The world featured in this story is basically a jumbled up mixture of towns, cities, and dungeons from various Final Fantasy games mixed together. Also, I'll mostly be sticking to characters from the games I've played (IV, V, VI, VII, IX, and X).

Disclaimer the entire story: No, I don't own Final Fantasy. We would have remakes of VII, IX, and VI by now if I did.


The small town of Narshe was a quiet, isolated place far north of the majority of the Dissidia Empire. Snow descended from the permanently gloomy sky three hundred and sixty-five days a year, and little of significance ever occurred there. Outsiders had little reason to trek the long, uneasy miles to visit the town, and for the most part the town was forever left alone.

It was because of this isolation that Zidane Tribal was wondering just why a well-equipped knight was limping into town without the aid of any transportation, especially on such a dark and snowy night.

Lurking in the shadow of a house, the thief sized up the intruder. Armor of darkness encased his shoulders, chest, and legs, and a sword, black as obsidian with golden accents, was sheathed on his waist. Silvery-white hair cascaded down past his shoulders, and there was a sorrowful glimmer in the man's eyes that immediately told Zidane one thing: this man was haunted by something. Perhaps it was the past, or possibly the looming shadow of the empire itself. Whatever it was, it seemed to coerce the thief into somersaulting out of his hiding place and landing mere feet in front of the man. "You lost?"

The armored man locked eyes with Zidane, taking in the thief's appearance. In sharp contrast to the stranger, Zidane truly didn't look like much. His blond hair was tied back in a spiky blond ponytail, and mischievous blue eyes looked deep into the intruder's. A teal vest fell over a ruffly white shirt and puffy pants of the same shade of teal concealed his lithe frame from the chill. Twin daggers were hanging on a chunky belt at his waist. Despite the lack of sleeves, the cold didn't really seem to bother him. The one feature that stood apart as bizarre was the tan tail poking out from his backside. It usually garnered far too many questions, but the armored man didn't even ask, something Zidane was grateful for.

Teeth chattering, the man inquired feebly, "Is there a place to buy food in this town?"

Zidane smiled encouragingly at the man. Whatever his deal was, he didn't look hostile. "I know a place. You got a name?"

"Cecil."

"I'm Zidane. Welcome to Narshe."


Umaro Tavern only had two employees, but that was honestly all it needed for the small mining town. Tonight, only one customer was seated at the counter, Zidane noted. Beside him, Cecil sighed in relief for some reason, but Zidane narrowed his eyes. It seemed awfully funny to him that two newcomers would be in town.

The guy had taken off his coat and placed it on the seat next to him. The longer Zidane glanced at him, the more peculiar the guy seemed. His chestnut brown hair and cheery hazel eyes were nothing out of the ordinary, but his clothes were another matter entirely. He was attired in a sleeveless blue silk shirt and white tights. An intricate shoulder guard protected his left shoulder, and multiple sashes and scarves adorned his waist, along with a cape covering his shoulders. The look reminded Zidane of a mime.

He was carrying a red rapier, and Zidane took a moment to reflect on when exactly everyone in the world felt the need to tote a weapon around anymore. It was a depressing train of thought, so he shook it away and feasted his eyes on the woman behind the counter.

"Hey, Terra, this is Cecil. He's new in town," said Zidane, not taking his eyes off the girl. She was far from an eyesore. Green hair pulled up in a ponytail (a rare color; it received even more questioning than Zidane's tail), kind yet slightly distant green eyes peering out from behind bangs, a red mini-dress, and a cape (Zidane really needed a cape, it seemed like everyone except him - and Cecil - had one), she definitely drew quite a few stares.

Terra glanced up from the glass she was polishing and smiled at Cecil. "Hello! Need food?"

Eyes widening, Cecil nodded vigorously and said, "If you may. Anything hot is fine. I can't linger too long."

"Take a seat," she offered, "I'll fix something up."

"Thank you." Cecil procured for himself a stool next to the other stranger, and Zidane beside him.

"So...where you from?" Zidane queried as Terra handed Cecil a cup of tea.

Cecil paused as he took a sip, contemplating how much to tell the boy. "...Baron," he finally replied.

Zidane leaned over the bar to ask the other, "How about you? Got a name?"

This guy was much more open. "I'm Bartz, Bartz Klauser. I'm...not really from anywhere. Mostly I wander with my Chocobo, Boco. You may have seen him outside."

Indeed, Zidane had spotted one of the yellow birds tied up. You didn't see many Chocobos up so far north. "Why're you guys here? You don't get many visitors around here anymore."

Bartz simply shrugged and said, "I just go where the wind blows!", but Cecil looked far more anxious.

This prompted Zidane to say, "Look, Cecil, you've got the armor, the equipment, and everything you'd need, even money, I bet, to live well, yet I found you outside of here hungrier than a Qu. Are you -"

"Zidane, mind your own business," came a voice from behind the trio.

Zidane must've leaped three feet in the air, which was impressive when you realized his feet couldn't reach the floor to give him the necessary boost. "Cloud! Don't freak me out like that!"

Cloud shrugged, and as Bartz and Cecil took in the sight of the man, they couldn't help but wonder. Spiky blond hair that strongly resembled a Chocobo, glowing blue eyes, and clad in black from head to toe, Cloud certainly looked the part of a menacing security man. On days when customers got too rough for even Terra to handle, Cloud happily stepped in and unleashed the enormous Buster Sword on his back. The Buster Sword strongly resembled a five-foot long butcher knife, and not a single person in town was willing to match blades with the master swordsman who wielded its girth.

Despite all this, he had a mournful gaze that Zidane had never seen in anyone before in his life - until today, when he had met Cecil. Just what were their stories?

"Hi, Cloud! I'm Bartz!" the man himself said.

Cloud nodded coolly at Bartz. "You guys staying long? It'd be nice to have someone else besides monkey boy for company."

"Hey!" Zidane groaned, to everyone's amusement.

"I'm going to be here for a couple days," Bartz answered.

"I plan on leaving tonight," Cecil responded.

Bartz raised a skeptical eyebrow. "In a rush, huh?"

"...You could say I'm avoiding a meeting." Cecil said no more and just gazed into his teacup. What he saw in the liquid, the others could only imagine, but his eyes looked so scarred, so horrified, that no one knew how to respond.

Even so, Zidane had finally pieced together the puzzle pieces. "You're a fugitive."

Cecil closed his eyes and, hesitantly, nodded. Bartz and Cloud's eyes widened, and Terra poked her head up from her spot at the stove. "What?!"

"I should leave, I'm endangering you all here," Cecil murmured.

He tried to rise from his seat, but Bartz clutched his wrist. "Hey, man, I wouldn't leave now. It's getting dark, and the snow could get bad quickly. Besides, we can all take care of ourselves if anything happens!"

Cecil shook his head furiously in denial. "You don't understand, I've lingered too long already! They're - "

A dark, guttural voice spoke from the tavern's entrance, one that chilled everyone to the bone. "Well, well, well, look who it is."