Clad in the Darkness: The Story of Golbez
Pointless Legal Disclaimer that I have to have
I don't own Final Fantasy. Wish I did, but don't. Sucks for me. I don't own Golbez, or
any of the characters mentioned in this story. Not Zemus, the Four Emperors or anybody.
Point blank, whatever. I have, however, taken a number of creative liberties on their
personalities, as the game gives us zero about them. They are all copyright Squaresoft. So
please don't sue me. I do need to eat now and then.
Part 1
"You may take my life, but you will never touch my legacy and all I have worked
toward," the ever-heroic KluYa gasped. "Never. It lies in my sons… they are my legacy,
and they'll carry on my work after I am gone. You cannot touch them, nor corrupt them
with your evil ways."
"Shut up." Zemus hissed. "Your fancy words don't frighten me. Fight like the man you
know you are not!" muttering words under his breath, Zemus gathered his energy
together and cast Flare. KluYa gasped as the energy seared his already weakened flesh.
"Your sons were not born pure. They have human blood." Zemus sneered. "One will
follow in your footsteps… and die in them. The other will follow mine." He laughed and
struck at KluYa with his hand, a gesture of contempt. "I was always different from you,
KluYa." A hollow, rattling sound echoed from his throat. KluYa winced at the horrible
sound, and grimaced as he realized that Zemus was laughing. "In fact, I don't even know
why I'm telling you all of this. It's none of your fucking business, is it?"
KluYa winced. "Must you be so crude, Zemus?"
"You're changing the subject, KluYa. I can speak however I like." He struck KluYa
again and spat in his face, then flung him back into a proper battle, charging up what
appeared to be a high-level Bolt spell.
KluYa responded with Reflect, causing Zemus' Bolt—what level of magic it was at was
impossible to tell.
KluYa's sons watched the battle with interest and horror. Golbez, a boy of nine, stood at
the window of the cottage that they lived in. His younger brother Cecil, who could barely
walk, leaned on Golbez as they watched the fight.
"Fight him," Golbez whispered. "You can win. You have to." Sweat poured from his
brow. He seemed to be suffering as much as his father.
"I grow weary of this," Zemus said lazily. "The game is over, KluYa. Endure your death
with dignity, like you do everything else. Your pathetic Reflect bought you a couple of
minutes, so say goodbye to your little boys. Ultimate magic of War, magic of black, ruler
of dreams and nightmares, destroy the illusion he is living. Annihilate his existence.
Eradicate his memories. Obliterate his very soul! METEO!"
The spell tore the land they stood on apart. What little vegetation had been spared by
their duel was incinerated. Where flat land had once been, there were mountains and
valleys. Where forests had been, there were deserts. Everything was reversed for and
instant as every bit of Zemus' energy was channeled into the spell.
Cecil was thrown into the air as the explosion rocked everything he knew as the world.
He was knocked out cold instantly and was carried away by some mystical force. Golbez,
wide-eyed with terror, watched Zemus descend upon him.
"Don't worry, my boy…" Zemus' hollow voice said, almost beseechingly. "You will be
alright… that is, I trust you are wiser than your father."
Golbez trembled with fear. The soulless voice was so empty, so terrifying. "I can't go
with you! You killed my father! I hate you!"
"You don't really hate me, Golbez…" his voice was so horrible. So empty. And yet
strangely comforting…
"No! NO! I hate you! You killed my dad! I won't let you take me!"
"You don't have much of a choice, Golbez." The voice was becoming easier to hear. Not
quite so awful, or hard on the ears, or the mind.
"Who'll take care of my brother?" Golbez was desperate now.
"He will be seen to. Come with me."
"I…" Golbez tried to resist, but he felt sleep stealing over him. Warm, comforting sleep,
away from his dead mother and father and his orphaned brother, even away from the man
who'd caused all of this to happen. Sleep came and saved him… or so he thought.
The last thing KluYa saw, as the life faded from his eyes, was Zemus' retreating form…
carrying the body of an unconscious Golbez.
Some time later………
Golbez opened his eyes. He was lying on a bed of some sort. He was not restrained, but
could not move.
"Where… am I?" he croaked uneasily. "What happened? I can't remember anything…"
"I am Zemus." Zemus told him. "This is my castle. Are you sure you can remember
nothing?"
"Well…" Golbez thought a moment. "My name. My name is Golbez. But that is all. Do
you know what happened to me, master Zemus?"
"You were tricked into living a lie," Zemus told the boy. "It is just as well you don't
remember. It would be too painful for you. You are lucky I found you before it was too
late.
"I need someone to help me with my business," Zemus continued. "That is why I brought
you here. Do you think that you will be able to help me?"
"Yes," Golbez said in the most determined and serious voice he could muster. "I am the
one that you seek."
Zemus smiled, a strange action for one like him. "You don't need to sound so serious,
Golbez," he said, trying to make his words sound more gentle than the harsh scraping that
normally served him as a voice. "I know that I can trust you." A subconscious touch to
the mind… setting in the seeds of dark magic…
"I'm glad," Golbez replied, "Don't ask how I know this, but you're the first person who
ever trusted me."
Zemus smiled. His power was already going to work. "Training will not be easy, son," he
said softly, "At times you may want to give up. That will not be a surprising factor, but
you must dedicate yourself to this task. With your help, I can cleanse the world of its
blight.
"We'll start with simple spells, of course. You can't start at the top, of course. Even one
as great as I didn't."
"Even you…?"
"Even me, son."
"You called me 'son'…"
"You're like a son to me, Golbez. I can teach you to be strong. I will help you build a
new world out of the ashes of the old one. And you will help me to make it so. Is that
agreeable?"
"Absolutely, master Zemus."
Voice-over
Zemus trained me well. That's all I can, and will, say for him. I don't like him. I really
don't. I won't pretend I will, even for a second, but he trained me well. I'll give him that
much. He taught me everything I know about fighting and magic—which is a lot… and
he also taught me everything I know about diplomacy and kindness and all of those other
stupid emotional and social things—which is next to nothing, if not actually there.
He took the boy Golbez, half-human, half-Lunarian and turned him into a block of ice.
Froze out every bit of kindness, compassion and human weakness. Then he took that
block of ice and carved it into the perfect right-hand man for the task he had set before
himself. He took that right-hand man and chiseled him to be even finer… polished him
and refined him until there were no chinks left in his armor, and no chances of anyone—
literally—managing to look him in the face and live to brag about it.
He gave this right-hand man powers that no decent human would want, need, or use. He
gave that right-hand man minions of many a kind… the four Emperors of the Elements…
so many foot soldiers, useless soldiers, meaningless soldiers to die by the thousands for
him. And, perhaps worst of all, he gave his right-hand man the ability to destroy the
minds of anyone. He could make any of them his slave, destroy the sense of right and
wrong, everything except undying loyalty to their Master… Golbez. Me.
I feel awful when I think of all that I did… all that I destroyed, how many lives I ended or
ruined… far too many to count. Isn't it terrible? Of course it is. It doesn't take a fool to
see that. Even a total idiot could, and that isn't how I'd describe myself. I'm a lot of
things, but not stupid. But here I am, standing here, awake after my age-old sleep,
wanting to tell my story, wanting to be able to pull some sort of knowledge from it… and
maybe even to be forgiven.
Pointless Legal Disclaimer that I have to have
I don't own Final Fantasy. Wish I did, but don't. Sucks for me. I don't own Golbez, or
any of the characters mentioned in this story. Not Zemus, the Four Emperors or anybody.
Point blank, whatever. I have, however, taken a number of creative liberties on their
personalities, as the game gives us zero about them. They are all copyright Squaresoft. So
please don't sue me. I do need to eat now and then.
Part 1
"You may take my life, but you will never touch my legacy and all I have worked
toward," the ever-heroic KluYa gasped. "Never. It lies in my sons… they are my legacy,
and they'll carry on my work after I am gone. You cannot touch them, nor corrupt them
with your evil ways."
"Shut up." Zemus hissed. "Your fancy words don't frighten me. Fight like the man you
know you are not!" muttering words under his breath, Zemus gathered his energy
together and cast Flare. KluYa gasped as the energy seared his already weakened flesh.
"Your sons were not born pure. They have human blood." Zemus sneered. "One will
follow in your footsteps… and die in them. The other will follow mine." He laughed and
struck at KluYa with his hand, a gesture of contempt. "I was always different from you,
KluYa." A hollow, rattling sound echoed from his throat. KluYa winced at the horrible
sound, and grimaced as he realized that Zemus was laughing. "In fact, I don't even know
why I'm telling you all of this. It's none of your fucking business, is it?"
KluYa winced. "Must you be so crude, Zemus?"
"You're changing the subject, KluYa. I can speak however I like." He struck KluYa
again and spat in his face, then flung him back into a proper battle, charging up what
appeared to be a high-level Bolt spell.
KluYa responded with Reflect, causing Zemus' Bolt—what level of magic it was at was
impossible to tell.
KluYa's sons watched the battle with interest and horror. Golbez, a boy of nine, stood at
the window of the cottage that they lived in. His younger brother Cecil, who could barely
walk, leaned on Golbez as they watched the fight.
"Fight him," Golbez whispered. "You can win. You have to." Sweat poured from his
brow. He seemed to be suffering as much as his father.
"I grow weary of this," Zemus said lazily. "The game is over, KluYa. Endure your death
with dignity, like you do everything else. Your pathetic Reflect bought you a couple of
minutes, so say goodbye to your little boys. Ultimate magic of War, magic of black, ruler
of dreams and nightmares, destroy the illusion he is living. Annihilate his existence.
Eradicate his memories. Obliterate his very soul! METEO!"
The spell tore the land they stood on apart. What little vegetation had been spared by
their duel was incinerated. Where flat land had once been, there were mountains and
valleys. Where forests had been, there were deserts. Everything was reversed for and
instant as every bit of Zemus' energy was channeled into the spell.
Cecil was thrown into the air as the explosion rocked everything he knew as the world.
He was knocked out cold instantly and was carried away by some mystical force. Golbez,
wide-eyed with terror, watched Zemus descend upon him.
"Don't worry, my boy…" Zemus' hollow voice said, almost beseechingly. "You will be
alright… that is, I trust you are wiser than your father."
Golbez trembled with fear. The soulless voice was so empty, so terrifying. "I can't go
with you! You killed my father! I hate you!"
"You don't really hate me, Golbez…" his voice was so horrible. So empty. And yet
strangely comforting…
"No! NO! I hate you! You killed my dad! I won't let you take me!"
"You don't have much of a choice, Golbez." The voice was becoming easier to hear. Not
quite so awful, or hard on the ears, or the mind.
"Who'll take care of my brother?" Golbez was desperate now.
"He will be seen to. Come with me."
"I…" Golbez tried to resist, but he felt sleep stealing over him. Warm, comforting sleep,
away from his dead mother and father and his orphaned brother, even away from the man
who'd caused all of this to happen. Sleep came and saved him… or so he thought.
The last thing KluYa saw, as the life faded from his eyes, was Zemus' retreating form…
carrying the body of an unconscious Golbez.
Some time later………
Golbez opened his eyes. He was lying on a bed of some sort. He was not restrained, but
could not move.
"Where… am I?" he croaked uneasily. "What happened? I can't remember anything…"
"I am Zemus." Zemus told him. "This is my castle. Are you sure you can remember
nothing?"
"Well…" Golbez thought a moment. "My name. My name is Golbez. But that is all. Do
you know what happened to me, master Zemus?"
"You were tricked into living a lie," Zemus told the boy. "It is just as well you don't
remember. It would be too painful for you. You are lucky I found you before it was too
late.
"I need someone to help me with my business," Zemus continued. "That is why I brought
you here. Do you think that you will be able to help me?"
"Yes," Golbez said in the most determined and serious voice he could muster. "I am the
one that you seek."
Zemus smiled, a strange action for one like him. "You don't need to sound so serious,
Golbez," he said, trying to make his words sound more gentle than the harsh scraping that
normally served him as a voice. "I know that I can trust you." A subconscious touch to
the mind… setting in the seeds of dark magic…
"I'm glad," Golbez replied, "Don't ask how I know this, but you're the first person who
ever trusted me."
Zemus smiled. His power was already going to work. "Training will not be easy, son," he
said softly, "At times you may want to give up. That will not be a surprising factor, but
you must dedicate yourself to this task. With your help, I can cleanse the world of its
blight.
"We'll start with simple spells, of course. You can't start at the top, of course. Even one
as great as I didn't."
"Even you…?"
"Even me, son."
"You called me 'son'…"
"You're like a son to me, Golbez. I can teach you to be strong. I will help you build a
new world out of the ashes of the old one. And you will help me to make it so. Is that
agreeable?"
"Absolutely, master Zemus."
Voice-over
Zemus trained me well. That's all I can, and will, say for him. I don't like him. I really
don't. I won't pretend I will, even for a second, but he trained me well. I'll give him that
much. He taught me everything I know about fighting and magic—which is a lot… and
he also taught me everything I know about diplomacy and kindness and all of those other
stupid emotional and social things—which is next to nothing, if not actually there.
He took the boy Golbez, half-human, half-Lunarian and turned him into a block of ice.
Froze out every bit of kindness, compassion and human weakness. Then he took that
block of ice and carved it into the perfect right-hand man for the task he had set before
himself. He took that right-hand man and chiseled him to be even finer… polished him
and refined him until there were no chinks left in his armor, and no chances of anyone—
literally—managing to look him in the face and live to brag about it.
He gave this right-hand man powers that no decent human would want, need, or use. He
gave that right-hand man minions of many a kind… the four Emperors of the Elements…
so many foot soldiers, useless soldiers, meaningless soldiers to die by the thousands for
him. And, perhaps worst of all, he gave his right-hand man the ability to destroy the
minds of anyone. He could make any of them his slave, destroy the sense of right and
wrong, everything except undying loyalty to their Master… Golbez. Me.
I feel awful when I think of all that I did… all that I destroyed, how many lives I ended or
ruined… far too many to count. Isn't it terrible? Of course it is. It doesn't take a fool to
see that. Even a total idiot could, and that isn't how I'd describe myself. I'm a lot of
things, but not stupid. But here I am, standing here, awake after my age-old sleep,
wanting to tell my story, wanting to be able to pull some sort of knowledge from it… and
maybe even to be forgiven.