My Partner Survived the Attack of the Killer Flame-Throwing Zombie Monks in the Ruined Dome of Zanarkand and All I Got was This Lousy T-Shirt

By Al Kristopher

Elma and Lucile would go to bed together, wake up together, and ride out on their missions together, but Elma was instructed to remain by herself one day as her Captain Lucile went off alone, perhaps to fight some this-fiend-is-more-powerful-than-you-but-I-can-handle-it-pretty-well-myself-so-you-should-stay-here creature, and it was all because she SAID SO.

Not that Elma minded taking orders from Lucile. She loved her Captain, loved her, and would have done many things for her--yes, even staying behind where the exciting grass grew a whole meter in some places and deadly swarms of honeybees and worker ants roamed the fatal, lawless wastes of yonder meadow. Elma would have done it, and probably more; she would have fought the deadly bees, the relentless little ants, and that great horror amidst all other horrors that humanity had to face--IMPS!!

But on that day, Lucile told her to remain by her SELF. And that's what she had to do. An almost childish "why, Captain?" came out of Elma's lips in response, which was perfectly legitimate (even more perfectly so because both women could fight as good as any warrior, and that no enemy should have existed that could give any one of them some trouble, whether in groups or as individuals. And wouldn't the most troublesome fiends be less so with more knights at its hide?). She just could not understand why Lucile, her most beloved Captain, would ever--could ever leave her off by herself, in that deadly meadow (Elma thought with her second yawn), while she rode solo off to fight some fiend.

However, the response that Lucile gave her charge and second-in-command was of equal and relevant……… relevance. She blinked and smiled at the young, somewhat pale brunette, sensing and knowing that within that feminine body--underneath the armor and clothes, and further underneath once one got past naughty thoughts, deep inside past the bones and flesh, taking a left through the ribcage while trying to avoid the blood flow traffic (oh yes, rush hour was a pain in the vein)--she could see that Elma desperately wanted to help.

Even if the enemy was a deadly imp, she would have followed. To Hell and back--or failing that, Luca, where parking was terrible and the chauffer service treated people like dirt, and blitz ball jocks always thought they were just the best thing since the invention of ogre repellant. No, Elma would have even followed Lucile there, of all places, and would have brought up arms against a sea of troubles, hopefully by opposing, end them, or at least making the blitzers shut up for once.

She would have followed because… Oh, Lucile knew the reason. Beyond loyalty, there was a reason, and with all irony, the reason Elma would have followed Lucile into that murky unknown to fight the equally murky and unknown enemy was the same reason she had to stay behind. Keeping her smile, Lucile touched Elma's face, and knowing that they were in private sectors (excluding the chocobo, naturally), she kissed her.

"Because I love you," she whispered, and rode off. Elma let her go. She did it because it was true. But even then, waiting was a pain--and not just in the neck or the butt, but in the whole body, for feet go sore and patience becomes slippery after hours of keeping watch over bees, birds, and cloudless skies. Elma took in a deep breath and wondered how her Captain was doing. Was that fiend really that deadly? She sniffled. A band of creatures advanced on her again, believing themselves wiser than the last few bunches that attempted to attack a chocobo knight deprived of action. Elma identified them with stiff joy.

"Imps," she said. "Why does it always have to be imps?"

Naturally, this is the part that shifts from Elma to Lucile.

Lucile got all the way to the Dome before she realized, rather stupidly, that it would be far more logical to have included Elma after all. The fiends inside were not exactly tame--oh, who was she kidding? They were going to kill her! What sort of ego (or in this case, "concern") could have been so great that it allowed Lucile for one second to believe it would actually be safer to charge into the ruined Dome solo rather than taking her most trusted warrior with her? She would have kicked herself if her foot could reach that far. She settled for rolling her eyes.

And what was worse, what if she really did die in there? Elma would be crushed--crushed like an imp under a Chupuff! Of course, going in solo, how would a dead Lucile ever give word to anyone else? Would Elma follow after having waited long enough? Would she die, too? Lucile desperately wished for a good kicking; this had to be one of the stupidest things she had done. Well, second-stupidest--but she had a good excuse that other time!

Remembering the "other" time made Lucile cringe, rub her bottom delicately, and curse Cactaurs to an early extinction.

She hopped off her mount. She took several steps forward. She drew her sword. It was like making the quintessential recipe for disaster, without the eggs and long baking time. Lucile never liked ovens anyway, and she was mildly afraid of fire. Chalk that up to disastrous trauma during childhood and an early, though brief desire to be a chef. She shuddered and walked on, faintly aware that her chocobo was following her. That was some comfort. If an enemy ever got in her way, the bird could peck it to death, or kick dirt in its eyes. Oh yes. Sin had every reason to shudder in its shell at the wake of a mighty chocobo's unstoppable beak attack.

Suddenly, the sound of breaking glass shattered the wailing silence of pyre-flies. Lucile felt the world scatter as another annoying random battle ceased her progress. She grimaced and wished for the one thousandth, six-hundredth, forty-third time that she had customized a "No Encounters" seal on her armor. It was really her own fault for delaying it; another stupid mess she had gotten herself into.

Three fire-shooting zombie monks stood in Lucile's way. Just great. Lucile set her bag down on the floor and watched them carefully. She sunk her hand inside the bag and pulled out as many recovery items as she could carry, once again breathing thanks to Elma for organizing the whole thing. Not only was it by type, but everything was also alphabetical, and even by size, color, and how much her Captain liked them. Being alone in the haunted Dome made Lucile realize, again, that she really could not get along without dear Elma. What made her even happier, though, was the fact that Elma scarcely got along without her.

Lucile made the breakthrough discovery of a lifetime as she learned the hard way that giddiness could be consumed by flames (wouldn't science class be happy?). All those fond memories of Elma's dear-heartedness were forgotten as one of the monks, far from being "not ready yet", loaded his gun and shot fire at his opponent. Lucile recoiled and realized she had been hurt as three large, white digits appeared below her, registering a lack of exactly 675 units of her total health points.

She hated it when that happened.

Now she faced a small dilemma. As Captain Lucile of the chocobo knights, she had an impressive 2,476 units of health, a physical defense around 60, and a magical defense of 22, give or take. She was not exactly staggering on her knees, breathing heavily, and lost in awe at how very red the world had become all of a sudden (she quickly excused any aforementioned naughty thoughts). She could still fight. She didn't need to use a whole turn to cure herself. Lucile shrugged haphazardly, and since it was indeed her turn to fight (now the zombie monks were patiently waiting for her!!), she pulled out a powerful X-Potion and chucked it at the monk that had burned her. The glass jar broke over him and made him very melty.

The other two didn't seem to care that their pyromaniacal buddy had been cured to death (or was it life? It was so tough being a zombie). It was their turn, so they raised their guns and shot Lucile. The knight Captain knew that no matter where she went, she would never feel any pain or suffer any disfigurement unless it was outside a random battle; even the fire didn't hurt. However, her units of health, all two thousand-plus of them, would sink further and further down until there were none left--and when there were none left, she would die. Well, sort of. As long as she remained unsent, she could still live.

Spira was so bloody confusing.

Lucile tossed another X-Potion at one of the monks, and deftly avoided the bullets of the last one by jumping back. A big, bold, white sign screaming out "MISS!" lurched out of nowhere and vanished just as soon as it arrived, to her amazement. Well, duh! Another X-Potion was donated to the Making Mean Zombie Monks Go Away Charity, and was received with great enthusiasm. The old saying was right: it was better to give than to receive.

"Elma will never hear the end of this," murmured Lucile lightly as she picked her pack again (no pickled peppers were insulted in the making of this journey). She said it because it was true: Elma wouldn't hear the end because Lucile would never tell her, nor would she even explain the beginning. She would just return, riding on chocobo, face slightly flushed from foolish crusading. Maybe it would've been better to attack windmills in hopes of finding one disguised as a giant. Lucile sighed and decided to correct her mistake by going back to Elma, realizing that, as she walked out of the Dome, how right she was. She had loved Elma enough to keep her away from this place, but perhaps the real reason she decided to go alone was because she didn't want Elma to see her make a fool out of herself.

"I really do need her," sighed Lucile again, sitting on top of her mount's back. "Her presence makes me… considerate." Lucile and her chocobo trotted off away from the dome together, the rider a bit wiser because of the experience and the chocobo, as always, having no idea what was going on. Besides, Lucile didn't want to be a hypocrite--she had told Elma hundreds of times that a mistake can happen to anyone, but errors happen when the wrong is not learned from and made right. But Yevon forbid she ever learn anything while out on a simple journey of exploration and fiend-bashing.

She rode out of the Zanarkand Dome 15,000 Gil richer. Sweet.

And of course, this is when both our heroines come back together again, as if they would be apart for long.

Elma lost count over several things: number of big, depressing sighs she had let out, number of clouds-that-looked-like-Lucile that had passed over, and number of imps that had foolishly gotten in her way (and with no bodies to count, since fiends simply disappeared into pyre-flies when killed). She was board-stiff, impatient, and worrisome with concern. A part of her wanted to disobey Lucile and go in after her. Another part wanted to stay. Still another part wished there was a good fried chicken place around somewhere. Stupid empty meadows.

The sound of approaching chocobo feet went pitter-patter along with her heart; Elma turned around, smiled--and saw it was a wild bird. She snorted and turned back. Soon, the sound repeated itself, yet this time it sounded like there was a rider--a rider with clanking armor! Elma turned around, smiled with hope--and groaned with disgust as she saw a chocobo carrying a kitchenware merchant. She snorted, turned around, and dared for a third bird to try that same nasty trick. Naturally, it did.

"It better not be another dud…" she grumbled as she turned. She expected Lucile to be there this time, ready to berate her about calling her a "dud". Elma's face turned red and her hair tweaked out of place as an afternoon jogger, his beat exactly the same as a chocobo's, passed her by with a friendly wave. Elma decided to not turn back around, because the moment she did, another chocobo or chocobo-like-creature would come and upset her again.

"Elma!" called a voice from behind. "What are you looking at?" The voice made her jump, and by all accounts, the poor brunette would've fainted. Her beloved Captain Lucile was back, and she chose to reenter from the spot Elma refused to face, the very one she had started out on. The poor, upset knight turned around, and realized that her wish for something out of the ordinary to happen had been granted when she least expected it. Don't that just beat all?

"Oh, uh, good to see you, Captain!" she managed. "Um… I was just waiting for you to come back, that's all. I thought you would come from over there."

"I see. You look a bit upset, Elma. Is something wrong?"

"I, ah… No, Captain," she concluded, remembering to stand up straight and address her superior officer in a manner that dignified and respected her. Oh, if only she knew. The idea caused Lucile to smirk.

"Well, all right. I'm sorry for going off like that alone. It was a mistake of mine to leave you here. I had wished that you had came with me."

"I… wished I had went as well," said Elma, smiling with a flush. Lucile hopped off her steed and gave the chocobo knight's salute, flinging one arm deftly over her chest. Elma mirrored it with a happy smile. "So, did you fare well? What did you find?"

"I found that the Dome is no place to run through by one's self," said Lucile simply, "and we will leave it at that. Tomorrow, I would like for you to come along as well."

"I will, ma'am."

"Good, thank you. Oh." Lucile remembered that she had forgotten something, ironically, and reached into her pack. "I found this in the Dome and thought you might like it. It's just your size, I believe." She pulled out a small shirt, one of the many that the seemingly-endless supply of zombie monks wore, and presented it to her charge. It smelled like rot, and it was in bad condition, and knowing who its previous owner had been didn't make things any better.

"Ah…… thank you… Lucile," managed Elma, using every power she knew in order to not sound disgusted and ungrateful--because she had to face it, that shirt was lousy. Lucile gave the younger woman a sad smile, as if to both apologize for the poor "gift" and to apologize for ever leaving her alone. Truth be told, she could not function quite right without Elma, and Elma just didn't have much of a passion when Lucile was away. The love that was only expressed once, in private silence, was told again through the redhead's eyes, and received with perfect clarity by the brunette. She forgave her Captain.

The monk's shirt dropped to the floor as the chocobo knights kissed and made up for their mistakes, and decided to duck inside their makeshift tent so they could dismiss with formalities in peace and privacy. The chocobo, by all means, was completely oblivious, and found the civil war between black and red ants much more engrossing--and as we all know, imps will never attack a chocobo.

The End