So, I find myself in the all too familiar position of having bitten off more than I can chew. Between preparing for goat babies being born out in the barn, reading two different books, playing three different video games, helping some friends move, and beta reading an awesome fanfiction I've had little time to do my own writing! Sorry about that guys!

On the subject of the fanfiction I am beta reading, if anyone likes Final Fantasy IV or just good fantasy in general I urge you to check out "The Secret of the Sunstones" by .78. It is heavily based upon the plot of Final Fantasy IV at the start, but with an original world and characters.

Thanks to SirKaid and .78 for their kind reviews! And, as always, a huge thank you goes out to Antismurf Lord of Darkness, who convinced me to write this whole story rather than only the epilogue as I had previously planned.

I do not own Final Fantasy VI and sadly never will.

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The icy winds of Narshe cut through Cyan's cloak and coated his face in a thin layer of frost as he paced the high walls of the mining city. As it was embedded partway into the side of a mountain this city was an almost perfect defensible structure. Any approaching troops would be seen coming from far off, giving the guards plenty of time to prepare, and the city itself was constructed in layers, each one more easily defended than the last. The final defense was the mines themselves, and the labyrinthine canyons of stone and ice leading to them. It truly had been a stroke of genius on the part of Celes when she suggested they bait the imperial army into those canyons rather than make their stand in the city proper. Even so Cyan grimaced at the thought of the imperial general, disgraced or not.

Thankfully she was gone with the young thief, Sir Sabin, and his brother on their quest to retrieve the young woman who had reacted so violently to the frozen esper so he did not have to confront her face to face on a daily basis. Thoughts of that strange shy young woman gave him something new to contemplate, much more amenable than his unease concerning the general. Though . . . when he thought about the way the young woman twisted the elements to her command in the face of the empire's soldiers, then had changed into some sort of creature and flown away . . . a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold wracked Cyan's frame.

Abruptly the older warrior turned and marched towards a set of stairs leading off the wall. Taking care to avoid the patches of ice that decorated the steps in spite of the Narshen guards' best efforts at keeping them clear, Cyan took the stairs two at a time in his haste to be away. Everything was all so wrong. Magic. Traitors. An empire built on twisted experiments and fairy tales that strove not just for domination of people but also of forces that should not exist at all. It was all strange and all wrong. He wanted to go home.

A strangled sound tore from his throat as an agony he was becoming all too familiar with washed over him. The walls of Doma Castle may still stand tall, but Cyan's home was destroyed more completely than he could have ever imagined. Elayne and Owaine, his king, his friends, his people, were dead. Down to the last child; they died while he lived.

"Why?" he asked himself in a muted moan. A young couple looked at him strangely as they passed and Cyan quickly turned away. Not caring if anyone stared he ran the remainder of the distance to the inn where the town elder had kindly provided a room. More than a few people were startled when he yanked the door open and stormed through the common area towards the personal rooms. His hands shuddered so badly that it took four tries just to fit the key into the lock on his room's door. Only when he was finally surrounded by the privacy of the four walls did Cyan allow himself to break down. Sitting down hard on the edge of his bed the last warrior of Doma held his head in his hands and cried silently until his eyes were raw and his throat almost too tight to breathe. Every day when he woke up he expected all of this to be a bad dream. He would roll over, kiss Elayne good morning, and tell her all about this nightmare before getting himself and his son up and ready for their morning swordsmanship lessons. But no matter how many times he awoke, the nightmare remained real.

By the time Cyan's tears ran dry the moon had already risen high in the sky. He took deep breaths to steady himself, but did not bother to rise. Now that it was done, the shame of giving in to such a display of emotion burned nearly as much as his grief. He was a warrior of Doma! Doma was gone. To act in such an infantile fashion brought nothing but shame upon his house! His house was no more. A true warrior did not give in to the weakness of extreme emotion: to do so would invite the scorn of even his own blood! Elayne and Owain were dead.

He couldn't quite bring himself to care that he hadn't eaten since yesterday evening: the empty feeling in his stomach was eclipsed by the yawning hole in his heart. Arvis and Banon commented on his haggard looks often and the way the flesh was rapidly dropping off his bones, but he couldn't find it in himself to care about that either. Nothing mattered anymore.

There was nothing left to do but lie back and attempt sleep. Perhaps when he woke in the morning this nightmare would be over. Without bothering to even remove his boots or sword belt Cyan stretched out on the mattress and closed his eyes.

In the room's opposite corner something stirred. Cyan was instantly alert to the out-of-place sound. For the first time since entering the room Cyan became aware that things were distinctly out of place. The window was open a crack, allowing a tendril of cold wind to stir the curtains, the edges of which were coated with snow. It had been quite some time then, since that window had been opened. The small table and chair opposite his bed were also out of place; tugged close to the corner as if to create some sort of small cave. And in the darkness of that artificial cave something stirred.

Cyan sat up and placed a hand on his sword's hilt. "Show thyself, fiend!" he growled.

The thing under the table shifted again and let out a pitiful whine. "Uwaooooooo . . ."

Cyan's eyes grew wide at the familiar sound. "Sir Gau?" Four quick strides carried him across the small room where he put his hand on the edge of the table to steady himself before crouching down and looking closer at the mound of shadows. Two unmistakable bright tawny colored eyes peered back at him from the darkness. What in the world was the young man doing in his room? And, Cyan failed to suppress a grimace, how long had he been there?

"What are thou doing?"

Gau whined again and his tawny eyes disappeared as he shut them tight. When Cyan's eyes adjusted to the poor light he was able to make out the wild boy's gawky frame wedged into the room's corner and curled into the tightest ball possible.

"Pray tell, Sir Gau, what doth ail thee?"

The only answer forthcoming was another long whimper. Despite his best intentions, Cyan began to feel his irritation rising. Having been raised by monsters Gau had every right to his terrible communication and social skills; but that did not make it any less frustrating for those around him. In particular, Cyan found himself becoming more and more aggravated with the boy. Once reaching civilization Gau had attached himself to his side like a tick to a dog. Every time Cyan turned around Gau was in his shadow, cringing and hiding more often than not. More times than the older warrior could count he nearly broke his neck tripping over the wild boy. He truly did try to be civil and understanding but sometimes even his patience was stretched to the limit. Especially when Gau worked up the courage to ask questions.

Just this morning he'd snapped angrily at Gau's ceaseless curiosity, sending the boy scurrying for his own quarters as if he'd been struck. The moment the words left his mouth guilt started to fester in Cyan's gut. Gau hadn't deserved to be yelled at . . . he didn't deserve any of Cyan's negative feelings towards him. He was a child, a child who, like all children, wanted answers and needed people more experienced in life to guide them to those answers. But Cyan couldn't help it . . . Gau reminded him too much of Owain . . .

"Want go home."

Those words snapped Cyan out of his thoughts just abruptly as his words had struck the boy that morning.

"Sir Gau," he said softly, "What didst thou say?"

Tawny eyes opened again to stare at him.

"Want go home," Gau repeated, "People all angry . . . people not like Gau . . . Gau not know why . . . miss home . . ."

The guilt festering in Cyan's gut from earlier came bubbling up with a fury. There was absolutely no reason he should have been cross with the boy, no matter his own mental state! He let go of the table's edge and settled himself cross legged on the floor. By leaning forward and propping both elbows on his knees Cyan was able to bring himself down to the cringing Gau's level.

When he spoke he tried to make his voice as comforting as possible, "My words this morning were spoken in haste. I apologize. They were not meant to cause thee pain."

"You angry?"

"No," he reassured, "Any anger I had, twas greatly misplaced. I hath no anger towards thou."

Gau's eyes opened a little wider and he uncurled from his little ball into a more normal sitting position. Though, it could hardly be called "normal" so long as they boy was hunched under that table.

"Why people angry me?" Gau whimpered. The boy looked at him with desperate pleading eyes.

Cyan was incredibly confused. "What dost thou mean? Thou art a favorite with all who meet thee." Everyone, from Sabin and his brother to the treasure hunter, shy young woman, and imperial general were nothing but kind to the boy. Even the staff at the inn did their best to try and make him comfortable, always sparing a smile for Gau and looking in on him to make sure everything was alright.

Gau shook his head and let out a little sound of despair. "No! People angry, Gau not know why! Show teeth, show teeth at Gau! That mean Gau do wrong, people no like Gau . . . Me do nothing! Why show teeth?" Gau buried his head in his hands and tried to make himself as small as possible again.

Cyan sat back, perplexed. Show teeth? What in the gods' names did Gau mean by people showing teeth at him? Then it hit him. A memory from a few weeks ago of the assassin's great black dog pulling back its lips to reveal a mouthful of gleaming teeth when Cyan offered a hand for the creature to sniff flashed before his eyes. To one not versed in the ways of animals, the threatening display may have resembled a smile. If one were not versed in the ways of people, could not such a misunderstanding be reversed? That would explain, he mused, why Gau clung to him and no other: Cyan was certain no such expression of joy had been on his face since Doma.

"Gau, I believe thou doth misunderstand," Cyan began slowly, how did one explain a smile, an action so simple and unconscious that it was a part of one's knowledge before speech itself? Gau's tawny eyes became visible as the wild boy uncovered his face to make a questioning sound.

After taking a moment to think Cyan continued, "When a person exposes their teeth to another, tis rarely a hostile action; we call it a smile. A smile is an expression of happiness. If someone shows teeth at thou, tis a good thing; they hath no anger towards thee."

Gau cocked his head to the side. "Show teeth . . . happy?"

"Yes."

When Gau finished digesting this new information he let out what Cyan judged to be a frustrated snort. "People strange. Confuse Gau." But then his tone softened and he peered at Cyan with eager eyes, "People no angry me?"

"Not in the least," he assured. With a happy yip Gau scrambled out from under the table and did a quick lap around the small room, finally stopping to crouch in front of the still sitting Cyan while bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Why you no smile?" the boy suddenly asked, "Gau know you sad, you hurt. That why you no smile?"

Cyan's jaw nearly dropped at the boy's perceptiveness. Although, he had just spent nearly forty minute crying while Gau was in the room. An idiot could have realized that he was hurt and sad. Lack of human contact or not, Gau was no idiot. Still, for him to so quickly put the pieces together and realize that this was the reason Cyan never smiled was admirable. Cyan averted his gaze.

A distinctive growling sound emanated from the wild boy's stomach. Cyan gratefully embraced this unexpected opportunity to change the subject.

"Hast thou eaten today?"

Gau shook his head. "Me want to hide, think everyone angry. That why I come here. Door no open here."

The door may have been locked, but the window certainly hadn't been. He would have to show Gau how to lock his own door once their trip to the kitchens was through. Using the table as a lever Cyan pulled himself to his feet. Gau stood as well, but continued to bounce and fidget.

"Come, let us find thee something to eat," Cyan said to the enthusiastic boy. Gau said nothing, but he stomach rumbled once more. To Cyan's shock, his own gut growled as well, as if in response. Gau's tawny eyes sparkled with laughter at the curious coincidence.

"You hungry!" he yipped.

Cyan paused for a moment. "I . . . suppose I could eat something."

He unlocked the door and together they made their way to the kitchen. Between his unfailing politeness and Gau's new exuberance the cook was happy to stoke the dying embers in the fireplace to heat up enough remnants of today's meals to make two plates. At Cyan's prompting Gau tried smiling at the grey haired woman who delivered them their food. When she jumped in surprise and asked Gau if he was feeling poorly Cyan could not blame her. The boy's smile had far more in common with a teeth barring snarl than a typical expression of happiness. That could be worked on tomorrow. For now it was enough that the boy was no longer afraid.

"Gau, thou shouldst eat thy vegetables. Tis rude to push them around your plate so."

"Uwaoo," Gau whined petulantly. He'd finished the meat quickly but, like most children, was less than thrilled about eating anything green and leafy.

"Owai-," Cyan stopped and cleared his throat, forcing his suddenly misty eyes to focus as he did so, "Gau." He spoke with a deep commanding voice that left no room for argument.

Gau made one more noise of discontent, but set about clearing his plate completely immediately after. Perhaps tomorrow he would teach the boy the finer points of using silverware rather than one's fingers. Elayne and Owain's smiling faces flashed before his eyes and for just a moment Cyan thought he could hear their voices. If the nightmare hadn't ended by tomorrow, he would teach Gau that.

This nightmare could not last forever.

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Thankfully after a discussion with my beta reader I now have a rough outline of chapter three, where before I had a gaping hole in the storyline I had no idea how to fill. I can't promise it will come quickly but I promise it will come.