Note(s): Erm...This is just a short story I wrote a while ago...It is my first Final Fantasy IX story, so please, if anyone reviews, be fair...Constructive criticism is appreciated, of course, but please, say it nicely...Um...Anyway, I hope the story is alright...!
'Those Thoughts That Wander'
For who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish, rather, swallowed up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated night,
Devoid of sense and motion? – John Milton: Paradise Lost
The early autumn morning was unusually calm and still. A vast field of dry-brown grass undulated above a frosting of previously fallen snow. As the eye traveled, the landscape blended slowly into the sheer blue-white snow upon the horizon. The purple shadows that the long row of mountains cast accented their majesty, and as the sun rose higher they seemed to come alive somehow, like giant, silent guardians of the countryside.
A lone winter bird perched upon the branch of a solitary tree, chirping quietly to itself as it observed an unfamiliar being from a curious distance. A pair of wide, golden eyes shimmered like flames, burning in a spectral, shadowy face beneath the rim of a tall mage hat. Tension seemed to emanate from his cloaked form; he stood, knees locked, gloved hands clasped tightly together against his chest as he stared blankly at the mountains.
Vivi Ornitier stood in the centre of the icy grassland, staring at the violet-grey shadow of the horizon. The frigid, arctic air caused his fingers within the thick red gloves to grow numb, but he was not aware of this. He was too pensive to take any notice of his surroundings, of the frost-glazed pasture, or the bird nearby that was now trilling a heartening melody to the day. His mind was elsewhere, dwelling on questions that seemed to have no answers.
He often mused about things just as he was doing now, about life, and the meaning of his very existence. He would frequently ponder the world and almost everything in it, be it a simple blade of grass, or the dazzling constellations that glistened brightly in the night sky. From the cool, pure waters of a small stream, to the violent torrents of a muddy river that had been flooded by a previous rainfall; all of these were elements that he had meditatively observed and wondered about. And, as if that did not already occupy his mind enough, then it certainly did not help that there were many deeper questions that troubled him, questions which most people would have advised him to leave to the 'great thinkers'. But that was what made Vivi a great thinker in the first place. He had never met another person who thought about things as much as he, or asked as many questions for that matter.
'Where did I come from?'
'Why was I put here?'
'What gives me the ability to wonder who I am?'
'Am I the only one in this world who is like me?'
"I keep asking so many questions when I know that I'll probably never find the answers. But do I actually…want to find the answers? Is it really that important?" He sighed. "I wonder what it's like to be like everyone else. I wonder if all of the people who just accept life the way it is…are…happier than I am."
Then, closing his eyes slowly, he let his arms drop listlessly to his sides and gave a deep sigh, trying his best to relax as he endeavoured to clear his mind of all the ideas and questions that had been plaguing him. His chest began to ache as he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with the overwhelmingly frigid air. Finally, he quietly exhaled with a trembling sigh, and a crystalline veil of mist rose from his warm breath, into the air in front of him.
Eyes opening once again, Vivi gazed up at his surroundings, and noticed for the first time how serene everything appeared. "Wow," he murmured. The morning was perfect. How could he have failed to see the beauty surrounding him? How could he have overlooked the dark-violet mountains in the distance, and the grey, ghostly fog that hung over the valley like a gleaming shawl? How could he have missed the solitary tree nearby which looked as though it had grown there ages ago in contented isolation, its bare branches spreading toward the heavens in a silhouette of graceful curves and patterns? And how could he have failed to notice the heavens themselves with blended colours of whispered pink, bold violet, and ocean blue?
"I missed everything," he thought. "Everything looks so nice. And it's so…so peaceful." Never before had he witnessed a morning as soothing as this, despite the chill; the trees and grass all appeared to be in brief respite, as if pausing for just a moment so that they, too, could simply enjoy the beginning of a new day. It was strange…Vivi struggled to find a suitable analogy or picture with which he could compare what he saw. The world seemed to have paused in amazement, much the same as a person who might have gazed at the sight of something utterly breathtaking, and felt their heart miss a beat.
"Like…like mine?" Upon thinking these words, the young mage's heart fluttered, and his stomach jolted in a feeling of uneasiness. Since he had met her, he had been suffering like this quite often. Every time she smiled at him, he could feel his face flush warmly, the blood rushing furiously to his dark cheeks; and when she would turn from him with her arms crossed in anger and primrose-pink lips pouting in a state of stubbornness, his stomach would lurch with guilt. There were times when he even thought he finally understood why he felt the way he did, and why he would behave in such an anxious manner around her. However, he was afraid to admit it even in his mind, and every day he struggled to suppress his emotions as much as he could, worried that she might catch onto him.
Huddling beneath his blue coat to keep as warm as possible, Vivi glanced back in her direction from the corners of his eyes, staring at her nervously as though someone would yell at him at any moment for doing such a thing. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that he was being needlessly afraid of his own feelings. There was no need to hide anything from her, because he knew that she would never imagine that he cared for her. She was oblivious, both to him and to everything else around her. Even now as she lay motionless upon the hard ground, hugging herself beneath a thin blanket, trying to shut out the cold, she appeared to be a delicate creature in need of protection. He could not tell if she had simply forced herself to adopt the habit of dismissing all important and troubling matters so that she might never let her most dangerous emotions show, or if she was actually as childish as she frequently behaved. However, one thing was certain: She never gave anything deep or important much thought. Even in slumber, she was oblivious…and there she lay, her lips and cheeks glowing cherry-red from being chafed by the cold, and her whole face was illuminated by the diminishing flames of the campfire which they had built last night. "Why won't Velma ever try to…be herself?" Vivi wondered. "Is she afraid of something? Like I am…?"
Velma was always behaving oddly. Whether she was wearing her emotions on her shoulder for everyone to see, or whether she was putting on a show, Vivi could not tell. He remembered when he had first met her: She had appeared to be trying her absolute hardest to maintain a calm, confident composure, one that told him and his comrades that she was not afraid of anything. She had seemed graceful and assertive, with piercing, ice-blue eyes, and white hair that shimmered luminously as it was blown over her shoulders by the gentle breeze that had enveloped her; she had given them the impression that she was a quiet and poised loner, the mystery of her personal story shrouded behind the shadow that her tall, blue, mage hat almost constantly cast over her features. And then, suddenly, at the drop of a stone, she had burst into tears, and her equanimity had been exposed for no more than a false façade. It was as if her overconfidence had been wiped away completely, and she had been reduced to a frightened, hypersensitive girl, ready to run over to a dark, secluded corner and cry her vulnerable little heart out. Needless to say, Vivi had been immensely mystified, and had been uncontrollably filled with remorse. Without warning, Velma had rapidly gone from a reserved fighter to a sniffling young girl…and he had felt an odd, irrepressible urge to take pity on her, to reach out to her and gently place a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.
"It's like she needs someone to take care of her, but she's too proud to admit it," he thought. "She keeps trying to suppress her feelings, when sometimes she…she just needs to let them show, and to be…well…herself. She shouldn't worry so much." Vivi paused in his thoughts, and lowered his eyes to stare at the ground, ostensibly perturbed by his own mental remark. What was it that was causing him to judge Velma, and to wish – if only to himself – that, for once, she could step back and permit herself to relax in his presence? Why did he yearn for her to cease her continuously tetchy behaviour when he could not cease his timid one? He was fully aware of the fact that he was just as tense as she was, if not more so. They simply – albeit unconsciously – focused that anxiety in different ways, he by being bashful and withdrawn, and she by being condescending and proud. She even seemed to mislead herself at times.
However, there was yet a more upsetting query, one that Vivi could not shake from his mind. It was the easiest question he had ever asked, and yet the hardest: Why? Why should she – or he, for that matter – forget their plights and concentrate on no more than the simplicity of existing?
Suddenly, a chill breeze swept over the quiet setting, and a faint, icy glimmer from upon the ground caused him to glance over inquisitively, looking for the source of the gleam. And there it was. One last flower. A lonely, pale blue flower, the only one that had managed to survive the bleakness of autumn until the frost had taken its fragile life. And yet, ironically, it had preserved it at the same time. How curious. He wondered how many frost-glazed flowers he had failed to notice in his life before.
As Vivi continued to stare down at the preserved flower, he asked himself the same question. 'Why should we concentrate on no more than the simplicity of existing?' "Because," he began mentally, and reached a hand out to pick the frozen flower, eyeing it thoughtfully, "we'll be missing everything. If we keep wondering what a flower is made of, and what causes it to grow and then die…we'll never have appreciated it for just being a flower. We'll miss it. I'll miss it. And I'll miss everything else. I'll miss…I'll miss Velma."
Shivering slightly from the cold, Vivi lowered his eyes toward the ground. How strange. For once, he had asked a question which actually had an answer. And now, he hardly knew what to do with the knowledge he had inadvertently gained. What would he have done with any other type of knowledge? "…Use it?" he asked mentally, hoping that it was the right solution. Then, he nodded, now feeling a bit more confident and sure of his guess. "Use it. Follow my own advice. Even if it's just for a second."
Just then, the familiar sound of Velma softly yawning caused Vivi to swiftly turn in her direction; slowly and effortlessly, the black mage girl sat up and stretched her arms over her head, her white hair falling over her shoulders. As Vivi continued to gaze at her, her narrowed eyes glistening with newfound liveliness after her recuperative rest, he thought that she looked as pretty as the morning.
"Good…Good morning," he said timidly. Then, without hesitating, he went over to her, the late-autumn grass breaking and snapping beneath the soles of his shoes, and courteously held a hand out to help her up.
"Good morning," she replied in that deep voice of hers, the voice which he had grown accustomed to after spending so much time around her. Casually, she placed her gloved hand within his, and then stood up.
Trying his best to ignore the queasy sensation in his stomach, Vivi finally pulled his hand away from hers, and gazed at the ground so that his hat partially concealed his face. "Did you…sleep okay?" he inquired.
"Yes," she said, brushing her hair aside heedlessly, and then reached down for her blue hat before placing it on her head. Pausing, she looked back down at him, eyebrows drawn together slightly in a somewhat puzzled expression.
He blinked, and only when he glanced at the light blue flower which he still held in his hand did he understand what it was that had caught her attention. Suddenly, without fully realising what he was doing, Vivi held the flower up, and silently offered it to Velma as a small gesture of thoughtfulness.
Velma took the flower, her cheeks visibly reddening until they were an admirable shade of scarlet, and stared at the gift wordlessly. He waited, gazing into her eyes in apprehension, searching for even the slightest hint of a reassuring reaction from her. Although, he did wonder…Were her eyes suddenly gleaming brighter than usual?
Finally, after a long while of silence, Velma's serious, reflective expression softened, and she raised her eyebrows serenely as though she were just subtly smiling. "That's really pretty," was her only reply, but it was enough to bring a vague smile to Vivi's face.
He nodded shyly. "Yeah. I thought it was, too…"
Once again, an unnerving silence enveloped the two companions, hovering over them like grey, foreboding rain clouds as neither dared to say anything. At last, after a long moment of awkwardness, Vivi looked up at his friend and said, "Well…Maybe we should get going."
"Yes," she answered quietly, but remained in the spot in which she stood, reluctant to be the first to move.
Forced to take that as a signal, Vivi slowly turned, and then walked in the opposite direction. Hands held together in nervousness once more, he glanced back from the corners of his eyes out of habit to make sure his companion followed…only to look away hastily, pretending not to notice as Velma casually placed the ice-glazed flower in her hair…