Chapter 1: Unexpected Encounters
He ran. He didn't know where he was going or what he planned to do once he arrived at his unknown destination. All he knew was he had two options: kill or be killed, and he chose neither. He wasn't afraid of death, nor of killing, but he once knew the ones now on the pursuit. Up until tonight, they had been friends and acquaintances. They had, in the past, been under his command; but now they were his mortal enemies. He didn't take it personally; they were acting on orders from one whose station was higher than his.
Regardless of what his beloved followers once were, he needed to exit the city somehow. He had wanted to serve his kingdom all his life, and so much more. His dreams were now dashed to pieces.
His thoughts were interrupted as he rounded a dark corner to find some large obstruction in his path. It was his worst fear realized.
"Good to see you again, Kain," he said to the armored warrior holding the long spear. "So, you've heard then?"
"Yeah," he quietly replied. "I knew you would come this way, friend." His words were spoken with no guile.
"You always could read my mind, Kain." It was true, ever since the days that he could remember, they had been the closest of friends.
"Well, Cecil," Kain continued on, "I had hoped to be the first one to find you." There was an awfully long pause, and Cecil braced himself for the worst. "I have sent my dragoons to the opposite side of the city," Kain said. Cecil relaxed a bit as Kain lowered his spear. "You should be able to continue onward with no hindrances from them, though I know not about the other troops."
"Gratefulness to thee, friend," Cecil replied, almost unnecessarily. "It has been an honor serving with you. However, I do not know who it is I have served these past few weeks."
"I doubted you could have ever committed treason to our country. And I, myself, have witnessed a dramatic change in the behavior of our lord. There is an air of…rashness that has before been absent."
"Indeed," Cecil responded. "Either way, when I leave now, I may never return, but I fear not for mine own safety and future."
"All is well. I shall take care of Rosa. Rest assured," Kain promised. "Now go, lest peradventure someone find us here." Cecil nodded to his best companion; and after clasping arms in the militant fashion, hastened off towards the eastern wall, not daring to look back.
Cecil knew it would have been easier to run without the sword at his belt or the shield on his back. His heavy armor wasn't making it easy, either; but he knew these items would profit him better in the wilderness, more without the gates, than within. There were more dangerous things than humans, perchance even crueler.
He stopped to rest his body and take a swig of water to replenish his stamina and strength. He had been on the run a while before encountering his beloved friend. He knew the city and had recently chosen his path outside, but after that, he still did not know where he was going. Standing there, his dark blue armor glistened in the light from the torch a few feet off. They were set about the keep at the lighter's pleasure; half-real, half-magical.
He continued his unwelcomed journey and began to finally formulate in his mind where he would go. He had two options: there were, at some distance, two smaller towns, Porre and Truce. He was already headed east, and knew that Truce Village was southeast of his current location; it seemed the obvious choice, as Porre was more western, and much farther south.
A sign of movement ahead closed his plotting. A light was moving towards him, most likely a torch carried by a soldier. He changed directions and went around the now-audible whispering. He encountered more moving torches and shadows and evaded them as well, realizing that as he was approaching the outer wall, activity of the night watch was increasing.
He could hear some shouting in the distance, no doubt the soldiers looking for him. He drew his sword, which was of darker crimsons rarely, if ever, seen in blades. It was a special blade designed to be wielded by the Dark Knight of the kingdom, which, admittedly, he was the one trained to be such. "It" was called Shadow.
His ranking had once been commander, second only to the chancellor; and so it was with all the Dark Knights of the past. Either way, Cecil no longer considered himself of that authority. The grand gates were in sight, but by now he understood he wouldn't simply be allowed to walk out; there would be blood spilt.
He peered around the building near the gates; there were less than he expected—under a dozen soldiers. They wouldn't be much of a problem, as great fighter as he was. However, the two archers could pose a problem, and there were doubtless more perched high atop the walls. He took a deep breath, grasping his sword – yet leaving his shield on his back for quicker movement – he charged.
The first two didn't even see it coming; they fell without even an utterance. An arrow grazed his armor as the more experienced archer fired. A third soldier barely had his sword out of the scabbard when a stroke to the arm disabled temporarily his fighting ability.
Cecil clave in half the next two blades raised against him. One of the now unarmed infantry escaped his counter; the other lost his head in the confusion. Cecil could feel the sword of his own hands yearning for the blood of his "enemies" that were once his allies and a slow, steady thrum of dark power coming forth. Such was its nature. It was time enough at last. Calling forth the powers within him and the sword, he shot outward an array of piercing, flaming daggers. The three still holding swords went down, dead before they even hit the ground. Blue, ghastly daggers evaporated into the night from their bodies, leaving no sign of injury on the dead.
An archer had also been caught in the sea of blades—the Darkness, as it was called, but the archer still standing had been behind two of the soldiers and was unhurt. He hesitated, and then loosed an arrow, catching Cecil in the left upper arm and sending a flash of pain throughout his tiring body. He regretted, just for an instant, not having his shield at the ready. He was upon the archer in an instant, stopping the assailant's heart before he could nock and release another barbed shaft.
Three more arrows and a shouted alarm were sent from above the walls. The cavalry would be sent out soon enough, perhaps even a few mages. Allowing his adrenaline to take him out of range of the archers and outside the city walls, he sprinted as best he could down the gravel. A well-place arrow ricocheted of the shield on his back as he retreated out of arrowshot. Cannon fire could already be heard from a good distance behind, putting to good use their gunpowder. Some trees exploded behind and around him.
Once inside the safety of the overhanging canopy of Guardia Forest, he rested to pull the arrow out of his arms, sending another jolt of pain within. He drank a small vial of potion to quicken his healing and poured a few drops over his wound to stop the bleeding. Cecil then cleaned his bloody blade on the grass as best he could. Feeling only slightly hindered by the injury, he continued pressing forward to the town he had determined to get to: Truce.
Cecil traversed the dark forest, the only light being the two satellites up above, Cereleh and Olea. The other celestial bodies' light could not penetrate the treetops. He moved in a southeasterly direction, in what he hoped was the way towards the village. As he traveled, he stayed a good distance from the road, and every now and then he could hear heavy footfalls of the giant, ostrich-like birds, chocobos, no doubt spurred on by their riders.
Providentially, he was familiar with these parts, but knew the forest contained more than just humans, especially at night. Imps, goblins, sandmen, giant hetakes, all of these and more crept through the forest. Cecil stumbled on an uprooted tree and slowed his pace so as not to end up cutting himself on Shadow. He was glad he kept his sword out, for after a few moments of catching his steadiness and resting, he felt a bloodthirsty presence very near.
He spun just in time to parry a hooked dagger, one of the favorite weapons of the short, greenish goblins. He jumped back a good distance to judge his opponent and search for reinforcements of the same. One came from his right, two more from the front. He was lucky there weren't more.
They were rather grotesque creatures with hearts full of malice. Distorted faces were skewed by large pointed caps. Crooked noses and misshapen ears and faces were pierced variously with metal rings. And though they stood barely to his waist, he knew that they were voraciously violent beasts. He could barely hear their frenzied laughter and see their frantic movements in the dark.
This was also the first time he would face these resilient creatures on his own. The first one that attacked – who wore the reddish cap signifying his leadership of the little band – came at him once more. Cecil parried the goblin's sword—dagger sized for a normal man, and blocked a second, quicker slash with his ready shield. He hewed down the goblin with a swift slash of his own.
The others charged at once, sped on by the death of the leader. Cecil was already exhausted from the long night of his escape from the castle, and even Shadow's power had sapped some of his spirit as well and he was without Ethers to help him recover. He could only block one of the two in front, while striking death into the one goblin on his right. Sharp pain pierced his left leg as the goblin in front hacked ferociously at it. Cecil back stepped out of reach of the two still standing, while by and by they came at him again.
He dispatched the remaining two soon enough and stopped to rest against a nearby tree. He drank one of his last remaining potions to help heal his leg and other wounds from the skirmish. After he went a good distance from the battlefield, he pulled a piece of magical cloth from his side pouch, and dropped it on the ground.
Upon touching the earth, it shone brightly for a second, and began to expand outward. What was once a bare fabric became an average-sized tent. It was more magical than real, and he assumed he would be relatively safe until daybreak.
Morning came too quickly for Cecil. He felt almost more tired than when he slept, though he knew his body was much better for it. The magical tent slowly dissipated in the sunrise, and Cecil prepared to move on.
"Mayhap a hard day of traveling through the brush this day," he uttered aloud. Cecil stopped to feel the morning's cool breeze billow over him, enjoying it for a moment before replacing the rest of his armor and helmet.
Trudging and hacking his own path through the forest, he had much time to think about his future. Cecil paused to rest now and then and to drink from various streams throughout the day. He also tried to forage for whatever tree nuts and fruits along the way. As morning passed into afternoon, he became more and more fatigued by the rough journey.
Lost in thought of what could be in store for him in Truce Village, Cecil suddenly realized he had wandered into a hetake gathering. He had never seen the giant mushroom-shaped monsters before, but had heard of them described by his fellow soldiers, mainly the scouts. He recognized them only from the large domes visible above the ground, which he had originally mistaken for misshapen rock.
To Cecil's disappointment, they began to stir, unburying themselves form the earth. There were at least a dozen of them just in the immediate vicinity, and he feared there could be hundreds more in this dark, damp forest.
Unfortunately, hetakes are over thrice as big as goblins, easily weighing the same amount as a full-grown man. A large, maroon dome, speckled with grey, made up the majority of the oversized fungus' body, and underneath the hump was a grey exoskeleton. It crawled on all four of its bony legs. Comically, Cecil could now see that the exposed ones left their tongues hanging out, much like a dog.
Their expressions revealed their intelligence, nowhere near a human's, or even a goblin's, fortunately for him. They used no weapons, merely throwing their grey masses at intruders or striking out with their skeletal legs – more powerful than one might think. Cecil knew his shield would avail him nothing against them, but quickly drew Shadow.
Four were completely unearthed in a few, short seconds, and without another moment, three lunged towards the trespasser. He arced his sword through one and half-way through the second before the third hetake's body collided into him, sending them both tumbling through the wood.
As Cecil came to a stop on his back, he rolled once more to avoid a no-doubt crippling body slam from yet another toadstool. He felt the tremors as the hetake landed where he has just been, throwing up dirt and debris. He destroyed both hetakes near him before he stood up. He sidestepped another flying mushroom and stabbed an additional one coming from behind. A new hetake swiped its large foreleg at him, lost it in the process, and purplish blood flowed therefrom.
He could finally feel it…the Sword coming to life in his hands, charging its dark energy while sucking into itself the life force of its foes. His spirits rose higher and higher as Shadow sucked out some of his own power. Time enough at last to launch a volley of those fiery, ghostly daggers. He dispatched another nearby hetake, gripped the hilt with both hands, and raised the blade parallel to the ground. Pointing it like a spear, he aimed towards the middle of a large cluster of the fungi and released Shadow's built-up magic.
"Darkness!" he shouted. Instantaneously, a majority of the crusty mushroom-like creatures burst into flames as the incendiary knives pierced through their brittle exoskeletons. Terrible, primeval screams filled the air as Cecil collapsed to one knee from exhaustion.
He had used too much of his stamina in too short a time with no real stop for replenishing his spirit energy. The quick, uneasy rest in the magical tent had been hardly enough to keep him going until now. As he stopped to catch his breath, he glimpsed around the surrounding forest.
Cecil discovered that he unfortunately hadn't killed them all. He could see tens more coming from the surrounding woods. He struggled to his feet and pulled off his masked helmet. Gasping for air, the cool, forest atmosphere helped to calm his trembling body. Fatigue threatened to overcome him.
Two undaunted hetakes jumped towards him from behind. He barely escaped them, managing to mortally wound only one. On reflex alone, he ducked and rolled as two more collided where he had been. He replaced his helmet to free up his hand, and regained his guarded stance.
Before Cecil could rise to his feet, a heavy entity crashed into his back, sending him face-first onto the forest floor. The unseen hetake rolled off of him, but as he was recovering from the shock of the blow, yet another landed on his back. The force of the impact knocked the wind out of him. As he struggled to regain his breath, the creature began pounding and beating his armor, rattling his already bruised body.
Cecil was building his strength to launch the creature off of him, when yet another giant fungus landed on his leg and still another began joining in the battering. He mustered up what strength he could and swung his sword blindly at the hetake on his leg. He managed to wound it, and it stopped assaulting him. As he attempted to thrust at one of the remaining on his back, a grunt of pain escaped his lips; a hetake landed on his sword arm. The terrible pain of his arm caused Cecil to suspect it was broken, a worst-case scenario in his present condition.
He now saw many more of the enormous toadstools before about the area, all coming to see the disturbance in the forest. In this moment of encroaching doom, Cecil began losing hope of survival. Suddenly, the two man-sized hetakes on top of him burst into flames, letting out unearthly shrieks. He began to be astonished, having no idea from where the fire had come. Still more surprising, a wave of something caught his eye's attention, and through the sweat, grime, and mask slits he caught a glimpse of some unseen force blowing through the group of hetakes in front of him.
Indigo-colored blood and other parts of the mushrooms spewed over the immediate forest floor as the unintelligent life forms we torn apart by the force. Cecil shoved the dying mushrooms off of himself, feeling the heat from the spontaneous fire, and looked around with awe to see what was taking place. "Fire!" he heard an unseen voice shout. As suddenly as before, an additional, larger group of hetakes burst into flames.
He turned about and saw a beautiful young woman with wavy, blonde hair tied in a single, long tress. She had deep purple eyes and wore a light red tunic adorned with darker flower patterns, a brown belt at her waist, and brown, high-heeled boots.
Cecil had only a short time to take this all in, as she was running towards him, yelling "Get down!" As she shouted she drew an ordinary blade, and he decided it would be best to obey the order. He quickly dropped to one knee, leaving his right arm dangling at his side. He felt the pain in it as it moved with him. She swung where his head had previously been, and a hetake screeched as it fell dead on top of him.
Cecil didn't hesitate to grab his own sword, Shadow, from the ground with his uninjured left hand as he heaved the corpse off of him. The young woman jumped back defensively, raising her blade. "We mean you no harm, Sir Knight," she announced softly, and more quietly, than he had anticipated. He couldn't help but lower his blade. "We are just trying to help." Cecil let the tip of Shadow sink into the dirt, soft now with fresh blood, and used the sword to steady his person.
"Many thanks, then," he replied. Something she said seemed to incite curiosity. 'We?' She relaxed at his welcoming response, as if she might have been expecting something more challenging, another interesting reaction. 'I suppose they do not often see many knights wandering these parts,' he thought to himself. She cast a wary glance over his shoulder.
"Crono, it's okay. He's not an enemy. You can come out." Cecil followed her eyes behind him to see a young man, no more than 17 or 18, emerge from the bushes behind him. He had long, spikey, red hair and his clothing was a bit shabby and torn form extended use. He had on a large blue shirt, almost a tunic, and matching long pants. His worn boots were similar in style to the young lady's. A vacant sheath hung at his side, and in his hand was an oddly curved sword, dripping with dark-purple blood. A yellow bandana hung on his neck as well.
He took a few steps toward Cecil and gave him a shallow nod of his head, never taking his eyes off of him. Cecil responded by taking off his helmet with his unbroken arm and doing likewise. It was unwise to be rude to someone holding an already blood-stained sword. He received a look of slight surprise from both of them upon removing his helmet. It was true he was young for a warrior of his office, and most people expected him to be older.
"Greetings," Cecil said, "and thank you as well." Crono nodded in reply, this time allowing a large grin to spread across his youthful face. It was a different sight, seeing a young man covered in carnage, holding a trickling blade, and with a crooked grin. Of course…that was all he got in response. Crono still had yet to speak a word.
"He doesn't say much," the girl said. "I'm Terra, by the way. What is your name?"
"Cecil," he said, turning towards her. "As you may have already deduced, I am a knight. I hail from this kingdom's capitol, Baron, to the northeast. Or, I once did, at least." He hesitated, not wanting to explain any further.
"Oh." She pondered on his response for a bit before deciding he didn't possess the air of a criminal, and continued. "I see that you are injured," she said, pointing to the slight gash on his head and then to his arm. "Is it broken?"
"I think so," he said. "I am desolate of potions to quicken the healing and also lacking bandages to wrap it."
"I might be able to help," Terra said. "I have some skill in the healing arts, but…I don't think this is a safe place right now. More of the hetakes may come at any time. Would it be alright to treat you elsewhere?"
"Very well," Cecil replied. "I take it you both know these parts? Lead on, Miss," he said. He stopped to pull Shadow out of the ground with his left hand, clean it as best he could, and sheath it-somewhat awkwardly-in the scabbard at his left side. Terra gave him a curious look as he finished, and then she signaled him to follow. He also once again adorned his masked helmet. Crono stood there, smiling and motioning with his hand for Cecil to start following him. He had already put away his own weapon, and now carried a pack Cecil hadn't noticed before. Cecil fell in line behind them, right arm still dangling limply form his side.
"So what are you doing out here in Guardia forest by yourself?" Terra asked from the front. "It can be dangerous out here, even more so at night."
"I agree, Miss Terra." He paused to find the right words to answer without offending or arousing suspicions with his new found friend. How does one explain the exile of oneself and the reasons behind them without worrying new found friends?
Terra gave an almost inaudible chuckle from the front of the party, interrupting his thoughts.
"Is something the matter, Miss?" he asked politely.
"I'm just not used to people calling me that," she answered. "Just Terra is fine." She glanced at him, giving him a slightly curious look. Cecil wondered what she found so interesting. "And he's simply Crono," she explained. She pointed towards Crono, now walking in front of them. He turned at the mention of his name, and waved, still smiling.
"That's just as well, Terra. Upon returning to the previous matter, I left Baron in haste and neglected to bring necessary supplies," he told her as they walked.
"Where were you leaving to in such a hurry?" she asked quietly, genuinely curious.
"I didn't really know at the time, mayhap Truce? That's the closest village, is it not?"
Terra stopped. "Yeah, that's kind of where we're headed. Anyways this spot should be far enough away. May I…examine your arm?" she asked timidly. Cecil began the process of removing the plate mail from his upper body. Crono stood a ways off, surveying the open glade they had stopped at and searching for any sign of danger.
"Don't worry about the armor…I don't think I need to see it, just to sense it." She stepped toward him and delicately placed her hands on the surrounding armor. Her approach and behavior reminded him of someone else he knew…
"It's amazing that your armor barely has a scratch after those attacks," she said, speaking of the hetakes.
"Yea, it was made by the finest blacksmiths. They are also highly skilled in enchantments, adding magical properties and benefits to protect the material. It is a special armor made for dark…for the knights of my brigade." He did not wish to reveal his identity as Dark Knight of the land and previous commander of the Red Wings if it wasn't required of him. "It even repairs itself through the user's spirit energy."
"Oh," she merely said, concentrating on his arm. "I think it's only a small fracture on the upper arm. I believe I can heal it," she stated, more to herself than to him. "Cure," she muttered aloud as her hands began to glow with a pale, green aura.
Almost instantly, the pain began to subside, replaced with the familiar, warm sensation that usually accompanied the healing arts. Several minutes later, she was sitting down and resting on a nearby fallen tree. Cecil could see beads of sweat on her forehead.
Terra looked up at him. "I guess I used more magic than I was expecting," she said quietly. She looked through the eyelets of the demonic-looking mask. "Does it feel any better?" she inquired.
"It's as good as new, Cecil replied. "Many thanks. I owe you both my life." He used both hands to take off his helmet again, letting his lungs take in some fresh air. Terra could see that the gash on his head was inadvertently healed through her ministrations. She and Crono got a good look at his features in the bright afternoon sun now out from underneath the canopy. He appeared to be in his early twenties and had stark white, short-cropped hair; battle scars were present on his face. His hair, combined with his hardened features, made him look a little older at first glance.
Cecil turned toward her, "I've never seen anyone with a talent in both White and Black magic. Well done." The young woman blushed slightly at the comment from the handsome young warrior. "May I ask how it is you've been gifted with such skill?" he asked.
"I-I'm not sure, exactly," she replied, gazing down at the ground. Cecil caught a hint of exasperation in her speech. "I can just…use it…" This made it even more remarkable to Cecil, for almost all mages had to be taught through rigorous training how to harness the spiritual energy around them. To be able to simply use it at will…
There was a short silence, when Crono came up behind Terra and placed a hand on her shoulder, nodding toward the direction of Truce. She shook in response, understanding the gesture. "I think we should get going soon," Terra said aloud. "Would you like to accompany us on our way to Truce, Cecil?"
"Certainly," Cecil said. "I believe I've had just about enough of this forest. The sooner we depart from here, the better, I say."
Crono nodded an affirmative, and Terra spoke up. "Well, it's settled, then. We'll go together, but I need a little more rest." They all rested and shared some of the provisions in Crono's pack. Soon, they were heading towards the nearest village, Truce.