Disclaimer: I do not own FFVI.

A/N: On rereading the story thus far I realize that everything's been a little too heavy…and perhaps I've been too heavy with the description too. So I tried to make things lighter in this chapter (to the point of tweaking Edgar's personality just a little). Please tell me if this 'style' is better, and enjoy!

Chapter 4

Gau was bored.

Up on a cliff, the boy watched lazily as monsters of all kinds roamed the vast expanse of land known to many as the Veldt. Upon his return, he'd found a myriad of new monsters in his home, including a particularly ugly one that resembled the despicable villain Kefka. How did that get there, and wasn't Kefka supposed to be dead? But this unique new 'species' didn't seem to be half as threatening. So Gau went by his favourite principle: live, and let live.

But going back to the main point, he was bored, and still hadn't found anything interesting to do.

Then out of the corner of his eye, Gau saw a dark shadow beneath the Serpent Trench. What was that, another new species come to donate its skills? No; it was too large and too bulky. Gau nimbly leapt off the cliff and galumphed his way to the river's edge. To his shock, he saw a large head sporting a tarnished helmet break the surface of the water. Gau called forth his rusty reserves of language and said, with some difficulty,

"Thou dead?"

The face behind the screen visibly darkened and mouthed something. Gau recalled something a sniggering Locke and a blushing Cyan had taught him. Expletives. The boy growled, and refused to help Sabin fight the trench's fast-flowing current. He thought he heard an indignant splutter from the helmet's air tube.

Then Gau wondered what the monk was doing floating down the Serpent Trench. Surely it wasn't for old times' sake; maybe he was going on an adventure?

Gau clambered into the nearby cave, pulled on his own underwater helmet, and plunged into the water after Sabin. Whatever it was this time, he wasn't going to be left behind!

The letters had been sent six days ago, but Edgar had received no response to date.

The king sank into his chair, sighing. Outside, the skies were blue; the sun blazed a trail of heat across the sand. From the weather, the king thought bitterly, you would never have guessed that Figaro was in such trouble. All Edgar wanted to do was lie back in his chair and sleep for a very long time.

Rather, the king let his thoughts wander. He had heard nothing from Terra since her departure, in spite of parting promises to write him when she was safe in Mobliz. Could the journey from Figaro to Mobliz take over a week? Perhaps, if one considered the dangers in passing through South Figaro…

A pang of regret hit the king. Had he been right to let Terra go, or should he have made her stay within the confines of the castle? Yes, she'd been stubborn, she'd been angry, but ultimately, Figaro was his castle, his territory. Who was Terra to steamroller the king of Figaro flat? Annoyance washed over the king. Thanks to his bad judgment Terra was braving the dangers of travel while he, the world's most affluent ruler to date, wasted his time sighing over relatively trivial affairs! He couldn't take this inactivity much longer.

The king rose from the chair and strode to the throne room. Looking around quickly to make sure no one else was present he swiftly darted behind the throne and pressed a small button disguised as a ruby. A part of the wall creaked open to reveal a narrow staircase. Edgar winced at the sound; he'd have to oil those hinges soon or his hidden passage would no longer be a hidden passage.

Edgar stepped through and pressed another button. The wall closed gently behind him, and he slowly descended the staircase. With every fifth step a set of lights lit up before him, leading him safely down the long, winding staircase.

Finally, he reached a large metal door. Edgar turned the handle and the door swung open (smoothly this time) to reveal a magnificent workshop. Unlike the natural materials he'd used to construct Figaro Castle, the workshop was made entirely of metal (save for the stone benches, which were more practical to work on). Shelves made of aluminum held countless creations dating back to his adolescent days. Down here, there was no need to worry about the chill of bitter desert nights, for the surrounding sand acted as an insulator and small air vents allowed for efficient air exchange. This room, in short, was the pride of Edgar's design. The king inhaled a deep breath and sighed, feeling as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

Edgar's first act upon his ascension to the throne had been to redesign the castle. It had been in ruin; turrets crumbled, walls leaked stale brown water and rat burrows appeared in the most astonishing of places. The secret workshop had only occurred to Edgar when he chanced upon large scraps of metal in a dark cellar. After the renovations were complete, the king had sworn his constructors to secrecy and spent the first few years of royalty in the workshop whiling away months of grief and solitude. Not even Sabin knew about this secret room. Slowly though, kingdom affairs had drawn him out of his shell and forced him to take responsibility. And when he'd finally accepted his position, Locke appeared in his throne room one day dragging a dirty, bewildered girl behind him…

A cheeky grin tugged at the corners of Edgar's lips as he remembered his failed attempts to 'woo' Terra. Terra was a challenge he would gladly have taken on, had Locke not told him of her background. He'd backed off then, not wanting to hurt the innocent girl's feelings, and practised instead on cool Celes who, in the end, only had eyes for his mischievous thief friend. Not that he really cared. Celes was a pastime, but Terra was a completely different story…

Edgar absent-mindedly grabbed a chainsaw prototype off the shelf, thinking. What was he going to do today? Hone his drill, which had been squeaking with disuse since Kefka's defeat, or start on that machine his castle merchants were always bugging him to design…what was it again? Oh of course, a device that could add, subtract, multiply and divide…The king was so lost in thought that he did not hear the footsteps above. By the time he noticed something was amiss, the door had swung open and a large foot had stomped impudently into the room. Edgar gripped his prototype chainsaw, quite forgetting that it could not work.

"Who goes there?" He barked, his heart skipping a beat.

Sabin stepped into the room.

"Flashy." The monk commented.

Edgar's eyes widened.

"How'd you know about-"

"Come big brother, I've known about this place since you had it built. When I saw you press that button with a gleeful look in your eyes, I knew you wouldn't be telling me anything anytime soon. So I just left you to yourself, to let you have your bit of fun." Sabin caught his brother's eyebrow twitching and quickly added, "But I haven't been down here before."

There was a pause as Edgar absorbed the information. Then he smiled tightly. Sabin guessed his brother was shocked that his secret haven had been discovered. But did he have to act so disappointed about it? He changed topics.

"I've got news for you, big brother. Let's go upstairs and talk. Gau's here too, but I made him stay in one of the guest chambers."

The staircase was too narrow, so Sabin went first with Edgar trailing close behind. Nothing was said; uneasiness hung thick in the air. Finally Edgar cleared his throat and spoke, his voice echoing unusually loudly against the walls of the passage.

"I thought you were training on Triangle Island with Gogo."

"Oh, that." The king cocked an eyebrow at his brother's passive tone. "Yeah, there was a big attack on Triangle Island."

"And you fled?" Edgar bit back a grin as he just about felt the pulsing vein in Sabin's neck. If anything, Sabin hated being accused of running from a fight with his tail between his legs.

The monk stopped abruptly and rammed his elbow into the adjacent wall. The door to the throne room opened and Edgar stared at the totaled button.

"You could've been gentler," he groaned. Sabin ignored his older brother and stepped back out into the throne room, stretching his arms.

"It was getting a little stuffy in that passage. But I did want to talk to you about Triangle Island."

Edgar cocked an eyebrow, and his twin continued.

"We were ambushed, and I was forced to escape." There was a pause, and Edgar smirked.

"Don't tell me you travelled all the way here just to cry on my shoulder. Or did you miss me that much, little brother?"

Sabin snorted, but already he could feel his tense, overworked muscles relax. Returning to Figaro always had this effect on him; maybe that was why he stayed away for such long periods of time, to appreciate better the sense of peace and belonging when he came back. Although he'd never admit it, he was more than glad to see that his brother was alive and safe. He took a deep breath. Even if…

"Triangle Island was attacked by Magitek soldiers. There was a whole army of them."

Any hint of a smile vanished from Edgar's countenance. "Why…where did they come from…?"

"That's what I wanted to find out. I thought you'd know something about it." Sabin seated himself in the throne beside his brother, who promptly rose and began to pace agitatedly back and forth across the room.

"When did this happen…and what about Gogo?"

"A few days ago. And I don't know, Gogo shoved me down the Serpent Trench before I could ask any questions...I think he'll be just fine. But big brother, have you heard anything fishy about Magitek knights, armour, anything…?" The king ran stiff fingers through his hair.

"Hell no Sabin, I had no idea Magitek soldiers still existed. I haven't been able to focus on much else, what with the fiasco down in South Figaro."

"South Figaro?"

Edgar cursed himself and turned away from Sabin. "It's nothing, just an annoying distraction."

There it was: the unbearable tension that had made Sabin leave so many years ago. But he wasn't going to ignore it this time. "Big brother, can't you tell me anything about Figaro's affairs these days? I've gotta be honest here, I'm sick of you snooping around and being so secretive and never telling anyone anything. Just because I went away to train doesn't mean that I won't be here for you. I know Terra also came by a while ago, and it seems like you chased her away with your new attitude too. How long is this act of yours going to go on for?"

Edgar was surprised at Sabin's outburst; his brother usually saved the lectures for irritating monsters, not family. "Who told you Terra was here?" He snapped, unable to think of anything else to say.

"I saw Chadron heading to the throne room just as you were going into your workshop so I pulled him aside for a chat. According to him, you were slacking off while Terra was around so she wouldn't find out more than she already had about Figaro's problems."

"I'll need to talk to Chadron about that tongue of his; it is growing looser by the day," the king grumbled, before turning to address his brother. "Terra has enough on her plate, why would I want to go dragging her into danger? And with you training in blissful ignorance on Triangle Island, what else could I have done?"

"You could've told Terra about your problems, you fool. Terra's a friend; but seeing as you can't even confide in your own twin brother, I suppose you wouldn't have been able to tell her anything either!" Sabin retorted.

There was an awful silence. Then the door opened and Chadron entered, his expression grim.

"My king, there are two letters for you. One is from Lord Barron, the other from South Figaro."

Sabin raised an eyebrow, but Edgar chose to ignore his twin and took the letters from his chancellor. His hand shook slightly as he broke the seals on the scrolls, skimming each one in turn. At length the king sighed and handed the missals to his brother. While Sabin read, the king sank into a throne and waited for his brother to finish.

"What does this mean, big brother? No supplies, no help? Mobliz is under attack? And what is Paladeo?" At a wave from the king, Chadron filled Sabin in quickly, from the South Figaro occupation to the sudden, magical existence of Paladeo. As he listened, Sabin's fists curled into tight, angry balls. He whipped towards Edgar.

"Why are you keeping quiet about this? Why are you trying to tackle these problems on your own?" The monk demanded. The king's eyes flashed.

"What should I do then, broadcast to the whole world that Figaro is weak and in danger? I'm doing my best to solve the situation already; those cursed Figaro impersonators are nothing compared to the former Empire. Nothing!"

A knock at the door brought Edgar and Sabin to attention. "My king?

"What is it now, Chadron?"

"Mr. Gabbiani, Mr. Cole and his lady are here to see you." Edgar waved a hand weakly.

"Bring them in. Oh, and please escort Gau here too." As Chadron's footsteps receded, Sabin shot his brother a quick look: You'd better be honest and tell them what's going on.

A few minutes later Setzer, Locke and Celes strode into the throne room with Gau bounding at their heels. Edgar flocked to them with open arms, all traces of anxiety erased from his broad face.

"What a pleasant surprise seeing you all here! Come, my friends, make yourselves at home!"

"I've gone from being the king's best friend to being a generic friend!" Locke sighed theatrically. He nudged the king, who scowled playfully.

"We could have been closer still had you not insisted on going on your thieving adventures."

"It's treasure hunting, can't you remember at least that?"

"Thieving!"

"Treasure hunting, I say!"

"Ahem." Locke quieted next to his wife, who stepped forward to address Edgar.

"I'm sorry to cut the pleasantries short, but we've got to talk to you about serious business Edgar."

Ignoring the king's confused expression, Celes continued: "There have been rumours going on around Kohlingen that Figaro army impersonators have occupied South Figaro and are planning to attack Mobliz. Is this true?"

Edgar could almost hear Sabin's crow of triumph. "Yes, it is." Rather reluctantly, he recounted completely all the events of the past week. At the end, no one could make neither heads nor tails of the situation or place a finger on where Paladeo was and when it had risen to power.

"Poor Terra; all she wanted was a nice reunion," Locke lamented, and was promptly hushed by his wife.

"Maybe they're spreading false rumours about an attack on Mobliz to lure you away from Figaro," Sabin suggested. "Mobliz is conveniently far enough for them; even if you realized what they were up to on the way, you wouldn't be able to backtrack fast enough to prevent an attack on Figaro."

"No, the rumours are true," Setzer intervened. "I was flying over South Figaro about five days ago when a missile flew by, narrowly missing the Falcon and me. Those rascals chased us for at least half an hour before we could make a proper escape. Persistent little buggers…but they'd never be able to match the Falcon in speed and agility. Anyways, one of the pilots got too close so I caught him and gave him a few whacks to loosen his tongue up. Apparently, the impersonators were busy planning an attack on Mobliz."

"And you flew to Locke and Celes before coming here to try and stop me?" Edgar mused. Setzer shrugged.

"I thought you were behind the whole attack, and Locke's the only one who can talk sense into you. So because I thought you were off your rocker, I figured going to fetch Locke first would be most prudent."

"I was not, as you put it so nicely, 'off my rocker'," Edgar retorted. "But five days ago, you say? This is rather worrying." Then a thought hit him, and he groaned. Gau caught the waves of anxiety emanating from the king and moaned in sympathy.

"Terra must be back in Mobliz by now."

"You don't know that Edgar. You haven't heard from her, so maybe she's been waylaid. Hopefully she'll miss the army…?" Celes spoke with a slight tremor in her tone. The king ignored the former Magitek general.

"You're telling me I sent Terra away to have her walk into a massacre? And what about those children she worked so hard to protect, and the people of Mobliz; can I let them get involved in a battle that doesn't even concern them?"

There was a resonating silence; finally the king spoke again. "I'm sorry to be so abrupt, but I have a lot of matters to consider. Please, if everyone could just leave me for a bit, so I can determine the best course of action…"

"Hey, I didn't come here to pose a problem for you to solve alone," Locke retorted. "We're going to figure things out together! Two heads are better than one, right?"

"Too many cooks spoil the broth," Setzer mumbled, and Locke shot him a glare. Sabin stepped forward.

"Brother, are you sure you want us to go?" Edgar waved his hand. As they could do nothing to persuade him otherwise, the meeting was adjourned, and the members filed out one by one until Edgar remained alone in the vast throne room.

The king massaged his temples. What should he do? He felt responsible for Terra; he had to save her from her terrible fate in Mobliz. If Setzer's information was accurate, the South Figaro impersonators could have dispatched their forces anytime between five days ago and now. He would have to find an efficient means of reaching the little town before the attackers did; perhaps he could ask Setzer to lend him the Falcon. But going to Mobliz would mean leaving Figaro unguarded. Could he forfeit the lives of his faithful subjects? Was this one girl worth his whole kingdom? How could he even begin to compare the two?

Looking out the window, Edgar could see the sun setting beyond the horizon, and knew it was going to be a long night.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please R&R!