DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF MUKHANEN, HEZZLEI AND EDGECOMBE. THE CHARACTERS DEPICTED APART FROM THE THREE I MENTIONED ARE ALL PROPERTY OF SQUARE-ENIX.
Hi guys! I worked really hard to inject some humour into this tale as well as hints of seriousness so enjoy! And RATE!! :D
Chapter One: The Tribe of the White Masks
In the darkness of a lone cave…in the Southern Reaches of Gaia, we find...
A pair of anciently dressed individuals, wearing suspicious white masks, shuffled uneasily. They weren't exactly keen on wearing this kind of thing, but in the end the job they were about to do was going to compensate greatly for their uneasiness.
One said, making sure his cloak was on properly; "The time for the Warrior Princess's arrival has come."
Ancient tradition meant so much to these people, that even stating the obvious was a requirement. There were some things you simply had to do.
"Yes," replied the other individual, clearly a female speaker. A few moments passed as the female mask-wearer searched for an additional comment.
"It will be a dramatic arrival, I suspect?" she said thoughtfully.
The other mask-wearer, who was no doubt male, cleared his throat.
"Indeed," he said, "we will go to the city and seek out this princess. We will make her realise the importance of her position."
"So, in the reality of things, we are arriving to her?" said the female ancient, sounding strangely pleased with herself.
The male ancient seemed to consider this for a moment and said: "Yes, that would be right."
The two seemed rather alert when they heard a couple of footsteps coming from the depths of the caves. However, they soon settled themselves down into easiness.
There he was – the apparent leader of the white masked ancients. You could easily tell this because he wore ceremonial armour decorated with a stunning phoenix symbol. It was clear that whoever made these costumes were darn good with a sewing machine.
"My brothers," he started dramatically.
The female mask-wearer gave a little "Ahem!"
"Or rather, my siblings," he corrected himself, "the time has come to begin the revival of the Warrior Princess. Let us use the teleportation spell as written in An Anthology of Materia Magic."
The group nodded.
They extended their hands and shouted: "Warp omega!"
The group disappeared behind a blinding flash…
Cloud sat at the Seventh Heaven bar, his nose in a good book. To be honest, he was never a keen reader, but Tifa suggested that Cloud do something a little different, especially considering the winter days were on their way.
The book was actually quite decent, Cloud had to admit. Whilst it sort of broke the 'cool guy' image he prided himself of being associated with, it did lure him in.
The cover of the book read in dull colours: "FACTS OR FICTION: AMAZING ANCIENT MYTHOLOGY."
His personal favourite part was the part about the Tribe of the White Masks. It was said that they ruled a small portion of the world with a Warrior Princess. Nobody dared commit treason against the Warrior Princess because the Tribe of the White Masks believed that she contained the power of an omnipotent goddess. The tribe was eventually defeated by some of the more powerful kingdoms, but they swore that they would one day return and claim vengeance.
It was at that point that Cloud closed the book – it was becoming just a little farfetched. All of a sudden, Tifa entered the bar, carrying a few bags of shopping.
She smiled amusedly as Cloud dismissively put his book on the bar.
"You okay?" she said, putting down her shopping on the bar and at the same time, trying to stop smiling.
"I guess reading's not as bad as I thought," smiled Cloud weakly.
"See?" said Tifa, feeling pleased for Cloud, "I told you that you'd enjoy it!"
Cloud went over to Tifa and peered curiously over her shoulder at the shopping she bought.
He took something out at random and examined it curiously.
"Chocolate Materia Balls?" he muttered, "what will they think of next?"
"That's for later," said Tifa amusedly, snatching the chocolate balls from Cloud's grasp.
"Speaking of later," said Cloud, feeling in a flirtatious mood, "do you wanna sit down to a movie tonight?"
"Yeah, why not?" said Tifa happily, but then she just remembered something, "Don't you have some deliveries to make this afternoon."
Cloud smacked his forehead.
"Damn!" he exclaimed in surprise, "I almost forgot!"
"Maybe tomorrow night, yeah hun?" suggested Tifa kindly.
"You've got yourself a date," nodded Cloud.
Suddenly, the door of the bar swung open and in came three mask-wearing figures that looked as though they didn't know the meaning of the words 'social skills'.
Cloud tried incredibly hard to stop laughing, whilst Tifa approached them kindly.
"I'm sorry," she smiled gently, "we're closed on Sundays – maybe you could come tomorrow?"
The most imposing one of the three stepped forward, whilst the other two shuffled their feet nervously in a manner that suggested that they weren't used to this kind of environment.
"I come in peace," said the apparent leader of the three, "we have travelled far to come and see you."
"Um, actually, we just used mater―" began the male masked accomplice.
The female ancient kicked his leg and the male masker groaned quietly.
"We must let the Warrior Princess know that we used great effort to reach her," she whispered, "she will not be impressed if we used some clumsy shortcut!"
Tifa looked at the leader's two companions suspiciously.
"Is everything alright?" she wondered, a slight hint of concern in her voice.
"Don't mind them," said the leader in an apologetic tone.
Cloud approached the mask-wearers with interest.
"It's a bit early for Halloween, isn't it?" he said impolitely.
"Cloud!" hissed Tifa, annoyed at the rudeness of her childhood friend.
Cloud stuck his hands in the air.
"I surrender!" he joked, "I'll just go and, uh, clean my bike," he added as he walked away.
"So what was it that you wanted?" asked Tifa curiously.
"Do forgive us," said the leader, "we are the Tribe of the White Masks. I am Mukhanen; these two are my brother and sister, Edgecombe and Hezzlei respectively."
The two siblings looked at one another and then bowed to Tifa in a respectful manner.
"We have come to tell you of your destiny, my Warrior Princess," explained Mukhanen, "we wish for you to lead the Tribe of the White Masks as your ancestors did millennia ago."
"Excuse me?" said Tifa confusedly.
"This may seem slightly startling at first, my Warrior Princess," admitted Mukhanen, "but you cannot simply dismiss your destiny. Your ancestors would never have thought of such a thing."
"Is this some kind of hoax?" said Tifa, "how did you find me?"
"Our genetic make-up allows us to feel the DNA of a Warrior Princess no matter how far away she may be," explained Mukhanen informatively, "it's like a calling, one that led us to you."
Tifa couldn't believe a word of it.
"I think you may have the wrong person," she said politely.
"No! I can feel it!" said Hezzlei insistently, "my senses…I mean, our senses are never wrong!"
Tifa cleared her throat nervously.
"We're closed," she said at once, unable to think of anything else to say.
"No! We cannot leave without the Warrior Princess!" argued Edgecombe defiantly.
"I know who I am," said Tifa gently, "I've known who I am for many years. I must ask you three to leave."
"Then this will be something you'll come to regret," muttered Mukhanen disappointingly.
The three tribes people walked out of the bar, their heads sunk.
Weird, Tifa thought, maybe I should have called Edge Psychiatric Ward instead and got them to wait.
