Chapter 1: Of horses and nutjobs

"Vanille!" Sazh cried as he tried to reach out to her. They were all floating, while Fang and Vanille were falling. What's happening?

Vanille smiled encouragingly at her friends. Her heart knew what will come, and somehow, she wasn't scared anymore. Her eyes met Fang's, never betraying each other to glimpse away. No words were needed, save for a simple nod and tighter grips. She felt an overwhelming surge of power coursing through her veins and flowing through her hands and to Fang's and then back again.

Then everything went utterly bright and dark at the same time. She never felt so peaceful and sleepy. She gave in to the nostalgia taking her and everything went blank.

Open your eyes. A gift is beheld. A life is given.

The grass, its faint whispers, rough texture, and leafy scent, awakened her eternal and minute slumber. Her chest rose and fall and seemed her whole world as it beat down to the soft ground. Her slow breathing, even and calm, was all there is and she lay there for a long while. She couldn't count how long, for the moments seemed all too fast and slow. She forgot how time passes. She slowly opened her eyes. Everything was still dim but instantly light came to her eyes, if only for a little amount. Everything seemed hazy and blurry that she took no notice to the image forming and concentrated on the scent of the wind and earth, and the warmth of the sun kissing her body. Blue sky stretched limitless. Her eyes finally focused. She took a breather and her heart came to a normal steady beat.

"Mmph," she moaned as she tried to get up. "Oh," she let herself say as her lips formed a gentle sound. A smile played on her lips and a gasp escaped her. "Well Vanille, what a scene we are in," she exclaimed to herself cheerfully, "Oooh," she stretched her limbs and felt the air breezing again and whipping her soft curls. "What a beautiful place! Fang, isn't it lovely? Everything is all nature-y and–" she stopped as she turned around. "Fang?" The Pulsian warrior was nowhere to be found. "Am I alone?" she feared for the answer, "Fang! Where are you?"

Fang didn't answer. Where could her friend be? She felt so alone yet not lonely, at least not yet. "Come on Vanille. You can do this," she consoled herself. "Everything will be all right, you'll see. On we go. Let's look around," she laughed as the sudden fear went away quickly. She checked for her gear and found her weapons and accessories still clasped in her clothes.

She started to wander through the fields and followed a seeming trodden path. It went straight forward and soon, Vanille's thoughts wandered to this part of Gran Pulse. Where could she be? She never saw this scenery before but she was sure it wasn't Cocoon. The place is just too nature-y, just the way she liked it. She found herself laughing and humming to herself to keep occupied. Night wore on and she noticed at the setting of the sun that she was going east. Hunger crept to her eventually and settling on the nearest tree, she ate her fill and drank a flask of water. Her provisions, ever since they ventured to Orphan's cradle, had dwindled. She had to forage for something soon. In the meantime, her rations could still last for three or even five days if she was careful. She was glad her crystal slumber didn't spoil her food. Immediately, she fell asleep at the moonlight.

The next morning wore on after Vanille ate again and set off to follow this unknown path. She had to go somewhere and with a path, she was sure she'll run into someone and hope to know where she is and should they know of her company. She rested by the shade after many hours of walk to catch a breather at the warm afternoon sun. She took a nap and rose at parting sunset. She continued her walk at the cool night, occasionally munching a few bites when her stomach protested. The long journey she made with Lightning and the company proved to be a great boon for in the next three days, all she ate were her rations and not a single meal was eaten too much for quantity. She picked some berries, though not the kind she knew, along the way since they smell nice enough. She planned to try them later should they prove palatable.

On her fourth day of journey, she came to a forest and on the fifth to a river. She breathed a sigh of relief. Her water has been running low yesterday. She ran up to the shallowest stream and drank her fill. Then she refilled her water. She lingered a bit more by the river bank and washed her face. The water was cool and refreshing. "Ah! That feels nice!" she exclaimed. She pulled off her boots and dipped her feet to the running water and splashed every now and then. She hummed again her tune that reminded her of Oerba, her home.

Soon though, the sun wavered again and Vanille went off once more. The stars glistened brighter as she walked deeper into the woods. The leaves seemed not to cover them but frame them to an all the more picturesque image. She noticed her head was held up more often now and stopped more to marvel at the sky. Finally, weariness came to her and she settled at the nearest boulder and soon fell asleep.

Day came and went and now Vanille wandered for a week. She was getting weary and more worried at Fang's predicament. A week and not a single human in sight! "Apparently, this paths are not so known or travelling isn't a high time," she said to herself. "But the day is so fine to walk into nature. Pulse isn't all that–"

She suddenly heard heavy footfalls. She looked back at the road and made out the distant image galloping fast. The beast were certainly not chocobos, they were white and brown, and looked more of Lightning's gestalt Odin, Sleipnir. Fear cautioned her and she quickly hid from the trees. Soon enough, the riders stopped. They laughed and sang to each other and the voice that beheld them cast a comforting soothe to Vanille's heart.

'Such a beautiful voice,' she thought to herself. One of the beasts nuzzled its head toward her direction. Out of surprise, Vanille stepped back and immediately, dreadfully regretted it. Her foot caught a twig and the splintering sound echoed horribly throughout her ears.

The company went quiet. Vanille held her breath. 'Way to go Vanille,' she sourly scolded herself, 'now you're in for a fight.'

One of them got down and went to her direction. "Who goes there?"

Fang remembered quite well eternal 'salvation' didn't get hold of her. She simply closed her eyes at the burning light Ragnarok emitted within her and Vanille. When she opened her eyes, a forest greeted her. Where is she? She gripped her spear tighter and examined her surroundings. Wait a minute– "Vanille?" her friend was nowhere in sight. She growled frustratingly at the repeating event. Vanille is gone and she has to look for her in this far wide planet. Again. Sweet Maker, why such fate?

Fang wasn't the brooding type however and suddenly noticed the air was quiet, too quiet for a forest. There should be some animal making a noise, no matter how small, and her instincts told her to assume caution. Vanille is definitely nowhere in near radius, for the young woman is always loud on her own, so no point calling her name again. Something is definitely amiss–

One whip of wind was enough for her. She raised Kain's Lance just barely to block the bow and arrow two feet away from her face and aim her weapon at the bowman in front of her. Seven or more aimed at her throat, sideways and back. She didn't back down but kept silent, resilient at the turning of events.

"What brings you here, stranger?" Fang was quite sure what she heard was right. This 'man' is either trying to speak and failing horribly or Gran Pulse has some far distant land no one knows about. His accent was thicker than her comprehension. Why, even Sazh and Snow could pull a better accent than this.

She remained silent, not trusting any of them. "Do you not understand the Common Speech?" another asked.

Her eyes narrowed. "Yeah, I heard ya. And I bloody understand what ya said. Thing is, I don't have any answers for that."

"Lower your weapon, woman, and we'll lower ours."

She snorted. "Like I'm an idiot; you guys are what? Twenty? Tch. Lower yours first and maybe I'll put my toy down." They lowered theirs without hesitation. Fang had to raise her brow in surprise. "Ok, didn't expect that." She lowered her weapon and smirked. "Though the others at the tree aren't all too willing."

"This is our home and we have every right to keep it safe from any danger. Who are you and where do you come from?"

"Fang. Gran Pulse," she replied. The look everyone gave her made her roll her eyes. "Never heard the place?"

"We know every land, castle, and forest here in Middle Earth and not a single place is named in such a manner, less so the name itself. You are in Greenwood, or Mirkwood as it is now known to men, for dark tidings have come to pass in this land. You are within Lord Thranduil's halls."

"Right… and you are?"

"His kin, an elf sworn to his liege."

Elladan got ready for his sword, ready to fight. He was expecting the worst, a band of orcs or a group of thieving men. His brother not so much far pulled out an arrow and aimed at the incoming beast.

The leaves and bush rustled as something or someone made its way. Elladan gripped his sword harder.

Soft red curls and pink greeted his eyes. It was a young lady, barely in her womanhood. She had light green eyes and quite a fair skin though a bit tanned due to the sun's warmth. Her hair was bright red and tied in half each to her shoulders. She looked at them in shy, wonder, fear, and awe.

Vanille never saw a human so fair like them. "Oh," she couldn't help but say. She loosened her hold on her wand at her back and clasped both her hands on her chest and grinned in amazement. She didn't felt scared at their company though the two in front had their weapons pointing at her. "Oh."

Elladan lowered his sword but did not let go. She may not be the fairest sight his eyes laid upon, for his beauty only held to her mother Celebrían, but her look of wonder at the sight of elves lightened his heart. "Who are you?"

Vanille smiled in the nicest way she could muster and introduced herself. "My name is Oerba dia Vanille, though you could skip the Oerba dia part. I'm from Oerba, hence my name, a once land of Gran Pulse."

The man in front of her looked confused at her words. "There is no land claimed as Oerba nor Grand Pulse. Do you take me for a fool?" he said the last part rather seriously and Vanille knew he felt he was insulted at the seeming blunt lie.

But it was the truth. Vanille looked pleading. "Please, I just want to find my friend. Her name is Oerba yun Fang, or simply Fang. I'm sorry but I don't know where I am."

They seem to pity her for their eyes softened. "It seems a long journey has befallen you young lass. Comfort it seems deems best for your weary soul. I am Elladan and this is my brother Elrohir," he beckoned to the man likened to him. "We are the sons of Elrond half-elven and on our way to Rivendell, our home. Will you not come with us?"

"Rivendell? Is that on Cocoon?" The name for Vanille sounds more Cocoon-ish that Pulsian.

"Cocoon? Such a strange name. No, it is not. But a cocoon it could be for it protects what is preserved so frail inside. Should it enlighten you so, you are in Middle Earth."

Elrohir came forward with his horse. He smiled warmly. "Come Vanille, I shall bear you. My brother is already laden with his own burden of carrying most of our things." Elrohir got down as well and offered Vanille to sling first. "Have you ridden on horses?"

"So that's what it's called," she replied aloud. "No. But chocobos are bigger than these and I've ridden them." She swung lightly to the horse's back. Its fine fur, unlike chocobo feathers, proved to be less comfortable. She squirmed for a bit before settling.

Meanwhile, the brothers had to keep the urge of laughing at her antics and looking away. Vanille seemed to notice the action. "What's wrong?"

"My lady, has your land deemed clothes to be scarce?" Elrohir inquired amusedly.

Vanille caught on quickly. She huffed. "I'm very comfortable in these. What's wrong with it?"

Elladan shook his head. "Never mind, young lady. Let us ride and meet our father. He will gladly provide more subtle clothes for you."

Fang never figured out how these crazy people claiming to be elves got her to walk deeply further to the woods. The branches and trunks twisted and turned like a foreboding omen yet they trod on and their way opened like the forest cleared a path for them. Fang tried to recount their path but all seemed lost in these woods. They didn't bother tying her up as well. She walked rather freely and with her spear still in hand.

She tried to gather her thoughts. Is this all amnesia again, explaining Vanille's disappearance? She tried to remember but the sight of Lightning, Vanille and finally Ragnarok only went through her mind.

Now that her mind is delving, she finally noticed once you get to hang with these folks, Fang noted how nimble and light these people walk and how graceful and elegant they seem to go. They all bore jet black hair and deep gray eyes. They were the perfect image of regal grace and poise.

She followed left and right before finally halting to what seemed like a hall made of trees and forest. Now, Fang is entirely convinced these people claiming elves are in serious head damage. This is surely Gran Pulse. The architecture, though a great deal more beautiful, still held the basic design of Pulse, close to nature and humankind.

They stopped at a clearing. Another person was there but unlike the others, he was dressed in a grander fashion and possessed a circlet on his head. 'This must be the leader of the nutjobs,' Fang thought dryly, 'Lord Thranduil, eh?'

"State your name." Thranduil's voice was deep and commanding but not enough to pierce her heart to quaver.

"Fang. You?"

A narrow sword easily went its way to her throat. "How dare you speak to the Lord of Mirkwood in such fashion?" the leader of Fang's company hissed. Fang rolled her eyes.

"Peace," he held his hand up to lower the leader's weapon. "This child does not yet know who she is dealing with."

And that is strike three, screw the second and first. It was one to thing to be dragged into some place full of crazy people but it is another to be insulted as somewhat to be treated lightly. Fang's blood was boiling with indignation. She's the strongest of their company in Pulse and this crazy lord claims she does not know who she's dealing with? "First, I have no business with you and your crazy people. Second, I'm sure I can take out this cavalry the minute I strike. Third, I don't like you. Not. One. Bit."

"You think you can take us?" the leader repeated half amused.

As if on cue, a person appeared, sprinting with the wind. Fang took note he was the fairest elf she ever saw. And the fact she had described a 'him' fair.

"We're attacked," he called out. "We need more reinforcements."

Fang's guards immediately left her at the signal of the lord. Fang glanced at Thranduil and smirked. "Let me show you, lord, who exactly you are dealing with." She traced the mark of her brand and then it glowed bright. The elves grew silent in a seeming fear, awe and amazement. Arrows were released at her rash behavior. All seemed for naught as the weapons thrown were blocked by the blinding light as it grew larger. "Bahamut!" Fang called out her eidolon.

Out came from thin air a dragon so magnificent and large. Fang climbed nimbly on top of it and out it sped to the company's direction to the fight. It arrived just in time. Both elves and creatures Fang never saw scrambled away at the sight of her beast, tugging a vicious smug on her lips. She smirked as she landed neatly to the ground, striking three monsters at her landing. Bahamut cleared another three.

The group came charging towards her. She waited for her breath to catch up. She did two blitzes and attacked. She changed immediately to her sentinel role and did two quick steelguard, enough to take the least damage the monsters were inflicting upon her. Bahamut gave a war cry and sent the attackers flying. With their stagger held in place, Fang switched to her Ravager role and casted froststrike and flamestrike in alternate roles. They staggered at the repeating attacks and Fang took this the opportunity to switch to saboteur and cast slowga. With the enemy weakened, Fang brandished her weapon. "No mercy!" she shouted her battle cry before doing Highwind. Bahamut was now ready for gestalt mode and Fang climbed onto him once more to summon Megaflare. With a single swept, all the enemies died in Fang's range.

The rest of the enemy retreated. The elves, fending off the last of the creatures, stopped with caution to examine this dark woman. The creature in her stead seemed to have disappeared all too suddenly at her call. This woman is dangerous should she prove to be against them. But she didn't and instead killed the orcs in their stead.

Fang really wanted to rub it all to these nuts. 'That'll teach them to mess with me,' she smirked to herself. "Dealing with the wrong person now, eh?"

"Our utmost apologies, Lady Fang," one of the elves bowed low. It took Fang two seconds to realize this was the same one who pointed his sword at her throat. "You have proven your quality at our aid. Would you be in Lord Mithrandir's steed of our trouble?"

Fang's thoughts wildly stared at the name they provided. These people are beyond crazy. "You seriously lost your bonkers. But ok, I'll play your little game. No, I am not sent by anybody."

The elves remained silent on how to take this new information. Clearly, they still haven't accepted Fang's under treatment to them and her mysterious origin. She was taken back to Thranduil's halls. The elven lord seemed unimpressed at her skills, no matter how much the elves report her cause. Fang never felt so frustrated before. Her anxiety is building up. Even the cavalry on Cocoon was way better with this insanity. Vanille is gone; she's lost, and stuck with them.

"Look, can I just go?" Fang blurted out at the silence. "I really need to find Vanille and get back to Gran Pulse."

"Lady Fang, you may have proven your side of the war but you to be let loose prove to be much dangerous," Thranduil replied, "You might be a spy of the Dark enemy, or one of the Haradrim, dark in skin. No, it would prove us more ill to lose you in my hand. Therefore, you shall accompany my son until Lothlorien. From there, you shall meet the Lady Galadriel and she shall see things most fit to you."

An elf stepped out of the shadows of the trees. He bore a striking resemblance to the king, though younger in eyes of experience. He bowed low. "I am Legolas, son of Thranduil lord of Mirkwood."

"Great," Fang muttered under her breath. "I have another nutjob."