes added before the girls broke into laughter.

Hearing the girls' giggling in the other room prompted Locke to take a friendly jab at Lucian, "Man, you are whipped."

Lucian cocked an eyebrow at Locke as he continued filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove, "And you're not? I don't suppose you're fixing both of those plates for yourself."

The men broke into their own fit of laughter at the former thief's expense, and soon each of them began to fill their plates and trade stories about recent events taking place across the globe.

Relm was the first to return from the kitchen and resume her seat in front of the fire. On her plate were pieces of roasted chicken stuffed with herbs and spices. As Relm sat, tearing the golden skinned meat into smaller chunks, she cast a glance toward the famed opera singer that had accompanied Setzer. "Maria, I couldn't help but notice the lovely ring on your finger. Is it just an elaborate prop for one of your operas, or do you have some good news for us," she asked.

The eyes of every woman in the living room turned expectantly toward Maria. Each had wanted to ask the question, but hadn't felt it appropriate considering the current setting. Now that Relm had brought it up, they sat listening for the answer like a ravening pack of wolves.

Maria visibly relaxed, as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She raised her left hand and slowly wiggled her fingers before her eyes, seemingly mesmerized by the stone that captured the dancing light of the fire. "We wanted to tell you all, but we just didn't feel that this was the time or place. Setzer proposed to me! We're getting married!"

Amid high-pitched squeals of "congratulations", the pack converged on the maiden and the ring. The ruckus created in the living room was enough to drag the men out of the kitchen and toward the group of women huddled around the opera singer.

"All right," the silver-haired gambler said when he arrived at the edge of the circle, "give her some room. I don't want my fiancé smothered before I have a chance to make her life miserable."

Upon hearing the word "fiancé" the men began to offer up their "congratulations" as well as various comments about him giving up his wandering ways. Setzer smiled and took it all in stride, answering questions about when it happened and where he proposed, but the question that brought a sobering look to his face was when Sabin asked what had finally caused him to give up on bachelorhood.

"I guess I would have to contribute that to Strago," he replied while settling back into his chair beside Maria. The others took their cue and began heading back to their seats as he began the tale, "It all started just a few days after he went all hostile on me over his maps."

Setzer brought the airship low over Thamasa before landing in the large, green field outside the northern edge of town. By the time he had finished shutting down the engines and doing his post-flight checks, Strago was already climbing on board with his first load of supplies.

"Your late," the spry, old man noted as he unloaded an armful of pens and inkwells.

"Yes, my weekend was fine, thank you. How was yours," Setzer replied with a generous helping of sarcasm.

"Oh, it was fine," Strago answered in a snippy tone. "Why are you running so far behind today?"

Setzer stopped messing with the gauges and turned to face the old man, "Well, not that it's any of your business, but I stopped in Jidoor last night to take in an opera and…."

"Oh dear goddesses," Strago interrupted as he braced himself against the wall of the hallway and shook his head.

"What? What is your problem," Setzer asked suspiciously with more than a bit of frustration in his voice.

Strago let out a deep sigh, "It's just that we're already late on getting the Veldt survey started, and now you're going to be absolutely useless to me for the next few days."

Setzer began to get defensive about the baseless accusations that the old sage was throwing his way, "And just how do you figure that I'm going to be useless?"

Strago quickly retorted, "You'll be mooning around here like a love sick puppy, not paying a bit of attention to what you're doing. I'll have to go behind you and double-check everything you've done." He turned to head back for the rest of the supplies, "I just wish you'd do both me and her a favor and either start courting her or get over her."

The old man went down the ramp, leaving Setzer stunned and seemingly paralyzed at the top. Before Strago had reached the bottom of the gangplank, Setzer managed to shake himself free and hurl another comment at the old man's retreating back, "That's easy for you to say. You don't understand what I've been through."

Strago stopped and turned to fix the silver-haired pilot with a cold stare, "Boy, do you think you're the only one who's ever lost someone you love?"

The captain matched Strago's stare and replied, "What would you know about my losses, old man."

"Oh, Setzer, people talk," the exasperated sage replied. "I know this airship belonged to Daryl, and I know that she was the love of your life. I also know that you've been in a constant state of wandering ever since you found the Falcon's shattered remains, put it back together, and laid it to rest with her."

Strago started back up the ramp toward the gambler, "That's what I know, now here's what I believe. I believe that you've never settled down anywhere because you're afraid that you'll grow attached to someone and lose her like you lost Daryl. I also think that you're miserable, lonely, and empty because of it. Does that about sum it up?"

The two men were face to face now. Setzer's eyes wavered in pools of tears and his fists were clenched so tight that the knuckles turned white. Strago stood waiting, and finally, Setzer let out a deep shuddering breath. As he closed his eyes, twin tears raced down both cheeks only to meet and drip from his chin. "Yeah, that about sums it up," he replied in a broken voice.

A twinge of remorse crossed Strago's face as he continued, "Setzer, I'm sorry for being so blunt, but…"

"No, your right," he interrupted. "You're right about everything you said, but I can't just get over Daryl like that. I won't betray her memory just because of some interest I have in another woman."

"You misunderstand," Strago said holding up his hand. "I'm not telling you that you need to 'get over' Daryl. I am saying that if love has found it's way to you again, you shouldn't block it."

The tension drained out of Setzer's body as he looked up at Strago, "I don't understand what you're saying, old man."

Strago let his gaze drift to the ceiling above him and he began to smooth back his mustache with his left hand as he thought of a better way to explain things. After a moment, he said, "Here, let's try this. Over the years, you've spent a lot of time visiting with Terra and her adopted kids, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess so. I get to Mobliz when I can," he replied.

"Okay, so which of the kids do you love most," the old sage asked.

Setzer looked a little puzzled at the question, but finally answered, "I don't think that's fair to ask. All the kids are different. You can't compare one to the other, and you can't really compare the love you have for one against the love you have for another."

With a smile creeping across his face, and a finger pointed into the air, Strago said, "If its impossible to differentiate the love you have for kids, what makes you think you can differentiate the love you have for adults.

The epiphany was complete. Setzer could see the situation from a point of view that he never knew existed. He felt like a blind man seeing a sunset for the first time. "Is it true? I mean, does it really work that way," he asked as hope began to well up within him.

"That it does, my boy," Strago responded as his smile widened.

"But how do you know," Setzer pressed. "I've screwed up enough in my life. I don't want to tarnish the love I have for Daryl; that and this ship are the only things that I still have left of her."

"Don't worry about that, son. Your love for Daryl will survive, but your love for this opera singer can grow right beside it. Let's just say that I've had enough experience in this area to know what I'm talking about," he finished with a wink.

"Wait just a minute," Relm interrupted. "Are you saying that grandpa had a girlfriend?"

Setzer nodded his head, "That seems to be what he was implying. He never elaborated on the subject, but I'm sure that's what he was getting at."

Relm sat staring dumbfounded for a few seconds, then turned to her father, "Did you know about this?"

"I had my suspicions," he replied in a gruff voice. "Every time that widow Bartlett would come around, he put on quite a show for her. Moaning like he was in pain and getting her to stick around for the better part of the day to coddle him."

Relm turned her full body to face her father and with rapt attention asked her next question, "Well, did you see anything happening? Could you tell if they were, like, a couple or something?"

Clyde shook his head in disgust, "I never stayed when she came over. If I tried, she'd always usher me out of the house to go do something else. Besides, my ninja training prepared me for a lot of things, but one thing it didn't prepare me for was old people kissing." He gave a shudder, "I just don't think I could handle seeing that."

The whole room was dead silent as everyone stared at Clyde with expressions of shock on their faces. He returned the stare for a moment before finally saying, "Oh, come on people. It was a joke. How am I supposed to blend back into society if I can't even get anyone to laugh at my jokes?"

As if the floodgates had been opened, laughter began to spill into the room. No one really knew if it was about Strago having a girlfriend or Shadow trying to make a joke, but the laughter felt good; it cleansed the soul.

The group of friends laughed until their sides hurt and tears were coming from their eyes. Once the chuckles had died down, Relm wiped her face and turned back to Setzer and Maria. "Thank you for sharing that story about my grandpa. He was quite an amazing man. He's gone, and yet I'm still learning new things about him. Who would have ever thought that grandpa was a matchmaker?"

"Not I," said Setzer as he took Maria's hand. "But I'll forever be grateful that he was."

"As will I," Maria added as she snuggled in close to her gambler and placed her jewel-laden hand on his chest.

Celes admired the couple for a moment before remarking, "I'm so happy for you two. And, Maria, that is a beautiful ring!" Turning to her husband, with a pout on her lips, she added, "Honey, I want one of those."

Locke looked at the ring long and hard before turning to his wife, "Very well, sweetheart, I'll have it for you before the night is over."

Setzer covered the ring protectively and with mock indignity said, "You keep your hands to yourself, thief."

Followed quickly by Celes smacking the middle of her husband's chest and saying, "Locke Cole. That is not what I meant, and you know it!"

With a grunt and an impish smile, Locke took the hand that hit him and brought it to his lips, "Of course I know it, love. That was just too good an opportunity to pass up."

Celes' heart melted, as her husband brushed his lips across her knuckles. "I don't suppose I really need jewels, as long as I have you."

From across the room, Sabin made a gagging noise. "The level of mush in here is rising higher than I thought possible."

Princess Rowena shot her husband a look and said, "Well, I think it's sweet. I hope we're still as close as they are when we've been married that long."

Locke kept his wife's hand but turned his gaze to Sabin and Rowena, "Thank you, princess, but I've got to warn you, you don't get where we're at without a lot of work."

Celes chimed in, "Yes, and sometimes it takes a little outside help."

Locke looked back to Celes and she nodded to him, "Go ahead, honey. We might as well give credit where credit is due."

Locke drew Celes a little closer to himself and gave her a kiss on the brow, stopping to savor the scent of rose and jasmine in her hair. Turning back to the group, he began their story, "Strago was not just a match maker; he was a marriage saver. Believe it or not, there was a time when I figured it was my lot in life to live in a miserable, unhappy marriage."

"I know it may not seem like there was a time that we were miserable, but you didn't see us when we first started to forge our life together," Celes chimed in. The highly emotional night and her present condition had taken a toll on her body. She began to quake with small tremors as the bitter memories came to the surface. With a shaky voice and her eyes on the floor, she continued, "You didn't see the times when he would come home from his archeological digs and I would leave the room as soon as he entered because I couldn't stand the sight of him."

Locke turned his eyes toward his wife, hoping to will his strength into her so she could continue. After a moment, she looked back up at her friends and admitted the one thing she would have rather taken to her grave, "You didn't see the nights I cried myself to sleep because I didn't seem to know this man anymore."

All about the room, people were wearing expressions of disbelief and astonishment. Locke spoke up in support of his wife, "It's true. We both made so many mistakes in the first couple of years, that it didn't seem like there was a way to find happiness again. We may never have found our way back if it hadn't been for your grandpa."

Relm sat on the edge of her chair with eyes wide in disbelief. In her mind, Locke and Celes had always been a picture of true love. Hearing otherwise was unsettling to say the least.

Locke continued, "Life was a bed of roses until the fighting started. I was overprotective, and Celes was so independent that there was bound to be a clash at some point."

"They were infrequent, at first, but we didn't know how to talk about our problems," Celes added. "And I didn't know how to deal with what I was feeling. I was hurt, but I took it out on Locke by yelling at him."

"And when she did, I'd just withdraw. I thought that maybe if I could protect her from whatever was causing her stress, she would be happy again," Locke said. "It turned into a vicious cycle that drove a wedge between us."

Silence still reigned in the room as the group waited for the Coles to continue. The pause had just reached the point of being awkward when Celes finally spoke again, "I had given up. There was not a bit of hope left in me that anything good could come out of our union, and then Locke took that trip to Thamasa for the Ebot's Rock dig."

Locke broke into a light sweat as the nausea continued to build. His eyes were fastened to the distant mountain on Thamasa's island, but that did little to take away the effects of the waves rolling underneath the boat. Less than two hundred yards remained between the tiny boat and the sandy beach, but it felt like two hundred miles to him.

He breathed the briny air in through his nose and out through his mouth to try and control the sickness that was fighting to overtake him. "I've got to get my mind off this," he said to himself. With his eyes closed, Locke began to chronicle the artifacts that had been turned up at the entrance of the Ebot's Rock Cave. Before he had made it halfway through the list, he heard the hiss of sand caressing the bottom of the boat and felt himself lurch forward as they hit the shore.

Using the momentum, he bounded forward over the bow of the boat and landed on his knees in the sparkling white sand. With eyes closed and head bowed, Locke continued to fight the pitching and rolling that was still going on inside his body. After a few moments, the feel of solid earth began to seep through his body until his equilibrium was finally reestablished.

When he finally opened his eyes, there before him sat a grizzled old wizard with a wry smile on his face. "Welcome back, Professor Cole! I was hoping to buy you dinner before you left for home, but considering the greenish tint of your face, maybe you'll settle for just a drink."

Locke snapped his eyes shut and tried to wave away the thought of food. "I think an ale would be fine, just give me a few minutes, Strago."

"I've never understood why you get so sea sick," Sabin broke in.

"That's definitely another story for another time," Locke replied. "Thankfully, this was a very short bout of queasiness, and we found ourselves in the local pub within a couple of hours."

"How's my daughter doing," Strago asked over his mug. Ever since he took the place of Celes' father, giving her away at the Cole's wedding, he had continued to play the part of father for the young woman.

Locke's shoulders slumped, as his pleasant demeanor seemed to drain through the rounded, wooden legs of the chair and into the floor. "I wish I knew, Strago. She can't even stand to look at me anymore." The young treasure hunter raised his head and looked into the old sage's eyes. "I don't even know what I've done to hurt her. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets."

Silence descended over the table as Locke stared into his half-empty mug. He was so lost in his thoughts that minutes or hours could have passed before Strago spoke. "Hearing you talk reminds me of the early part of my marriage," he said with a far-away look in his eyes.

He waited while Locke fought through the haze that hung so thick in his mind. Strago knew he had Locke's full attention when the young adventurer said, "You had problems like this, too?"

The pain evident in Locke's face and words went straight to Strago's heart. "Sure did. Everyone does, you know."

Locke just sat and shook his head, "No, I don't know. I feel like everyone else is so happy, and we're absolutely miserable! Maybe it was a mistake."

The wise old man chuckled. "I'm sure it feels that way now, but you're only at the beginning. If someone had sat down with you before you entered Narshe to save that "Imperial Witch" and told you about everything you would go through before you reached Kefka, you might have thought it was a mistake to get involved."

Locke nodded as he thought about the hardship they endured through those years. Strago continued, "The fact is, once that adventure started, there was no turning back. This marriage is just the same. There'll be hardships, there'll be wounds you receive that will never heal, and there'll be joy the likes of which you've never known. The important thing is that you don't give up."

Still wrapped in his hopelessness, Locke replied, "But I am trying. I've tried to protect her from the things that can hurt her, and it's just not working."

"Then change what you're doing, Locke. I know you want to protect her from the world, son, but there comes a time that you're going to have to protect her from yourself."

A light seemed to come on in his head as Strago continued, "You're going to have to get the communication going again and to do that you need to sit down and listen to her. She may lash you nine ways from Sunday with her words, but you need not say a word in defense of yourself, just listen."

This was a strange train of thought for him, but Locke was getting it. His full attention was focused on the sage as if Strago was his last lifeline. "Then what?"

"Then, you act on what she's been talking to you about. You be that man she needs, and you do it consistently. It might take weeks, months, maybe even years to get past this. But, you be that rock for her."

"That's it," he asked a little skeptically.

"No, that's just the beginning," Strago chuckled in reply. The rest will begin to work itself out as she sees that you are consistent and trustworthy. Those lines of communication will open back up, and you'll understand each other on a level you never have before."

"I left him that day with more hope than I had in months," Locke said as he and Celes entwined their fingers.

"And I certainly did my best to wreck that hope when he got home," she said as she stared into her lover's eyes. "I lashed out at him, as soon as he walked through the door, but something strange happened. He didn't strike back at me."

Locke settled back further into the couch as his wife continued. "I thought that it was just an anomaly, but then the next day it was the same way, and I started to see other changes in his behavior. I'll spare you the gory details, but after a few months I began to feel like I could say anything to him, and he would actually hear me."

She stole a glance at her partner and then looked back to the group. "I actually found myself wanting to find things to talk with him about! I didn't know what caused the change, but a year or so later I found out that Strago had given Locke the guidance he needed to mend our hearts."

Celes' hands couldn't keep up in their futile attempt to free her face of tears, and neither could the other women sitting around the room. "We could never thank your grandfather enough for what he did for us," she said with a broken voice.

The room was silent for a time, save for the occasional sniff as the group of Returners worked to regain their composure. In the midst of that relative silence, it was Terra's husband that spoke out. "I don't mean to talk out of turn," he said, "But your grandfather meant a great deal to me as well."

King Edgar looked toward his Veldt Marshall and admonished, "Lucian, you know you are just as much a part of this group as the rest of us. It makes no difference that you are a recent addition." The rest of the group nodded their hearty approval. After all, there were now almost as many ex-imperials in their little band as there were original Returners.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he replied. "Strago said as much to me in the limited time I had to know him. He also taught me one of the most valuable lessons I've learned in life…

Strago grunted as he settled into the soft, high back chair in front of the blazing hearth. A contented smile graced his aging features, even though his tea was now completely cold. The wood crackled as the open flame slowly ate away at it, and the elder mage let out a long sigh.

"Don't act like you're worn out," Lucian said, as he stumbled through the doorway. His shirt and pants were soaked in various large patches, and a wet towel hung limply over his right shoulder. "It can't be nearly as tiring to tell the story of the Battle at Folsom Beach, as to try and bathe the children who are reenacting it."

Strago merely chuckled as Terra's husband sat down on the hearth and attempted to dry himself out. His monthly visit to the orphanage was always a greatly anticipated event by both him and the children. It was the one weekend that they got to stay up late three nights in a row and listen to 'Grandpa Magus' stories. And it was one weekend he was sure to have a captive audience that hung on his every word. "They're precious ones," he commented, with a twinkle in his aged eyes.

"That they are," Lucian agreed with his tired gaze distantly fixed on the floor. "But they do wear me out, on occasion."

"No doubt they do," Strago replied. "And I don't expect that will get any easier with your new one on the way," he added with a sly grin.

Lucian's head snapped up, his clear blue eyes fervently locked on the old man, "Terra told you about that?"

"Nope," he said with a broad smile on his face, "you just did."

Lucian ran his foot along a crack in the stone floor and let out a sigh, "I suppose we'd only be able to hide it for so long."

Strago pulled his feet down off the ottoman and leaned forward with a sober look on his face, "What's to hide, boy? Where I come from, it's cause to celebrate when a new little life comes into the fold!"

"Oh, believe me, I'm happy enough for both of us," the man said, lifting his hands. "It's just that…we're not quite sure how to tell the other children. I mean, this will be our baby, our own flesh and blood, and as much as we love our kids, they will always know that they are adopted. What if this new child causes hurt feelings or problems with the others? What if we show more love or favoritism to this one? What if…"

"Sounds like there's too much 'what if' if you ask me," the elder man interrupted. Sitting back in the comfy chair, Strago took a long draw from his cup and cleared his throat. "Let me tell you a story," he said.

"Oh dear goddess, another story," Lucian asked, in mock exasperation.

"I'm your elder, shut up and listen," Strago ordered. "Once there was a lovely young woman, as vibrant as the day is long. She dedicated her life to upholding what was good and right, and showing love to all those that crossed her path."

Strago paused and took another sip, "One day, she was abducted; taken from those who loved her and depended on her, and thrust into a prison cell a long, long way from her home."

"Please don't," Lucian interrupted, all hint of mirth gone from his being. "I'm not the same person I was back then, and I'd rather not relive that time."

"Hush, young one. There's a point to my story," he continued. "Her friends hastily came together and mounted a rescue attempt, only to find that another man had fallen in love with her and come to her aid. That same man has faithfully been by her side these past years and has never wavered in his devotion to her or the children they take care of."

"I…I don't understand," Lucian said, searching the old man's face.

"My point is…that's the type of man you are, Lucian. No matter how you started out your life, you made a commitment to love our dear Terra and you have stuck to it. I can see that you have also made a commitment to love these children, and there's no denying it. I see it in your tenderness and in your actions. The love you have for this new child will not diminish your love for the children you have now. That's the type of man you are."

"But don't you think there will be differences," he asked, a little skeptically.

"Of course there will be differences," the elder mage replied. "But there are differences now. You don't have the exact same relationship with little Caroline as you do with Jake, and yet you love them both."

Lucian sighed and leaned back against the warm stones of the living room hearth. "You're right, Strago. I guess you're right about all of it."

"Of course I'm right," he scoffed. "I'm a veritable fount of knowledge and wisdom! Now, if you don't mind, go get me some warm tea with a bit of lemon and honey. I've been drinking this cold stuff long enough!"

"And he was right," Lucian continued. "All my worries and concerns were for nothing. Your grandfather helped me see that it's not so important how we start, but how we finish."

"Here, here," said Locke Cole, drawing a chuckle from the entire group. The thief-turned-respected professor personified this as much as any of them.

Terra gave Relm one last squeeze before getting up and heading to her husband's side. "Thank you for sharing that memory, I was hoping you would," she said nestling in beside him.

"Yes," came a gruff voice from across the room. "It reminds me a bit of my relationship with the old man," Clyde said. "Strago obviously knew the value of love and family…even when his own family didn't deserve it."

All eyes turned to look at Relm's father. His scarred face, in previous times hidden beneath a mask, showed a measure of the painful life that the assassin had endured. He held those features in a completely emotionless stare, save for the glimmer of a tear that threatened to escape his eye. Relm tentatively placed her hand on his knee and Clyde bowed his head, covering her slender hand with his own. After a moment of silence, he cleared his throat and continued on in a cracked voice, "I made a lot of mistakes in my life…too many to bring up. I don't know how bad the consequences would have been were it not for the old man. He took me in at a point in my life where I needed to change paths. For some sick reason, the goddesses rewarded his kindness by allowing me to fall in love with his daughter. Against his better judgment, we were married. Happiness reigned for a time, especially with the addition of a baby girl," he said, stealing a glance at Relm.

"Then the Empire came and took Anna away for genetic testing. As was the custom here, no one put up a fuss except me. After weeks of hearing nothing, I left my daughter in the care of her grandfather and traveled there myself. Strago and some of his friends found me a few days later, beaten to a pulp and dragging myself home. He physically nursed me back to health, but there was no healing for my spirit. That was the beginning of my descent into darkness."

The room was silent, waiting for him to go on. Clyde took a deep breath and continued, "'She lost her mother, don't make her lose a father as well', he told me. I was too out of my mind with rage to hear him. So I left her in his care and set out to find my wife or destroy those who took her. I didn't care which came first. And after years of failure, I became so consumed with the destruction that I closed off the life I once knew."

"Though I'm thankful he did it, it should have never been his job to raise my daughter. He should have been a proud, doting grandfather, not a surrogate dad," he paused and looked at Relm, then back to those seated around the room. "I told him as much a year or so ago when I came back. Do you know what he told me? He could have said 'I told you so' or unloaded the years of anger and frustration he experienced, but he simply said, 'She still needs a father.' And it caused my cold, dead heart to break."

Relm turned her hand over and laced her fingers through those of her father's. Clyde fixed his cold blue eyes on her and continued, "You're Grandpa was the finest man I ever knew. It was an honor of mine to stay with him and watch over him this last year. I hope that in the years to come, I'll somehow find a way to be half the man he was."

The entire room held their peace while father and daughter wrapped their arms around each other and wept. The entire room, that is, except for one young, unruly man who waited for a moment then announced, "Waroooo, Why you so sad and make such fuss? Strago in Big Hunting Ground in the sky! He seeing new animals, new plants, new people. He happy as can be!"

Weeping turned to smiles and then laughter as Gau's simple statement cut through the loss and emptiness to highlight Strago's new adventure in the Great Beyond. "You're right, Gau," Relm said. "He's probably overjoyed to be with Mom and Grandma and all his friends who have gone on."

"That right," the wild boy said, standing from the rug. "He spoke to Gau many times about what be on the other side."

"He did," Relm questioned, perking up.

"Mmm-Hmm," he nodded. "When he come to talk about monsters and animals, we talk long time about many other things too. He write down many things Gau say…he treat me better than other people. He treat me like I important."

Relm nodded, "That's how Grandpa was...but it seems like he had a much busier life than I was aware of."

Prince Sabin, who had remained mostly silent until now spoke up, "Yeah, that's probably my fault. A few years back, I approached him about the creation of a University to gather and store as much knowledge as possible. After all, the best way to avoid future mistakes is to learn from the past. I just wanted to tell him that we'd like to name the University in his honor, but he was determined to contribute more than just a name. He said, 'If it's going to have my name, then it's going to have the most accurate information available, and I'm the only one who can provide that.'"

The young lady smiled, "Yes that sounds exactly like him."

Unable to contain her exhaustion anymore, Celes covered her mouth and tried to stifle a yawn which then travelled around the room like a wildfire in early June. Relm noticed her own tiredness as well as the early morning hour, "I'm so tired, and the rest of you must be too. I think I need to go to bed, but please stay here as long as you like. I know there are rooms on the Falcon, but you're welcome to use what rooms we have here."

The Returners began shuffling and rising from their various seats to offer Relm one last hug before heading toward their accommodations. The Coles were the last to arrive and the last to leave. Celes leaned over and embraced the young lady as best she could, "You stay strong, sweetheart. I'm sure your Grandpa is more than proud of you. We'll all be here for you."

"Thank you, Celes," she replied, that spark of life once again evident in her tired eyes.

"Anything you need, kiddo, you let us know," Locke said, giving her a one armed squeeze.

"I will, though I think I'm going to be OK," Relm replied, casting a glance toward her father.

Each couple seemed to enjoy their own space, and spoke in whispers as they headed back toward the Falcon during the early morning hours. Locke put his arm around his wife and felt her shiver against him, "See, there was nothing to worry about."

Celes nodded, keeping her eyes on the path in front of them, "Do you think she'll be ok?"

Turning onto the main thoroughfare, Locke guided them back toward their lodging. "I'm sure of it," he said with conviction. "It seems like Clyde is really stepping in, and besides, she'll always have the rest of us."

"You're right," Celes replied. "She'll always have the rest of us."