Shadowed Heart--Part 7

See disclaimer in Part 1

Author's Note: Thank all of you so much for sticking with my humble story so far. As I have several other fanfictions I'm working on, including an FFTA one-shot which is still in the works, the final chapter in a Golden Sun pentology, two massive Lunar stories, and a Lunar one-shot which has been very neglected, I can't always be working on this even though it's been my main focus lately. However, knowing that the story has a fan base, however tiny, keeps me going.

Chapter seven brings the first part of the story to a close, or to put it in DBZ terms, the first "saga". I've still got three major "sagas" to go, as well as the closing story, which I think many people will find to be very, very interesting. But I can't tell too much about that now can I? Please don't get too irritable that I'm "dangling the carrot in front of your noses"--if a rabid fan kills me, then the story won't go on, now will it?

Okay, I promised a friend that I was going to do this, so I'll take care of it now--my recommendations for other FFTA fanfics. First of all, there's "White as Snow", which is a very good one-shot that basically concerns the Marche/Ritz pairup. If you haven't read it yet, read it ASAP--I've made a few oblique references to its plot and consider it to be one of the best stories I've read so far on ff-net! Also, there's "A Return to the Homeland, Sort Of", which I also consider to be a very good story that I'm rabidly waiting for more of. It hints to the original FFT a whole lot, but I don't find it to be too much of a problem even though I've never played FFT (sob). Thirdly, there's "Stray Ends", which is also very very good but not, I'm afraid, for Llednar-kun's fans, as he's made to look completely evil in the story (so untrue!). Still, the quality of the writing is good enough for it to have made my "favorites" list, and the plot is interesting enough, even though I'm peeved that my oniichan is made to be the villain. Last and DEFINITELY not least, there's Kaelle's story, "Surrender", which is SOOOOOOO good and a total MUST-READ for any members of FMTHDS (Fans of Mewt's Totally Hot Dark Side, a.k.a. the Llednar fan club). If you have any trouble finding these stories on the FFT/FFTA page, you can always look at my author's page to find them. (Note as of update: None of these are on my faves list anymore. RttH,SO is still under FFT.)

Lastly (as this is getting to be LO-ONG! OO;;;), those of you who've watched .hack/sign may have noticed some similarities between Tsukasa-chan and Llednar-kun in my writing. So have I. I don't know why I did it, but I've added the same elements that made Tsukasa's life so miserable (abusive "father", controlling mother figure who insists that he's something he's not, periodic flashbacks to memory fragments) to Llednar's. I must :really: be obsessed...

Okay, I'll stop blabbering on and let you lot read now. Peace to the world, and BRING THE NOISE!

---

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling as though I'd just been caught in a chocobo stampede. Groaning, I sat up. "Did anybody get the license plate?"

Marche, Ritz, Mewt, and Doned were all lying unconscious on the ground, although they were starting to show signs of coming out of it too. I looked around. We were in a room with walls made of wooden planks, as were the ceiling and floor. Marche was wearing his soldier's uniform of a blue shirt, red bandanna, and leather shorts and boots, with silver plates strapped to his shoulders, elbows, and knees. Ritz was dressed in a frilly, slightly sheer light pink dress with heavy armor over it. Mewt was in his prince's clothes, and Doned wore the attire of an apprenticed thief. Each of them was armed.

As for myself, I was overjoyed to find that my attire was that which I'd always worn while in Ivalice--thin clothes with deceptively light armor beneath. And even better--my faithful blade SaveTheQueen was sheathed at my side.

"Ouch," Marche gasped, sounding as though all the air had been forced from his lungs. He sat up, looked around, and sighed in relief. "I guess we made it."

"Yeah..." I replied. "Where are we?"

"I think... I think we're in the Prancing Chocobo! In Cyril!" Marche looked around excitedly. "Yeah, this is definitely it! We did it! We're back! Hey! Hey!"

"Will you do me a favor and be a little less cheerful and loud," Ritz complained, sitting up and shaking out her long, white hair, which was still tinted pink at the tips. "That hurt. And you're hurting my ears."

"Sorry."

Doned whimpered and sat up, looking dizzy. Mewt followed him a few moments later. We reported to them where we thought we were, and they agreed. We got up (more or less) and headed out of the room.

Marche was ecstatic. "Oh, man, this is my clan's hangout! Everybody will most likely be here waiting for us! They're gonna be SO surprised!"

Ritz grabbed him by the shoulders, smiling a little. "Down, boy! Take deep breaths! Don't knock yourself out again by hyperventilating. It will be very embarrassing."

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, guys. I just can't believe that I've gotten the chance to see my friends again!"

Mewt and I exchanged looks and sighed. A vivid red eye tattoo had formed on Mewt's forehead when we passed through the barrier between worlds; it was the mark of Ivalice's royalty, only branded upon the ruling family. Alchemists, sages, and other special mages bore the symbol upon their armor and robes, linking them to the Bervenian monarchy. I myself had the eye tattooed in black at the nape of my neck, something of which I wasn't really that proud. As it was both small and in black, it signified the fact that I was technically a royal servant.

"Let's go," Doned said with a wry smile. "I'm excited too. I'm gonna get to see Nono again!"

We crept through the halls of the inn to the tavern, keeping as silent as we could--there was an unspoken agreement between us that our return was to be a surprise that we wouldn't be belting out before we even showed ourselves. Marche snuck forward into the room, then returned a moment later, looking gleeful.

"They're all there," he reported with barely contained enthusiasm. "Let's just jump on out, everyone!"

"All?" Ritz asked, raising one eyebrow. She looked as though she was struggling to keep a lid on her own excitement. "All as in your clan, or all as in--"

"Everyone," Marche interrupted. "Shara and Ezel and Babus and Nono and everyone. All the people who've helped us are there! Let's go!" He took Ritz by the arm and bounced into the room, followed by Doned and Mewt. I started to go after them, but stopped. Since none of the people they'd worked with and I were on friendly terms, a fight would only ensue if I showed myself. A deep sadness settled over my heart, and I stepped back into the shelter of the hall, where I could watch without being seen.

Gathered in the common room were two dark-furred moogles, three viera--two snipers and an assassin, two bangaa, Babus, a human blue mage, and a gray nu mou that I didn't recognize. At Marche's cheerful, "Hey everybody!" they all turned as one, gaped, and began shouting enthusiastically.

"Montblanc!" Marche cried, embracing the elder of the two moogles, who had tan fur and was dressed in a green tunic and pale brown leggings.

"Nono!" Doned yelped, glomping the younger moogle, who had dark fur the color of chocolate and was clad in a green gadgeteer's uniform.

"Shara!" Ritz made a beeline for one of the snipers, a busty, short-haired viera teenager in a cropped shirt and slit skirt.

Wordlessly, Mewt sailed straight into Babus' arms and promptly broke down into tears.

After several hugs were exchanged as well as greetings, everyone started asking at once how my friends had come back. Constantly interrupting each other, Marche and the others related the story of Remedi's final blessing upon Mewt. There was a whole lot of laughing and crying and still more hugging and talking over one another and the sense of being one big giant family. I felt like more of an outsider than ever, and I longed with every fiber of my being to run out and join them, but I knew better. I really was an outsider. Why had I ever wanted to come back here? I should've just stayed with Cid.

Unfortunately for me, that gray nu mou spotted me watching longingly from behind the door. "Excuse me... boy!" I ducked behind the door a little more, hoping that he'd decide to go back to celebrating. Naturally, he didn't.

A few moments later, Marche came around back and knelt down next to me. "Why aren't you coming out with the rest of us?" he asked quietly. "I didn't even notice that you weren't there until Ezel pointed you out back here. Is something wrong?"

"Yes, something is wrong," I said thickly, my voice starting to contort. "You're all so happy. Things could never be that way if I showed my face. You know that most everyone out there is someone I've fought against, someone who probably hates me? That these are more of the people who are frightened of me, because I'm so different? Oh, not to mention--they think I'm dead." I hid my face, curling up into a ball. "I should've just stayed on the other side. There's no place for me here anymore."

There was a long pause, and Marche put his hand on my shoulder. "Well, I'm not happy when you're so upset," he told me. "You're my friend. It makes me feel bad, when I know that you're miserable back here and not having fun with the rest of us. There are people out here who don't even know you yet, and I'm sure that you could make a good start. And as for the people who fought you--I know that Babus, at the very least, would want to patch things up with you."

I laughed, although it sounded twisted and forced. "Yeah, right. Babus, wanting to make things up with me? I almost killed him. I beat him within a few inches of his life. He would not want to see my face again. He's prob'ly glad that I'm 'dead'."

"You could've killed him, but you didn't," Marche said patiently. "I think that says a lot for you. And actually, he feels awful about what happened to you. We were just talking about it. That was part of what made me realize that you were still back here. Now, come on. You'll relieve a lot of guilty consciences by coming out, including your own. And Ezel wants to meet you. Now, come on. No more nonsense out of you today, Llednar." He hauled me upright, but I dug my heels into the ground and shook my head. "They're just going to get curious anyway! Come on... please?"

I shook my head and leaned against the wall. "No... maybe later. I just... I don't think it would be a good time, right now."

Marche sighed and left, shaking his head. "There wasn't anything I could say to coax him out," he reported to someone nearby. "I'm sorry. He says now probably wouldn't be a good time. I'm getting kinda worried about him... he seems so sad..."

I curled up and tried my hardest not to cry.

"Now where have I seen your face before?" someone asked. I looked up, startled. The gray nu mou I'd seen with the others had come over to sit by me. He'd probably been the one who'd asked Marche to get me out with the others. He looked like an alchemist, but his robes were dyed a deep hermetic's violet, and there were several law and antilaw card frames in his belt, as well as bits and pieces of amber. "Not attached to Marche's clan, I'm sure. At the palace...?"

"You're Ezel," I whispered breathlessly. "Ezel Berbier. THE Ezel Berbier. You invented the antilaw... didn't you?"

Ezel laughed. "So, I've gotten to be that infamous? Yes, my boy, I'm 'the' Ezel. But where have I seen you before? You look so familiar, but I can't put my finger on it..."

I made a face. "You're probably thinking about Mewt. People say that we look a lot alike."

"Who are you, then?" Ezel asked, cocking his head to one side. "I'm almost certain that I've seen or heard of you before."

I shrugged, starting to feel a little uncomfortable. "Well, my name is Llednar Twem... I guess you could say that I'm one of Mewt's guardians. Was," I corrected myself hastily. "I'm a bit between jobs right now." If Mewt went back to the palace, there was no way that I'd be able to follow him. Remedi wouldn't stand for it.

Ezel looked at me thoughtfully. There was a long pause before he next spoke. "So, I'm guessing that you've made a lot of enemies around here, much like our Mr. Swain, and so now you're a little on the shy side about presenting yourself?" I nodded. That was exactly it. "Well, I don't think you need to worry. Marche's clan is a very forgiving bunch. I doubt that you know this, but they've accepted myself, Miss Shara, and Babus into their ranks."

I raised my eyebrows. "That's certainly interesting. Especially that Babus would actually join a clan. He was always so against the wars--before, you didn't introduce the subject around him unless you wanted an earache."

Ezel seemed to find that amusing. "How typical. But then, Babus always was a hypocrite."

I glared. "No he's not!" Ezel laughed. I sulked. "Not when I knew him."

"Perhaps not, but I knew him as a boy. He was always saying one thing, and then a while later, doing something completely the opposite." Seeing my stunned expression, Ezel chuckled. "We're almost the same age, he and I. He's only a few years older than I am."

"Huh." I paused, weighing my question. "We fought a while ago, at the Ambervale... and I almost killed him. Ezel, do you think... d'you think that Babus is still angry with me?"

The gray nu mou considered me carefully. "So you're the one that he told me about," he mused. "The biskmatar, who was supposed to have died... Believe me, my boy, if Babus was ever angry about that, which I seriously doubt, he will have gotten over it by now and will simply be glad to see you alive. So will most of the clansmen and women out there." He smiled and put a hand on my shoulder. "So why not stop hiding and let all the nice people breathe more easily?"

A momentary flash of fear roared in my mind, and I wanted to run. Shoving it away, I nodded. Cowardice would just destroy what might be my only chance to apologize for everything that had happened, for everything I had done. Ezel helped me up and led me into the common room, thankfully not drawing any attention to us.

Marche spotted us and headed over, giving us a relieved smile. "Thank you so much for helping, Ezel," he said fervently.

Ezel shrugged and headed over to the others in the clan, falling into a boisterous conversation with Doned and the young moogle called Nono. Marche laid one arm around my shoulders, and I looked at him uncertainly. He obviously had something in mind--I didn't. I supposed I'd have to trust him...

"Hey, everybody!" he called, raising his voice. "There's someone special here with us today..." I cursed under my breath. Great plan, Marche. I wished I could disappear. "I'd like to introduce to you our newest clan member!" Stunned and wide-eyed, I jerked away. Marche beamed at me. "Well, did you think that we'd just leave you to roam around looking lonely? You're one of us now, for however long you want to be."

Aware that I was blushing, I looked at the floor. "A-arigatou!" I finally managed, bowing deeply and peering up through my bangs. I slowly realized that the room was deathly quiet.

There was the soft sound of a footstep along with the creaking of a wooden board, and I turned slightly. Babus had been the one to step forward; he and all the others gathered (except, of course, for Ritz, Mewt, Doned, and Ezel) were staring at me speechlessly.

"Llednar... it's you... you're alive!" This had to be the first time I'd ever seen Babus so astonished. His normally impassive blue eyes had gone wide, and under his silver-white fur he'd become pale, giving him an almost ghostlike appearance. "But... but how?"

My vision blurred as tears prickled and gathered at the corners of my eyes, though I vainly tried to blink them away. "I... I..." The words I had planned for this moment all seemed to fade and crumble away. "Babus, I... I... I'm... I'm so sorry!"

"You have nothing to apologize for," he replied, slowly shaking his head.

"But I do," I whispered miserably. "What I did... it could've killed you! There isn't any excuse!"

Babus came forward, holding my gaze with his own. "We each did what we thought was the right thing. I can forgive that... and I already have." For a moment, I thought I caught a glimpse of a faint tracing of pink, upraised scars through my old partner's fur.

I stood silent for a moment, struggling for control of myself, and promptly gave up. I collapsed into Babus' arms and sobbed, giving a repeat performance of what Mewt had done upon meeting his old friend.

"Don't you worry," Babus told me reassuringly. "Everything will be fine. You have a home now with the rest of us."

I waited to cry myself out, knowing that holding back tears would only cause a greater flood the next time I felt this way. After what seemed like several hours, I drew back, scrubbing away the salt trails left behind on my face with the back of my hand. "I know," I said thickly. "That's why... it was worth it to come back here, after all."

"Right!" Marche announced happily. "Now let me introduce you to the gang! This--" he pointed to the second sniper, who was clad in muted shades of green "--is Miserie Ta'kanu, our resident psychotic. We mean that in a nice way, Miserie."

Miserie grinned. "Of course you do. And even if you didn't, I'd still take it as a compliment. I already know that I'm crazy."

"And his name is Neuman Kamiya," Marche continued, gesturing to the male bangaa, who appeared to be a white monk.

"Pleassure'ss all mine, I'm ssure," he grumbled, rolling his eyes and going back to whatever he'd been doing with the broken set of gaiters he was carrying.

"There's no talking to him before lunch," Marche explained. "She--" he pointed at the third viera, the assassin "--is Miserie's little sister, Daryle."

Daryle bowed shyly, then retreated behind her sister.

"And our lady here is Eleono Mochida." A short but strong-looking female bangaa nodded, giving me an intense gray-eyed stare. "She was born into the noble class, but she got cursed, and, well..."

"Oh, knock it off Marche," Eleono said dryly. "He certainly doesn't need to hear my whole life story." I raised my eyebrows. Just by listening to Eleono, I could tell that she was highly bred--the natural hiss of the phonetic "s" that all bangaa carried had been trained out of her speech.

"Okay, okay. You've already met Montblanc, though quite briefly, and this is his brother Nono." Marche proceeded to introduce Shara, who stared at me curiously. "And my fellow human here is Roland Neksu."

A quiet blue mage who'd sat in the corner smiled at me. There were flashes of silver, white, and opal in his costume--bits and pieces of jewelry that noted him as a powerful White Mage Adept. Why he'd decided to become a blue mage was beyond me. "Hello. I do believe we've met before."

There was a sudden, blurred image of this same mage Roland sitting beside me in a room choked with heat and the scent of fire-smoke. I frowned slightly, and it faded. "Do I know you?"

Roland smiled. "Well, I'm not surprised that you don't remember. After all, you were half-delirious and dying from fever at the time." (Author's Note: This story is still to come. Look for it later--its title is "White Sakura".)

I didn't understand, but decided that I would ask later. To my great relief, everyone seemed happy to have me around (and alive), and most were curious about my side of things as well. There was a great deal more introducing and shaking hands and hugging and laughing our fool heads off and crying and interrupting each other and that sort of thing. The only difference was that this time, I was involved.

There is just something very special about being a part of something like that, especially for the first time. It's as though it's what you always needed and always wanted and had to have, but you never knew it until that moment. It's a wonderful thing, being accepted. It's even better to find a place to belong.

After a while, Marche tapped me on the shoulder and beckoned, leading me out of the inn and towards the outskirts of town. Throngs of people chattered aimlessly to each other as they went about their daily business, and the noise was getting to be deafening.

"Where are we going?" I asked Marche once I caught up to him.

"You'll see," he replied, although I thought his voice sounded a little sad. We walked on, moving towards a part of town that didn't seem to see many people.

Finally, Marche stopped under a large tree, beckoning me to come sit by him. Curiously, I did. There was a small stone plaque in the ground, with the hilt of a sword fixed behind it. Leaning down, I read the engraved letters:

Gelarto Neksu

Paladin

19XX-20XX

I paused, letting it sink in. "This is... a grave?"

Marche nodded, looking at the ground. "Yes. The grave of a very close friend. He was the only member of our clan we ever lost. I wish you could've met him. You'd be the greatest of friends..."

"What happened?" I asked softly. Marche had come here wanting to tell me.

"We lost him in Jagd Dorsa," was the quiet reply. I nodded. Jagds, lawless areas where judges could not go, were one of the few areas in Ivalice in which people needed to fear death. The judges of each fight were truly there because of the danger of being killed in engagements--with them around, no one needed to be afraid of dying.

"Gelarto was... always a gentle soul. He hated fighting, but his family already had two mage sons and needed someone to carry on the tradition of becoming a knight. Vivi, the eldest, is a Black Mage Adept. Roland, well... you already know he's a White Mage Adept and Blue novice. Gelarto didn't really want to be a soldier, but his father persuaded him to, for the sake of the Neksu tradition. He'd been friends with Montblanc and Miserie for a long time, so when they started Clan Dragon, he joined up to get a better time of things. When I showed up, he was my best friend, other than Montblanc. Part of the reason he became a paladin was to heal others--he was that against fighting. Paladin was his only way to go.

"We had to go to Jagd Dorsa a while ago, to help Montblanc's little brother Nono. Nono has this airship, see, and it'd been attacked. The bandits who were responsible were hiding in the Jagd. I decided that we had to go and help, but everyone else was afraid--Gelarto most of all.

"I think he knew somehow that he was destined to die there. He was so scared... but I had to go and talk him into coming with us. I had no idea what was going to happen--none of us did.

"When we attacked the bandits, we had a pretty easy time of it, until one of them snuck up behind me. Gelarto saw it, and he used his 'cover' ability to switch us. He took the blow for me... it went so deep, it--it must have destroyed most of his vital organs. He cried out... I'll remember the sound for the rest of my life.

"We went crazy, after that. Only one of the bandits escaped alive. We killed them all, made them pay dearly for Gelarto." Marche ran a hand through his bangs, breathing raggedly. "I've never felt rage like that before... and I hope that I never feel it again. I killed people. I feel as though my hands will never be clean of those murders.

"I was with Gelarto at the end. It took him a full three hours to die from his wounds--I stayed with him the entire time as the blood drained from his body. It was horrible... to go like that..." Marche shook his head and closed his eyes, shuddering slightly. I waited patiently. He was probably watching his friend's death over in his mind. "We brought his body back here, and his sword... the Excalibur. Roland helped me seal it into his grave. Gelarto had made me promise to keep his sword out of the wrong hands until the destined one came to claim it."

I looked at the sword. It was sunk to the hilt into the earth, and I could now detect the faint white sparkle of magic around it. Marche put his hand on my shoulder.

"I want you to draw that sword, Llednar." I stared at him, shocked, about to protest. "I've seen something strongly resembling Gelarto in you. You don't show it often, but you have his kind heart. Excalibur is yours--I'm certain of that."

I looked at the Excalibur, then at my own sword SaveTheQueen. "But, my blade..."

Marche nodded. "I can teach you to use two at one time. You won't have to abandon SaveTheQueen--I know what that sword means to you."

I let my gaze shift back to Excalibur. Hesitantly, I put one hand on the pommel, then let it fall into an easy grip around the hilt. Warmth flooded my body through the sword, making the soft hair at the back of my neck stand on end.

Tightening my grip, I pulled. With a slow metallic sound, the Excalibur came free.