Chapter 2 – Hollow and of No Use
"Another hallucination…!" Locke groaned, rolling onto his back. The raft bobbed up and down and a wave of salty water splashed in his face. He pulled the blanket back over his head despite the blazing heat. It was the only thing protecting him from the sun's unyielding rays.
He had been at sea for days. So many unbearably hot days and freezing cold nights, all spent hiding under the scant protection of tattered blankets. The food was gone; his first meal had been vomited overboard thanks to the raunchy, constant bobbing of waves beneath him. After that, he ate the dried meat one bite at a time, taking another only when he was certain the first had been completely digested. By now he felt as though a hand had grabbed his stomach and was twisting it in knots. He imagined the view from above – a vulture's-eye view of a hungry, dying man floating around on some planks of rotting wood. Was there even any meat on his bones worth picking at? Probably not much, though the skull bird could still have a fantastic time ripping off his limbs for amusement.
But now, there was something just barely visible on the horizon. He had seen this before, though, and it had never seemed to come any nearer to him. A mere trick of the mind, causing his eyes to see what he so desired to see. Surely this was another illusion, another cruel joke, taunting him.
"Ah-ha-ha..." he bellowed from beneath the blanket. "You think you can fool me again, can you?" He sat up and the raft rocked dangerously. Then he pointed at the mirage and cried out, "I'm not a fool!"
The blazing sun caused him to quickly throw the blanket back over his head. He gazed at his hands; they looked like they belonged to an old man. His own voice echoed in his mind, and he suddenly felt like the fool he'd just denied being.
This was stupid. He was Locke Cole, charismatic adventurer and treasure hunter, not a senile old git. He was confident, energetic, and filled with the stamina of youth. And he certainly wasn't going to let his mind get the best of him, of all things. Though his body was broken, he still had his wits. He wasn't going insane… he wasn't Kefka.
Kefka.
Had their enemy survived the collapse of the world? Did he live to see this wasteland he'd created?
A terrible vengeance coursed through Locke's veins. He hoped so. He wished more than anything that Kefka remained alive, but that he was suffering. Maybe he was stuck on an island somewhere too, his flesh being picked apart by the skull bird. A sadistic grin crept to the corners of his mouth. He only felt slightly ashamed at having delighted in such a thought; after all, he had no reason to feel sympathy for the madman. It was because of Kefka that he was here right now, wasting away in the middle of the ocean. It was because of Kefka that Gau had been put in a position to die such a terrible and senseless death. And if he found that his other friends were no longer alive either, he knew where to lay the blame.
If ever a man deserved to suffer, it was Kefka Palazzo.
Locke vowed that if he ever found him, he would see to it that he received his rightful inheritance of torture. And he didn't care that if with Kefka, his own kind and humanistic self died as well.
- x - x - x -
The heat had caused him to lose consciousness for a while. He had blacked out a number of times before, but on this occasion he was rudely awakened when he hit the water and swallowed a mouthful of the disgusting, salty liquid. His arms flailed as he pulled his head above the waves and gasped, choking. He looked around – the raft was floating away from him. He started to swim toward it when he finally took notice of his surroundings.
He was near land.
There was a beach, just ahead! And it spread out for miles in either direction – this was no island! Elated, he began to swim as fast as he could toward the shore. But he was quickly overcome with fatigue and the muscles in his abdomen cramped up. He took a deep breath and concentrated on simply floating on his back. Perhaps the waves would bring him closer…
It was agonizing how slowly he made his way to land. But at last, he was dragging himself onto the muddy beach, where his skinny legs wobbled violently before he fell to the ground with a crash.
He had to keep moving; he had to find food! He lifted his head laboriously; he would eat that grass up ahead if it came down to it.
But as he looked around, a glimmer of hope raced through his heart as it had never since the day he awoke from his coma. To the east, there was a town. Keeping his mind focused on the goal, he picked himself back up and shuffled off toward it.
The sun was beginning to set by the time he stepped foot onto paved roadway. His clothes had long since dried and were caked with mud and salt. His hair was matted and tangled, and he knew he must be a pathetic sight.
Those suspicions were confirmed when his eyes met those of a middle-aged woman stepping out of a shop. She froze in place, judging whether what stood before her was man or beast.
"Ah…" Locke started, hoping she wouldn't be frightened away. "Sorry…"
"Oh dear," she said, her expression softening to something of pity. "What's happened to you?" The woman approached him.
Locke was so relieved not only to have found another human being, but one of compassionate demeanor. He nearly broke into tears, but held them back.
"I…" For some reason he was dumbfounded. Memories of the past few weeks flashed through his mind with such a ferocity that overwhelmed him. "I didn't think there was anyone else alive…"
The woman shushed him and beckoned for him to follow. He was surprised when she took his arm and gently nudged him on the back to guide him along, apparently unrepulsed by his condition. They walked to the stoop of a small but comfortable house a little further into town. The woman opened the door and led him inside.
The scent of… cleanliness greeted him as he stepped into the house. Locke glanced around; the house was sparsely decorated and very tidy. He eyed a cushioned couch in the corner longingly, and he was at once aware of the pain that enveloped his entire body. Across the room he could see a doorway leading into what must have been the kitchen, and his stomach groaned.
"Why don't you get cleaned up and I'll fix you something to eat," she said, taking his arm once more. He followed her to a small bathroom and watched her fill up the tub. He was amazed at how unquestioningly this woman was going out of her way to help him.
"What is… this place?" Locke asked feebly.
"Ah, this is the town of Albrook," she replied. "Forgive me. My name is Mae."
He introduced himself in return.
"Locke," she confirmed. "Do you know where you were before you arrived here?"
He looked at his feet. "I was on an island. Everyone else died, so I built a raft and just hoped to find land."
Mae let out a sympathetic sigh as she retrieved a fresh bar of soap from the cabinet.
"Well, I'll give you some privacy while you clean up… Or are you injured? Oh no, I should've thought of that sooner," she said with a frown.
"I should be fine."
"All right, then just take your time. Let me know if you need anything."
Locke nodded and Mae walked out, closing the door behind her. He was still in somewhat of a daze at what had just happened. But then he looked over at the tub filled with steaming hot water and all other thoughts dissolved. He gingerly stripped down, joints aching as he contorted his body to peel off the rags that covered him. With another glance at the door, he stepped over to the wash basin and started to scrub the filth off his skin.
Though he wouldn't have said he'd done a completely thorough job, he was certainly cleaner than he had been in all the time since his awakening. Mainly, he was eager to get into the hot bath and experience relaxation for a change. The water had cooled to the perfect temperature by the time he dipped in. He sat back and closed his eyes, and for the first time in so long, he actually felt glad to be alive.
Some time later, there was a faint knock at the door, and Locke jumped, startled out of a daydream.
"Oh, no hurry," came Mae's voice. "I've just put some fresh clothes outside the door for you. There's dinner whenever you're ready."
"Thank you," called Locke. He was still bewildered at how altruistic this woman was, but he was certainly grateful.
A few more minutes later, he reluctantly lifted himself out of the tub and dried off with the thin towel left for him on a shelf. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he cracked the door open slightly and peeked out. When he saw that the area was empty, he reached out and grabbed the clothes sitting just outside of the bathroom.
They fit reasonably well; the pants were rather baggy, but he was just glad to be wearing something that wasn't filled with holes. He glanced back at the bathroom – he had made quite a mess. He quickly mopped the floor with the towel and scooped up his old clothes. They were headed for the trash.
Mae had a modest supper waiting for him in the kitchen. She took the rags from his hands and discarded them for him as he sat down at the table. His stomach growled again but he couldn't bring himself to touch the food.
"Miss Mae…"
"Please, just Mae will do."
He nodded. "I can't thank you enough for all you're doing for me… but, I have to ask – why? Everyone's got their own problems."
Mae gave a knowing smile and took the liberty to slide some steamed vegetables onto his plate.
"Certainly they do," she said, now taking a seat herself. "But we'll never rebuild this world if we don't try to help each other out with these problems. I find that by helping others, I really help myself…"
Locke looked up at her as he spooned in a mouthful of food.
"I lost my husband and daughter when the world collapsed," said Mae, now looking more solemn. The Lord's Light of Judgment came down upon this city and took the lives of so many, my only daughter among them."
"Light of Judgment…?"
Mae looked surprised. "Have you not seen the great beams of light that sweep across the sky? It doesn't happen too often these days, but still… I couldn't imagine there was a place on the planet that they didn't reach."
Locke set down his fork. "I lost consciousness on that… day the world changed. I just woke up a few weeks ago, to find myself on an island with only one other person. He had been caring for me all that time… but then he was killed by a great, flying beast." His eyes met Mae's. "Have you seen a… a 'skull bird'? It's a huge, demonic-looking thing with bat-like wings and a skull for a head."
"Death Gaze," she replied with a grimace. "For centuries he had been but a myth – I hadn't even heard of it myself, but that's what people have been saying. When the earth split apart he rose from the depths of Hell. Now he terrorizes the skies… We have been fortunate to not have been bothered too much by him here in Albrook, but I've heard terrible stories."
The memory of seeing that creature hovering over Gau's body, picking at his flesh, sickened Locke to the point of losing his appetite. His stomach felt surprisingly full anyhow.
"So you slept for over a year?" asked Mae, obviously changing the subject. "That's amazing… It's a miracle you're alive today."
"Yeah…" Locke agreed. There were so many questions burning in his mind. He wondered where he should start.
"So, what happened after the Floating Continent crumbled?" He figured that even if she hadn't seen it herself, everyone must know about Gestahl and Kefka and the Statues by now.
"It's difficult to say what the exact details are. I've heard so many rumors about the Empire and Espers and magic that I don't know what to believe. It seems to me that some ancient magic was disturbed, probably due to the power-hungry meddlings of the former Emperor, and suddenly the world was just… torn apart. It was the Apocalypse, to be frank. They say the Lord descended and unleashed his fury upon this planet by sending out the Light of Judgment to smite those who displeased him. Now he sits proudly on his throne at the top of the great tower in the center of this continent."
The Lord…?
"There are those who worship him out of fear," she continued, hardly masking the disgust in her voice. "But he is no God of mine."
Could it be… Kefka?
"He slew my daughter first. Then my husband died trying to help another village that had been attacked. No… The Lord God should be merciful and gracious. Whatever is up there is not God. God is dead."
Locke wondered whether he should tell Mae about his first-hand experiences on the Floating Continent, about how all of this was so much more evil than she even imagined because it was really the work of Man. He decided it could wait for now.
- x - x - x -
Locke spent the night, presumably in Mae's late daughter's old room. The two shared further conversations during which Locke learned about the present state of the world: The Empire had crumbled along with the Floating Continent. There were always rumors that former military leaders were trying to regroup and rebuild the Empire, but there was little evidence of their success. For the most part, people were simply trying to survive. The major cities seemed to be governing themselves, maintaining a low profile lest the Light of Judgment come their way.
Mae invited Locke to stay with her as long as he needed – an offer he graciously accepted, as he would certainly need some time to recover. In the days following, he explored the town, hoping to discover an old friend but knowing deep down that he shouldn't be too disappointed when he found no one. The world was a big place, and he could spend years searching without ever reuniting with any of his former companions.
He finally decided to reveal to Mae who he really was – or rather, who he had been.
"The Returners?" she exclaimed, pausing from her kitchen work.
"It's true… I was there on the Floating Continent when it crumbled."
Mae dropped the vegetables she was pickling and sat down at the table with Locke. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
Locke opted to continue his story in lieu of a straight answer.
"We'd been tracking the Emperor for a long time, and we knew he was on the verge of doing something extremely dangerous," he said, waving away the details. He had no desire to spend hours telling tales of their epic journey in full at this point. "A group of about ten of us followed him to the Floating Continent…"
"How did you get up there?" she asked.
"We had an airship."
Mae no longer looked at Locke with pity, but with awe and reverence.
"We found Gestahl and his henchman Kefka by the three ancient Statues –"
"So the Statues are real?"
"Yes. They were… sacred to the Espers." He found his own memory fuzzy on some of the details near the end. "Gestahl thought that if he could harness the power of the Statues, he could rule the world."
"He was a vile man," spat Mae. "It killed me to live in this city, ruled by the Empire. But I would've been imprisoned if I'd ever voiced my true feelings here."
"Turned out that Kefka was the real threat," Locke continued. "He killed Gestahl and threw his body off the Continent. Then he… disturbed the balance of the Statues, and that's when things began to fall apart…"
He paused, trying to recall everything that had happened amidst the chaos. Mae watched him in silence.
"We just tried to escape after that. We managed to make it back to the airship, but it must have crashed then. I think I was thrown from the ship before it hit the ground, though… Next thing I know, I'm waking up on an island in the middle of nowhere and I've lost a whole year."
There was another moment of silence.
"I guess we didn't succeed in what we'd set out to do."
Mae looked deep in thought. The wrinkles around her eyes and mouth were very noticeable just then.
"Can you… use magic?" she asked finally.
Locke hesitated. "I could… but I was never very good at it. It wasn't Magitek," he added quickly.
"No, I wouldn't expect a Returner to wield the Emperor's bastard magic."
"Well…" He thought of Celes. But he let a few more words go unspoken.
"I just… I'd heard stories about the Returners. Some were saying that they were magic-users, and I couldn't understand how that was possible."
Locke stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the small, greenish crystal. He'd tied it to the insides of his clothes before setting sail on the raft, and it had miraculously stayed with him on his journey. He wondered how much he should be telling Mae, but he was still feeling that desperation that comes from lack of company and it was nice to have a sympathetic ear to listen.
"This is Magicite. It's kind of what's left of an Esper when it dies. The Esper's spirit is housed within here, I guess, and it's possible to call upon it and harness its power. Whereas Magitek was the infusion of an Esper's essence into a human by force, the use of Magicite is entirely up to the will of the Esper."
Mae gazed at the crystal in awe, but to Locke's relief, she did not ask to handle it herself.
"You sacrifice your own energy to call upon the Esper or its magic," he continued. "Some people – I guess the more spiritual ones; I could never really figure out why some were better at it than others – were able to learn spells permanently so that they didn't need to carry the Magicite to cast. I wasn't one of those people. Anyway, I tried using this back on the island when Death Gaze came around but I… I wasn't strong enough." He regretted bringing the subject back to Gau.
After a few moments, Mae stood up and went back to her work.
"What will you do now?" she asked, and Locke replaced the Magicite in his pocket.
"I'd like to try to find my friends… But I have no idea if they're even still alive."
"And then will you fight again?"
Locke looked up. "Fight?"
Mae shrugged, a sad expression on her face. "I know the Empire is gone, but all is still not right with the world. Far from it, really…"
"You mean 'God' in the tower and the Light of Judgment."
Mae turned away to hide her emotions. Locke looked down at his arms resting on the table. They were still as skeletal as ever.
"I don't know if I can fight anymore…"
The woman faced him again, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. "No, no, I don't mean to put the weight of the world on your shoulders. You've already been through that once, right?" She gave a weak laugh, trying to brush off the depressing air that had settled around them. "It will work out in the end… We'll pull through somehow."
Locke could only gaze at her in amazement; this woman who'd lost her whole family to the wrath of God was still optimistic about the future of mankind.
- x - x - x -
A week later, Locke was beginning to get anxious. By now it was clear that none of his former companions were in Albrook, and even questioning some of the locals had brought him no news of their whereabouts. Either they hadn't been through here or they hadn't made an impression on anyone.
He had taken to testing his strength and exercising as much as possible without negatively impacting his body. He was so frustrated with his lack of muscle tissue, knowing that he would be unable to survive traveling on his own, that he became irritable. He was sick of waiting around for something to happen on its own. It was time to take action.
Mae could tell he was itching to leave, and Locke felt bad that he was subjecting her to his ill temper when she was being nothing but hospitable to him. He did the best he could to remain pleasant around her.
But then the next day she delivered some excellent news.
"There's a relief convoy headed for Tzen that's leaving in a couple days," she said, interrupting his weight lifting of water jugs. Locke looked at her with interest.
"I know you want to leave… to start looking for your friends. And while I'd be worried for your safety, as I've come to think of you as one of my own in this short time… I know that you have your own life to live.
"Tzen has been a target for the Light of Judgment recently… The Bastard Lord has been unmerciful toward the great city. As we've been rather fortunate here in Albrook, a group of volunteers have decided to go to Tzen to help the citizens recover and rebuild. I couldn't let you leave on your own, but perhaps you'd be safer traveling with a convoy…"
"Thank you – oh, this is great!" said Locke, his old adventurous spirit rising up within him. This was exactly the kind of thing he was hoping for. And as he had no leads, Tzen was as good a place as any to start his journey.
But Mae looked troubled.
"Nevertheless… It will still be very dangerous. This was… Well, my husband went on one of those relief trips many months ago. The Lord apparently didn't like the idea of people going out of their way to help others recover from his wrath. My husband – and the rest of the convoy – were struck down by the Light of Judgment." Her voice had fallen to just above a whisper.
Locke was at a loss for comforting words. "Well…" he tried, "I suppose I have to get out there somehow. I think I'm too weak yet to take on the beasts of the wild on my own, but I'm just itching to get started…!"
The older woman gazed off at the window, lost in her own thoughts. "You're really an inspiration, Locke," she said, her eyes still fixed on empty space. "You've been through so much hell, and yet you still keep going. I want so badly to keep you here now, to hold on to this resilience you show and protect it." She looked over at him, finally. "But then you wouldn't be out there fighting, would you. And I don't necessarily mean that you'll challenge the Fallen God face to face… Just that you're fighting for something we all need to be reminded to fight for. For friendship, love, life in general… It's so easy to give up and relinquish all to the oppressor. Your defiance of submission and death is the kind of rebellion that we all need. Perhaps it could even be his downfall if everyone could gather the courage to stand up for these precious things…"
He wasn't sure he should be the one taking credit for being 'inspirational' at the moment. Sure, he planned to travel and account for his missing companions, but he was lost on his own. If they regrouped and retook their position as rebel fighters, he would gladly join in. And certainly, if he found the strength and the opportunity, he would slay Kefka for his atrocities. But the thought seemed to be borne out of personal vengeance anymore, which was hardly noble.
Furthermore, it was somewhat ridiculous to think such ambitions could be carried out by a man stripped of all his former power. But then, what other path did he even have to choose? There was truly nothing else worth living for.
Mae loaded him up with supplies and money, which he reluctantly accepted only due to her unwavering insistence. With the gold, he purchased two simple daggers, a sturdy black leather vest and gauntlets at the armory, and a pair of new boots at the shop next door. He filled a small pouch with medicinal herbs and an elixir and secured it to the side of his belt. Finally, he took a strip of cloth and tied his long hair back. He wasn't fond of the look, but it served as an odd sort of reminder that things were different now, and he was no longer the person he had been but a year ago. Perhaps if he ever again felt settled in life, he would cut his hair back to the length he was used to.
Mae watched as Locke joined the group of seven other men and helped them load up the carts. Women and children wept for their husbands and fathers, fearing they would never return. Mae had been among them the day her own husband had left, but today she stood wearing an expression of solemn acceptance. Crying did nothing, she'd told Locke, when meanwhile these brave souls were actively trying to make a difference.
The convoy was ready to go just as dawn broke. The sky was overcast and a muddy shade of purple, as it often appeared in these post-apocalyptic days. As the first chocobo-drawn cart began to move forward, Locke looked back at Mae and smiled. I'll keep fighting. I won't give up on this world, he wanted to say, though he didn't quite believe it himself just yet. She waved as they drove north, away from Albrook. A twinge of sadness pinged in his heart to leave her behind, but he knew his destiny lay in the road ahead.
Chapter title taken from: Travis - "Driftwood"
