The Ninth Chapter - Presage

Rian was a heavily fortified city that acted as the forefront of war for Lilienthal's faction. It secured supply lines and its position in the mountains made it influential over the entire province. Several thousand soldiers worked tirelessly for the past three months and had grown quite skilled at their job of guarding the new border. Well before the sun had set beyond the Strachan mountains, the commanders of Rian knew about them. After all, they were a contingent of nearly two-thousand men on chocobos riding to the front. It had been impossible to miss. Even sentries that had been asleep in their positions would have been woken by the trembling ground as the heavy cavalry, carrying their own weight in plated armor, thundered past.

Locke and Terra rode with Colonel Norris Ferdinand and his personal guard, a group of fifty men that reminded Locke of Donnach and Reinhardt. They were not typical Imperial soldiers, and their attitudes and belongings showed as much. Terra could feel no less than five Magitek Knights amongst the group. These fifty men were disciplined, battle-hardened veterans that had fought many battles against the monsters that still roamed both land and sea, brought civilization to the barbaric tribes in the fringes of the southern continent, and now fought a pretender to the Imperial throne. They had an aura about them that was frightening to behold.

Rian was not their destination. The city would be the initial target of any incursion into Lilienthal's holdings and though it was heavily fortified, it was not where central command would be. Norris spoke shortly with the garrison commander and returned with instructions to find the main force, along with the color codes of flags so that they could locate the command tents quickly.

As they set off from Rian, Locke came to an interesting realization. He had noticed it earlier, but attributed the problem due to the nature of Wilds. Farin had explained to them those areas had been hardly contested, and so it made sense that the lands had not shown the same battle scarring that the southern areas of Tzen showed. But even as they neared the front lines, the lands of Albrook were still pristine and untouched. The Vais Gumes reflected the soft moonlight, a soft yellow glow that swayed in symphony with the cold winter winds. Those grassy stalks still stood tall and proud, telling Locke that there had never been a battle here, only the movement of many a soldier through well-trodden paths.

He wondered why there was such a difference. When they had traveled with Farin, the lands were broken and charred. The scars of war had been everywhere and refugees were all about. Towns were rampaged and sacked, most deserted as the villagers left for the safer cities in the north. Yet in Albrook, the horrors of war had not affected the people that lived there.

That question was answered when they arrived at the front.

A bit after nightfall, they reached the entrenched lines that marked the edge of safe territory and the beginning of a neutral zone. Yet despite the great numbers that made up the central concentration of Lilienthal's military might, they did not see the camp until they were well within the range of archers.

Norris seemed to be oblivious to the dozens of soldiers they passed, their bows ready and arrows nocked, and spurred his chocobo nonchalantly. They followed his lead without question, fifty elite soldiers and two out-of-place civilians, as he rode down a path that curved softly towards the center of the encampment. Behind them, Locke noted that the remaining two-thousand riders had stayed at the fringes of the camp.

Men parted aside so that Norris could ride through, most dropping what they had been doing and rushing out of the way without fail. They passed dozens upon dozens on the road alone, so many that Locke quickly lost count. Thousands were working to secure their lands from the attacking hoards of the Core. They were the reason why Albrook was so well protected.

At last, they came to a halt before five figures.

"Norris you old fool," the figure in the lead growled as Norris galloped to a stop. Locke and Terra followed suit, coming to a halt just behind Norris and two other soldiers.

Norris dismounted carefully, but no one else was following. Locke gave Terra a sidelong glance and she shook her head in silent agreement. It didn't seem right for them to follow Norris.

"Moving with that kind of force without a proper scouting curtain is the apex of idiocy," the woman continued to growl. She was taller than Norris was, but in the sparse moonlight, it was difficult to make out any features. The entire camp was cloaked in darkness. They had seen hardly any fires burning, despite the chilly weather.

"I'm happy to see you too Karen," Norris pulled off his hood and took a deep breath of the crisp night air. "Your sentries were almost impossible to avoid," he said with a teasing tone.

Locke wondered what Norris meant by that.

The woman, Karen, crossed her arms. "You've brought trouble, Ferdinand," she said.

Norris turned around and directed his gaze at Terra and Locke. His wizened face was full of vigor but creased with lines as he thought deeply. "Perhaps you have a point, Alysworth, but I have also brought a great deal of help for your men," he replied with his back still turned. In a louder voice, he addressed his men. "Sanderson, Gibbons," he ordered. After waiting for the two men to snap to attention, he continued. "Take your men back to Carr," he turned around to Karen. "Who will coordinate?" he asked.

Karen gestured at one of the figures behind her. "Captain Tarrish and his aides will be in charge of that," she replied.

Norris resumed his orders, his men spurring their chocobos into action after three of the figures behind Karen had been assigned. It was not until after the soldiers had left that Norris addressed Locke and Terra. "You two should dismount and come with us. Karen?"

"My tent is this way, follow me."

---

Karen's tent was lit by nothing more than a single small candle, but it was somehow comfortably warm. Her aide departed while Norris directed Locke and Terra to take the two seats in front of Karen's desk.

Karen lit three more small candles before sitting down herself. In the light, they could see that she had shoulder-length brown hair. It was probably that length due to the months of war rather than a personal decision. Her energetic black eyes studied both Locke and Terra with an uncomfortable penetrating gaze, but beneath were ugly dark circles and wrinkles unbefitting of her age.

"Major-General Karen Alysworth," Norris gestured. Terra noted the two stars prominent on Karen's leather armor. She was an older woman, elder than Farin though still youthful in comparison to Norris. While an aura of authority radiated from the woman, it was not due to any spellform. Terra could sense no magic in her. Karen Alysworth was a born leader, one both knowledgeable and battle-hardened.

"Second only to General Lilienthal, she is our field commander and in charge of all our military operations." Norris stayed standing, his long grey hair swaying from side to side as he grinned mischievously.

Terra pulled off her wolf-fur hood, her blond-dyed hair falling out as she did so. Locke pulled off his hood as well, thankful to have it off. The thin Imperial cloaks were deceivingly warm.

Karen studied Terra and Locke, her gaze bouncing between the two. "Familiar, but not familiar enough for me to remember their faces off-hand."

"Terra Branford and Locke Cole," Norris introduced them with dramatic hand motions.

Locke was unsure whether he should speak. It was an awkward situation and he could see that Terra felt the same.

Karen's brow wrinkled. "The Esper?" she asked after some thought. "Yes of course," she answered her own question. "I've seen you before, at Emperor Gestahl's side. You had green hair back then, and you looked a bit younger. As for the Returner," Karen turned her gaze to Locke. "You caused one of my subordinates no small amount of grief with your antics in Sellenger a couple years past. It's nice to finally meet you."

Locke blinked blankly. He had done quite a bit for the Returners, but he could not seem to remember a trip to Sellenger. Even if he could remember, he did not think he was even remotely well known enough for a Major-General to take note of his name.

"Confused? Normally I would never take notice of such trivial matters, but in that case I had. We had some trouble keeping tabs on you-"

He remembered what he had done in Sellenger now! But how could someone so highly ranked in the army have known what he had done?

"-at the time, and though all signs pointed to incompetence I always suspected something else." Karen turned to the old mage. "Norris, do explain yourself. I have not been notified of such interesting guests arriving under my command."

Norris grinned. "We've been given direct orders from General Lilienthal," his hands reached inside his robes and took out a sealed brown envelope. "Your orders are here in formal writing." He slid the envelope across Karen's makeshift desk. "I took the liberty of delivering it myself. I thought it might be a good time to drop by and see how you were doing."

Karen did not reach out for the envelope though, her arms remained crossed beneath her breasts and her eyes glaring at Norris with displeasure.

Norris sighed. "Alright, I'm sorry for scanning you without your permission," he grumbled.

Locke raised an eyebrow. He felt out of place, as if he was intruding on a much more private conversation than he should be privy to. Terra seemed to feel the same way. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

Karen shrugged but it was obvious that some manner of tension had faded away. "Explain the orders," she replied.

Locke suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. Norris had placed himself between Locke and Terra. His tone and expression became serious. "We've been ordered to engage the Western enemy until relieved, or we take Maley's Point and the Grand Peaks."

As Locke shifted in his seat again, Norris finally took note of the uncomfortable situation. "You two don't have to worry. You've been cleared for everything that I'll be discussing tonight," he said.

It did not relieve either Returner, but Karen looked surprised. The expression was fleeting though, and Locke was left unsure whether it was a trick of the light. "Well, that would be two surprising developments," the senior Imperial officer offered with a calm disposition. "The first would be two civilians -- historically aiding our enemies if not taking arms up against us directly -- being privy to a discussion between two senior field officers. The next being the sudden change in our defensive plans. It is the beginning of winter, though it comes early this year, and I would advise our General against any serious engagements at this time."

Norris removed his hands from Locke and Terra's shoulders. "These two will accompany me into Caleigh's territory and take care of the so-called New Order. There are some threats that must be dealt with, and the General has ordered me to eliminate them. Your orders are rather simple, and you should be able to achieve them without much resistance. I am correct with my assumption, right?"

Karen leaned back in her chair and unfolded her arms, but she did not look anymore relaxed. "Caleigh is a man with spirit. He does not falter nor will he balk at sacrifice, especially when the roads to Vector are being contested. General Lilienthal is asking too much, the winter will be harsh and our enemy has had much time to fortify their positions."

"That's not exactly what I expected to hear from you, Karen," Norris noted. "It doesn't reflect my opinion, or the more important opinion of our General."

Major-General Karen Alysworth blinked away deep wrinkles underneath her eyes. She took a sip from a canteen on her desk before addressing Norris. "You're telling me that a political fogey and his pet black-hat have views differing from my own, and that I should bend to the will of the incompetent?"

The tension in the air thickened and Locke shifted in his seat again. Karen was staring daggers at Norris. There was such malice behind that gaze that Locke felt extremely uneasy, even though he was not the target.

"Karen," Norris growled. "That's not what I meant."

"Then next time, think before you speak. The lives of my men mean more than any of Lilienthal's wants," Karen folded her arms. "You can tell him I said that if you so desire."

"Duly noted, and had I any political ambitions I might even take you up on that offer," Norris replied off-hand. He sighed deeply. "You'll never get that third star if you keep speaking your mind like this, Karen."

"Just tell me why he wants Maley's Point," Karen ignored Norris' remarks. "The only reason why we no longer hold the Grand Peaks is because the General retreated much farther back than necessary. Attacking now would require the bulk of our forces and places us in an aggressive position that does nothing but provoke Caleigh and his armies. We can't force a decisive result, I wouldn't think we'd be even capable of putting a Tek Missile into the walls of Vector, had we any of those left," Karen pointed at a detailed map of the region between Vector and Albrook. "While Caleigh may have overextended here," her finger pointed to a pattern of red pins near the westernmost Strachan Mountains. They formed a haphazard grid that seemed to serve no purpose, but just above it was a solid wall of crimson dots. "The Brougham Line is more than capable of holding us back for months... perhaps even indefinitely," her voice lowered with the last word.

Locke watched curiously as Norris' eyes shifted from Karen to Terra, and then back again. What was going on here?

"Karen, you should know that attacking the Grand Peaks was not General Lilienthal's idea. It was a concession that we agreed to."

This time, Karen's surprised expression was clear on her face. "You leave this army for a month and you come back with a treaty?" she said incredulously. "How?"

Norris gestured at Terra. "Miss Branford here has managed to change Lilienthal's mind. I personally discussed the terms with Brigadier Starson."

Karen turned to the half-Esper. "You convinced the General to make peace with Danielle?"

Terra shrugged. "It didn't exactly happen that way," she answered slowly. Terra was unsure of how to explain the situation. It was rather incredulous that in order for an alliance to be considered, Remiel had requested an audience with her. Even that description was stretching the truth... but she could not tell the Imperial soldiers that Remiel had intended to kill her because of his contempt for magic.

"Danielle," Norris echoed the name distastefully and unwittingly saved Terra from saying too much. "Karen, what did I just say about your odds for a third star?"

Karen rolled her eyes. "Enough of the games, old man. I grow tired of them."

"Sure," Norris gave his friendliest grin. "So will I be riding back to relay your observations and advice to our General? Or will you strike Maley's Point and keep our end of the bargain, so that General Meras and her armies will ride south into the Gap of Reddenhurst?"

The Major-General sighed. She gazed over the maps again. "Even without the reserves, I can easily mobilize about fifty-thousand men," she said with a bit of thought. "That should be more than enough to advance into the Core," she grumbled. Her eyes scanned the maps of the Kavanagh Mountains pinned up against the sides her personal tent. "With General Meras taking the Gap, that would divert reinforcements from Mansfield..."

"How long will it take you?" Norris interrupted Karen's train of thought.

"Four days," Karen said crisply and without hesitation. Plans were already forming within her mind. "Five without your two-thousand chocobos. Three with the Knights of Odin."

Norris gestured extravagantly towards the entrance of the camp. "Carr and all his men are at your comma-"

"Norris," Karen interrupted. "The Tenth Division guards Maley's Point," she said quietly.

Colonel Norris Ferdinand breathed in sharply. The old soldier's eyes drifted down to the ground. Terra and Locke exchanged a look of concern; they had never seen him act like this.

"I'm sorry, but I thought you should know," Karen said with as much compassion as a pragmatic general could.

"Terry is a good man," Norris replied. "It is... unfortunate that he is so stubborn." He took a deep breath and then met Karen's gaze without emotion. "I require only ten of my finest to accompany me into Fanshaw. I will need supplies and all the information on the city and the Strachan Mountains that your scouts have collected."

Karen whistled. "Very well, Colonel. I must ask, must you go that deep into the New Order?"

Norris nodded. "We depart tomorrow. When next we meet, I'll expect it to be at Maley's Point."

Karen returned the nod. "Of course. Be careful, old man."

Colonel Norris Ferdinand saluted, his fist audibly thumping against his chest. He left without another word.

---

They followed Norris around the camp, the old mage leading them as though he had the map of the area burned into his head. While they followed, Locke walked beside him. His curiosity had won over his sense of caution. "Norris," he started. "Mind if I ask something?"

"Go ahead," Norris said as he looked up at one of the tents. It was flying a triangular red flag.

"I was just wondering why you included us in that conversation. We weren't really required there, and didn't we hear far more than we should?" Locke asked.

Norris kept looking at the flags flying on top of the tents. "I shouldn't have said no for an aide," he grumbled under his breath. Turning to Locke, he perked up and gave him a slap on the back. "Stop worrying so much," he said. "The information will do you no good even if you get it to Caleigh himself, he's completely outmatched. The New Order has little chance against General Alysworth and her strategic genius. Her tactical abilities also outstrip anything that Caleigh has in his ranks. Even if you betray us, you'll them offer nothing."

Locke frowned. "I didn't mean it like that," he asserted.

Norris seemed to find what he was looking for and started towards his new target. Locke followed, Terra behind him looking around the army camp with interest.

"I meant it just seemed weird to listen to you give orders and have no idea what you were talking about," Locke said. He left unsaid how strange Norris and Karen acted together and skirted away from Norris' friend on the other side of the war.

Norris shrugged. "What, you've never heard of the Knights of Odin?"

Locke shook his head. "No, nor this New Order. What is it?"

Norris stopped in his tracks, surprising Locke. The old man spun around on one foot, stamping the other down when he faced Locke. "That's strange. You don't know what the New Order is? What about you Terra?"

Terra glanced up, caught by surprise. She had not been following the conversation and gave Norris a blank look.

"I guess not," Norris answered his own question. "Well, the New Order is the abomination that Anson Tilton has set up in the capital and the Core. He claimed that he was the Emperor or something and expected us to follow Hector Caleigh's steps, as if we were all as gullible as that man. Tilton has attempted to reform the laws of the land and has passed ludicrous decrees, such as the banning of a soldier's right to lay claim to his enemy's belongings, and even tried to abolish the noble houses," Norris said. He spread his hands out. "The man's stupidity is great, as the noble houses are both wealthy and influential. Without their support, basic needs like grain began to run short in the Core," Norris shook his head sadly. "Tilton has to be removed from power as soon as possible, and with him, the foolish New Order he has built."

Locke had never heard anything like this. Danielle had told them quite a bit about the events in the Core, but she had not even mentioned the New Order. He vaguely recalled the name of Anson Tilton though, and Hector Caleigh's name seemed familiar as well.

"I'm surprised that you would help General Meras yet be in the dark as to what has happened in the recent weeks," Norris said. "There's no reason for you to not know the terrifying rule that Tilton has submerged the Core into."

Locke noticed the look on Terra's face. She was surprised that Norris did not know Danielle was threatening them into cooperating, using Relm's life as a bargaining chip in her ploys. Locke was not surprised though. He had remembered the Remiel did not know about their deal with Danielle. If Norris' superior did not know, Norris would not either.

"You never mentioned it," Locke pointed out. "Neither did Remiel."

Norris laughed. "It's rare for stubborn men like us to give Tilton enough respect to actually address his rule as the New Order," he stated. "Certainly Lilienthal does not recognize Tilton's authority any further than as an insurgent within the capital. As for myself, I follow the General..." Norris trailed off. "You will understand soon enough when we journey through the southern sections of the Core. The trip to Fanshaw will not be easy and you will see much that results from Tilton's rule. It shall be quite treacherous when we enter the more populated regions, being very few against many thousands. You two will do exactly as I say, or else we will all be dead."

"What is Fanshaw?" Terra asked, interested now that Norris was speaking of their future.

"Fanshaw is a major city south of the Capital. Unlike the other major cities, we can reach it through the Strachan Mountains and so we bypass the great defensive line that Caleigh has set against our forces."

"What would we be doing there?" Locke asked.

Norris grinned. "I will tell you when the time is right. There is no need for you to worry needlessly so soon."

"That doesn't sound promising," Locke grumbled.

"We will be probably helping a rebellion, getting supplies to people in need there," Terra whispered to Locke.

Locke gave her a questioning glance. "How do you know that?" he whispered back.

"You two can stop your childish buzzing behind my back," Norris grinned and pointed triumphantly. There was the glow of firelight coming from the direction he gestured; it was their campsite. "Tomorrow will be an early start. If we sit here and chat about all that you don't know, then the war will be over and you'll still be talking. Let's go get some sleep."

---

Sabin took a deep breath of the night air. It had been three days since they left Halstead, crossing the desert north of the Callaghan Plains and within about two days of Pierpoint. Luck was on their side. The Magitek squadrons at Halstead never did give chase. Either they never recognized Heller's departure -- in which case the medallion was worth its weight in gold -- or Siana's sabotage had worked perfectly as planned. Either way, they had escaped without any trouble and were now happily at the edge of the Province of Maranda.

Maranda, a victim of Imperial expansionistic tendencies two years past. It was the latest province to be added to the Empire. The northern tip of the land seemed unaffected by the change of leadership though, serene and untouched by the ravages of war.

Sabin stood on atop a hill in the midst of a field of green stalks and white flowers, mountains in the distance basked in the warm glow of the setting sun. It brought a pang of nostalgia to his heart, his gaze drifting north where his home was. He had not seen Figaro for far too long, or the Kolt Mountains he had called home for the last decade. With the Emperor dead and the Imperials busy killing each other, he wondered why he was halfway around the world in a land he held no love for.

His ear twitched as Siana made her way up the grassy slope. Her red hair was pulled back and glistened with moisture; it was freshly washed in the nearby stream. She was wearing clean clothing as well, picked up in Halstead and more suited for the colder weather. Sabin was reminded that he had not bathed since leaving Bill's.

The two measured each other with cold eyes, Returner and Imperial clashing yet again. In the past days, Sabin had not even attempted to make small talk with the ex-pilot and Siana had gotten the hint. She reflected his indifference and then some.

"Heller and I finished setting up camp," Siana said with an air of professionalism. "I take it that you have finished scouting the area?"

Heartless and callous, the woman might be, but she recognized skill regardless of personal opinion. Siana had deferred to his advice on more than one occasion when choosing campsites. At least she had one redeeming quality. Sabin had always felt himself more attuned to the wilds than others and a decade spent under the tutelage of Duncan -- his martial arts master -- in the Kolt Mountains had made him an expert ranger.

"Fresh water and some blueberries, a late-season blossom but still fresh. We're rather well hidden and there almost no chance anyone from the road will see us as long as we don't make a fire. It'll do for the night," Sabin concluded with an equally professional tone.

Siana swiftly nodded and started back down the hill.

"Wait," Sabin held up a hand. The red-haired Imperial turned back towards him, her face failing to hide her displeasure. He had broken their unspoken agreement not to speak with each other unless it was absolutely necessary.

"What is it?"

"I was wondering if you had finished reading through the briefs on this province."

That caught her off-guard. "How did you know about that?" Siana asked with surprise all over her face.

Sabin straightened. "Even if I didn't notice the way you held back detail about your trip to sabotage Magitek Armor, I saw the papers lying in your pack. You can fool me once with your ease of lifting Imperial documentation, but not twice."

Siana frowned. "Well I didn't think you would be interested in the material," she defended.

"I've never been to Maranda, or lived under the yoke of the Empire," Sabin sat down in the grasses. "While depending on each other's expertise has worked so far, I would like to know more about the place we're about to call home for the winter months."

"What's there to know about? It's a province of the Empire and military presence in Pierpoint is non-existent. The reports confirmed what I told you: that this area of the continent is a perfect place to hide until Godric gives up," Siana answered confidently.

"No troops at all? Not even conscripts?" Sabin pursed his lips together. He remembered clearly that there had been Imperial soldiers from Maranda under General Leo's command. There was also the injured fellow in Mobliz, the one he and Cyan had tried to help.

"The Imperial Army never conscripted anyone," Siana snapped quickly.

"I saw soldiers from Maranda participate in the Doma War," Sabin pointed out in a calm tone. He wanted to avoid an intense argument if it was possible.

"They joined willingly, just like anyone else in the army. There's no more difference between a soldier from Maranda and a pilot from Albrook," Siana pointed at herself.

"I find that rather hard to believe, considering how the Empire just conquered the Kingdom," Sabin grumbled.

"Maybe if you were a little less ignorant, you would know how the people there have turned around in the years that have passed. A popular Governor rules there now, he's rebuilt Maranda and Sutton with money out of his own pocket. Now the province has two of the most beautiful cities in the world."

"Out of his own pocket?" Sabin echoed, not at all convinced of the alleged benign dictator that the Emperor had propped up.

"That's not all he did. He had most of his officers in the army stay in the province. They built new roads and railroad tracks, giant farms, businesses, factories... everything. Trade flourished and put many of the Marandans to work. We brought civilization to a backwater Kingdom. Everyone's better off now," Siana proudly explained the work of her peers.

"I suppose he even boasts that he made the trains run on time?" Sabin quipped.

Siana rolled her eyes. "At least we have trains, unlike some desert... places."

Sabin bit off a nasty retort, instead choosing to keep quiet his distaste for the Empire. His patience for the Imperial exhausted for the evening, he made a waving motion. "Forget it, as long as there are no soldiers near Pierpoint, that's all I care about." He shook his head, wondering how he could tolerate the woman for the entire winter.

"Fewer than I expected," Siana responded. "We should be fine as long as you don't attract attention."

We would be fine as long as you don't murder anyone else, Sabin thought darkly. "Thanks," he said with a forced smile.

Siana turned her back and left without a response.

They would definitely need separate cabins.

---

Four cloaked men walked into the town. No one paid attention to them, despite the fact that one was limping along with most of his weight being supported by his friend. After all, though the Empire had restored order, such injuries were still quite a common sight. Many a refugee had come from the south with similar hurts. Some had gone even farther into the north in order to get away from the chaos that gripped the Core.

Edgar had talked to a couple travelers on the road. He had not been able to ask too much or else he would seem out of place. However, he had heard whispers of war between the Empire's generals, infighting amidst different factions, and the monsters that rampaged unchecked. As well, apparently there were great shortages of supplies in the Core. Hundreds of thousands were starving and the cause was, if Edgar took all that he heard at face value, due to the pestilence of magic.

The venom and hatred of magic scared Edgar. Every refugee cursed the ancient power and found it responsible for nearly all the wrongs in the world. Edgar didn't blame them for their reaction. The Floating Continent had unleashed so much death and destruction during its fall that anyone who thought otherwise must have been insane. Still, Edgar had wished that the citizens of the Empire would blame the men responsible for the revival of magic: Gestahl, Kefka, and the rest of the Empire's top generals. If the people of the Empire blamed their leaders, reform was possible. Instead, the hatred had been focused on something else and those in power continued to go unpunished.

Edgar had plenty of time for introspection while he had waited in Nestil. He had come to the depressing conclusion that the civil war was, in a sense, caused by their actions. The Empire's citizens being subjugated in such a fashion was partially their fault. Killing Gestahl and Kefka on the Floating Continent had not been without consequence. They had been so intent on stopping Gestahl and his attempts to resurrect archaic magic that they did not plan for the aftermath. They did not analyze what a headless Empire would do, how its generals would react and whether the government could maintain peace and order. The Empire was twice as large as the entire Northern Continent; its last census had placed their population beyond fifty-million men, women and children. To think the Returners could simply destroy the Imperial government and return the world to peace had been stupidity idealized.

They had made the same mistake when they asked Terra to speak to the Espers beyond the Sealed Gate. They had not given thought to what the Espers would do. Creatures of magic that had numerous friends subjected to years of torture and eventual death, and the Returners had thought the Espers would help fight the Empire to a long-lasting peace. Pure, untainted stupidity.

The Espers had charged out of their realm and attacked Vector in a horrifying display of vengeance, leading to fifty-thousand innocent lives dead and hundreds of thousands suffering because of their actions. Indiscriminate death visited by powers unimaginable, and Edgar had not even seen it coming. His father would have been shamed at his lack of foresight.

Edgar's mind kept wandering to the sight of a young child, perhaps five years of age, resting by the river with her parents. She had the courage to ask them where they were going. The innocence in her brown eyes had been overwhelming.

"We're headed south," Edgar had replied with a forced smile. "Our friend is hurt really badly and we need to find him a good doctor. They can save him in the south."

Without pause, the little girl had instantly responded. "You shouldn't go that way, it's cold and there's nothing to eat." Her eyes then lit up. "You can come with me! Mommy is going to take us to Auntie's place and we'll be safe there. You can come too! No more darkness, no more monsters, and no more magic!"

A child of the Empire's Core had told him that. It had shaken him to the very depths to hear such words.

That was the least of their worries though.

Cartha was a small town, bigger than Nestil but certainly no metropolis, which bordered the forests surrounding the Tzen mountain range. In order to cross into the city limits, it was necessary to walk across many bridges as much of the city was built on top of a river.

Imperial soldiers were everywhere in Cartha. The garrison was nearly thrice the size of the one in Nestil. It was fortunate that the times were so chaotic, or else they would have been caught quite quickly. Their faces were hidden within hooded shadows so that they did not attract attention, but it was still highly suspicious and Edgar wondered how they would enter the capital of Tzen. Cartha and Nestil were small, hardly worth mentioning when one spoke of the Empire. However, Tzen was the capital of a province and one of the largest cities within the Empire. It would be heavily defended and in times of civil war, soldiers were probably even more alert than ever. After all, anyone could have been an enemy. They could be spying or planning sabotage. Even those within the ranks must have been eying one another, wondering where the loyalties of their friends laid.

The inn Garrett had suggested was exactly as Edgar wanted. It was low-class, without a bar, and the innkeeper asked no questions. They got their rooms without any strange looks and laid Setzer to rest as soon as they could.

Setzer had woken only two days ago, but they did not want to stay in Nestil any longer than necessary. Kenneth pronounced that Setzer was healthy, but his body had been weakened from the ordeal and would take many days to recover. Still, he had managed to walk with a limp and Cyan had helped Setzer make the journey.

Edgar eyed Strago. The old man had his eyes closed and his arms crossed, resting in chair deformed from years of abuse. The lore-master's worry could be seen in the creases on his face. Edgar knew that Strago wanted nothing more than to continue their journey to Tzen, but not with Setzer's current condition.

Two days, he promised. Two days before the gambler would be rested and moving by himself.

Edgar hoped Strago would not do anything foolish in those two days. A smile touched his face when he thought that. It was not an image of Strago, but rather of his brother. Foolishness was his business, such as the time he had jumped into the rapids in order to chase their enemy.

"I hope Sabin is having an easier time than we are," he said to himself.

---

Sabin's eyes snapped open. His focused mediation was broken when he felt the chocobo carriage grind to a sudden halt. He could hear Heller outside talking with someone. He took a peek through the curtains of their carriage and looked for the cause of the disturbance.

"What is it?" Siana asked. She had already looked out her side of the window but saw nothing.

"Men, and women... they look like beggars," Sabin remarked in confusion. Sabin took a quick sip of water from his canteen, deciding what to do about the strange crowd. "I'll go out."

Siana had already opened her door and strolled out into the frigid air.

Winter was upon them and the fields north of the Plains of Incledon were rocky and dry. They were to reach Pierpoint that day. The interruption and their proximity to civilization must have been related.

Sabin stepped outside and saw the roadblock finally. His eyes opened wide in shock. It was comprised of people, five shriveled women whose skin hung from the bones had strung themselves across the narrow road. Three men and another woman, equally thin, had swarmed the carriage as soon as it had stopped. They were chattering continuously but Sabin couldn't make out any sentences.

Even though they had escaped their pursuers and were safe in such a desolate region, Sabin felt goosebumps rise. He did not feel this type of anxiety when they were running from Godric. Something was desperately wrong here. The men and women were clothed in rags... no, the rags simply hung from their boney bodies. Several were missing arms and legs. Their eyes were wide and filled with fear, their hair a mess and the constant senseless blather that came from their mouths told Sabin more than anything they could have said.

These people had been tortured. Not just tortured, but also subjected to horrifying violence for probably months now.

"Please, we have nothing to give you," Heller growled as one of the men had climbed onto the carriage. The man was missing an eye, all his teeth, and crawled and scratched at Heller's driving seat. "And say something normal! I don't speak crazy."

Sabin let one of the other men grab his arm. He had both eyes at least, but the right ear was missing and there were stitches all throughout his chest. Rashes were present all over his skin, ugly red blotches that turned the stomach.

"Coming, coming," the man rasped. "God, darkness, faith and fallen. Cometh Empire... one way, one way."

Sabin softly pulled away the insane man's hand.

"By the Emperor, what has happened to these people?" Siana whispered. She had drawn a knife, but her eyes were wide at the sight of the women on the road. They were mutilated worse than the men were and Sabin felt bile rising in his throat. He knew what this was.

"The Empire," Sabin said. "These people have been tortured or... worse," he trailed off, unable to take his eyes off one of the girls at the lead of the roadblock. Half her face had been scarred, her right eye gone and her mouth twisted towards her broken nose. She was looking at him, trying to say something but she had no tongue. "Disgusting," he whispered. Revulsion at what the Empire renewed, he spun to Heller. "We need to get these people some help," Sabin said.

"No one... human would do this," Siana knelt down and tried to help one of the girls up. "It has to be monsters," she whispered.

"Wishful thinking," Sabin growled. "Even monsters treat their victims better."

"Then mercenaries, or those drug-addicted scum," Siana explained as she stood up. Her eyes were filled with sadness, tears of empathy only moments away. "They did this."

"Don't be a fool. Only Imperial soldiers-"

"The Empire did not do this!" Siana shouted. She spun around and glared at him with more wrath than Sabin thought her capable of. She finally had enough of his talk, his preaching on the horrors of the Empire. She hated how he spoke about her peers and his words sounded very much like he was blaming her for what had happened to these people.

She slapped him across the face without realizing it. It surprised her, but she didn't feel sorry for it. In fact, it felt good. "Soldiers do not do this!" she screamed. "We protect people, fight monsters, bring law and order! We don't mutilate them, cut out their eyes, tear their breasts off and toss them into the wild you fucking idiot!"

'We'. Sabin suddenly found the sight of Siana revolting. Her hair was the color of spilt blood, and the anger on her face the same rage as those soldiers that had senselessly slaughtered so many of Doma.

Sabin took a deep breath. He tried to calm himself as Duncan had taught him.

But surrounded by these men and women, so brutally tortured into twisted aberrations of the human form, Sabin couldn't keep the hatred within. The violence of the war in Doma returned to his memories, how he and Shadow had stumbled on village after village of the dead. He remembered the stories Cyan had recounted of the horrors of the Imperial Army.

His hands shook from anger. This deluded, immoral Imperial killer had the audacity to lecture him?

"Listen here you murdering bitch," Sabin growled. He caught her hand again before she slapped him from the insult.

They had so been intent on each other that neither noticed where the carriage had stopped. They did not notice how it had coincidentally halted at the base of two hills that blocked their view both east and west. They missed the rocky ridge that was right behind Sabin, positioned such that someone could sneak up behind him without Siana seeing.

"Don't you touch me!" Siana tried to pull away from his powerful grip.

"Shut up you-" Sabin cut himself off as he heard it. His anger had blinded him until now, when the rustling of the grasses, the soft squawks of the chocobos, the gentle breeze whistling by... all these elements told him that someone was inexplicably behind him.

Even before he turned around, he knew the man was there. Sabin's hand caught his assailant's outstretched arm by the cuff, an iron mace dangerously close to Sabin's face.

"Who are you?" Sabin asked. His anger had turned from Siana to this new threat.

His assailant was wearing green and brown speckled clothing; it was camouflage of some sort. Unfortunately, their surroundings were rocky and he stood out like a beacon of light. The man was heavily armed, knives strapped to his chest, an axe on his back and two swords at his sides.

Some manner of mercenary? A skillful one, if he could handle all those weapons, Sabin thought.

The man growled and broke Sabin's grip. He went for his sword.

Sabin's fist connected with the man's face, breaking the nose and splitting the lips with a spray of blood. His assailant landed on the ground, but not before Sabin sent another blow into his chest and knocked him unconscious.

It was then that Sabin realized the man made no sounds when he moved, not even when he fell to the ground.

Magic.

"Sabin!" Siana warned him.

Sabin turned away from the fallen attacker and noted another man, similarly dressed, lying at Siana's feet with his throat slit. That had not been what Siana was referring to.

They surrounded them with arrows nocked, swords and shields ready, spears leveled at them. Twenty-two men by his count, each looking as dangerous as the one Sabin just dealt with. Two rings of men had surrounded them and made it impossible for them to escape without a great deal of bloodshed. Each man was moving without noise, though they trampled the grasses and kicked aside pebbles with their amateur motions. These men were either unused to the spell that affected them, or rarely encountered someone of Sabin's skill.

"Take them alive, I'm impressed with these savages. They might be worth more than rodents."

Their commander was in the back, too far away to strike. Sabin had already judged every man that was near him, and the commander was the least of his worries. The first ring of warriors was dangerous enough to kill him. He cracked the knuckles of his clenched fists. Master Duncan, how would you handle such odds?

His late master did not answer. Instead, steel charged forth at Sabin.

"Siana, get to the carriage!" Sabin shouted as he spun. His arms and legs were his weapons and unlike the slow sloth-like movements of pole-arms, he was blazing fast. The men that came close had either their weapons broken, or their faces bloodied. Swords were a problem, but Sabin dodged and slipped around their blades with grace. He did not waste any breath, any movement, and struck only when necessary.

The archers did nothing because they were afraid of hitting their own. The pikemen and swordsmen could only approach Sabin two or three at a time, lest they get in one another's way. Though they outnumbered him, they still fell one by one. Unfortunately, Sabin did not have the time to ensure they stayed down when they fell. When he struck one, another would take his place. But the ring of men grew thinner and thinner as Sabin fought his way through the trap he had walked into.

As Sabin nailed another man in the side with a quick jab, there came a loud piercing command.

"Stop!"

Sabin did not listen, but the warriors around him certainly did. Two more fell to the ground before they were out of Sabin's reach and their shields in defensive positions. He had knocked out at least six of them, eight when he added the latest two, and hurt many of the others in the first ring. There were still too many though, and they were holding back for some reason.

Sabin spared a glance behind him. Siana had her back to the carriage, her knives out but she knew better than to get involved. Two of the mutilated men had crouched near the carriage, but the rest were still on the road. None had tried to run. In fact, they were all on the ground. Their arms were wrapped around their legs, head against the chest and they rocked back and forth like babies. Sabin looked up and saw that Heller was slouched over in the driver seat, an arrow embedded in his back. He swore angrily.

The commander was a man dressed in grey. He had a sash made of white silk upon his left hip and a fine mustache graced his face. He walked through the ring of men, coming to a stop about ten meters away from Sabin. "You are an interesting man, skilled and perceptive. The Guild shall grow strong with your assistance," the man said.

He had no weapons. Sabin carefully stowed away reference to this Guild and instead concentrated on this strange overconfident man. He wondered what the chances were that he could use their commander as a hostage. Probably very good, all the camouflaged men had obeyed their commander's orders without question.

The man in grey nodded at Sabin. "What is your name, savage?"

Sabin spared a quick glance behind him. Siana was eyeing their Heller's chocobo team. Good, Sabin thought. If she could cut loose the chocobos, they could escape this ambush.

"I will not be ignored, savage," the man in grey strolled up through the rings of men. "I offer you a chance at Enlightenment; to join the Guild and serve the ranks as loyal Peers of the Patrician. It is a great honor, one that is not extended to just any savage."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sabin replied. He hoped to give Siana the time she needed.

"That is natural," the man in grey replied with a knowing look. "The pain you suffer daily must be unbearable, but do not fear. After the Enlightenment, you will find penance," he spread his arms around and looked at the men around him. "Is it not true, my loyal subjects?"

"Yes Peer Cardwell," the soldiers all replied as one.

The man in grey, Cardwell, turned to Sabin. "You will accompany us to-"

Sabin's hand flashed out. He had seen his opportunity to strike and without any further deliberation, he took the chance. A bolt of white energy appeared from Sabin's hand. His mind was clear as Duncan as taught him, his feelings calm and collected.

The Aurabolt shot through Caldwell and the two men in front of him, then into the warriors behind. The blast of white energy ripped the men apart, their screams barely heard before their bodies disappeared in the blazing heat of focused spirit energy.

Without thinking, Sabin charged forward before anyone else moved. His fists downed the two closest men with a pummel of blows. He turned around to check on Siana.

Yet Caldwell was somehow in front of him, screaming as his eyes blazed in a heat of anger. "Impressive, savage!" he shouted as a fireball shot from his outstretched arms.

Sabin dived aside, surprised by the Magitek Knight's fury. He rolled to a crouch but before he could face Caldwell, a sudden blow knocked the air out of him. A second blow came, his feet leaving the ground as he flew backwards through the sky. He landed face-first. The cold rocky ground was unkind to his landing, but he ignored the pain and quickly got to his feet.

His head exploded in pain as yet another invisible blow came. Sabin realized, too late, that Caldwell was somehow using fists of air to attack him. He could catch glimpses of the air pockets, thickened to the point that they distorted the images behind them, before they rained upon him. His attempts at blocking did nothing though, the occasional blow was luckily blocked but they were too fast, too many for him to defend.

When the blows at last stopped, Sabin realized he was on his knees and blood was dripping off his face. His throat was filled with some sort of warm liquid and breathing was a struggle. He looked up to see the black mustache above his face, a grin on Caldwell's face, while in his hand was a familiar iron mace.

"The Patrician will enjoy speaking with you."

The mace came down, greeting him with agony and torment before the darkness took him.

---

Edgar woke with a shock, sweat dripping down his face as he suppressed the urge to scream loudly. He struggled to catch his breath, wondering what had suddenly scared him so.

He was unsure of whether it was a nightmare. There was nothing memorable, no images, no sights nor sounds, but just the feeling of imminent danger.

The young king wiped his face upon his bed-sheets and breathed out slowly. He was calmer, but the chills were still fresh within his mind. He turned his head to the window and was surprised. Light was streaming through the blinds already. He assumed it was nearing noon by the brightness.

He had not slept for such a long time in years.

Edgar dressed quickly and walked out into the hallway. Cyan was waiting for him there, sitting in a chair calmly and reading some novel that he had picked up in the market. He had been quite insistent on heading to the market the day they entered Cartha, despite their need to stay hidden. When he returned, they found out that he had bought something to read and occupy his mind as to keep his thoughts from wandering.

"Strago is within Setzer's room," Cyan answered Edgar's unspoken question. An undertone of anger was present, impossible to tell had Edgar not known Cyan as well as he did. "Thou wish to learn of Setzer's condition, I presume."

Edgar nodded.

"He is well, but thou shalt not be pleased."

Edgar raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"Thou shalt see."

---

"No."

Edgar could feel his anger rising to uncontrollable levels. He took a deep breath and once again tried to assess the situation with a clear mind. It would be the third time he tried in the past quarter-hour.

Setzer Gabbiani stared outside with unblinking eyes. He had a faraway look on his face, his once strong features were ragged and hazard from weeks of starvation and then fighting the poison within his body. He was thinner than before and had lost much weight. Unlike Strago, Setzer had not spelled himself in order to survive the brutal crash. He had lived because of luck -- he had not been thrown clear of the airship crash despite being on deck -- and the strength of his spirit and body.

The gambler had seemed to have lost all that now. His luck had ended, his body was weak. Nevertheless, one thing remained: his spirit beamed with almost palpable excitement.

"Setzer, I understand your reluctance, considering your current state. But to abandon our friends is unthinkable," Edgar tried to reason with the man.

Strago had left the inn in a storm of anger, his rage barely contained as he threatened to tear Setzer's limbs asunder before Cyan had physically broken the two apart. Now Cyan was outside looking for Strago while Edgar was trying to control his own anger and temper his words with reason.

Setzer turned back to Edgar. His gaunt face was offset by the vibrant smile on his face. "Edgar," he said slowly... almost savoring the taste of the word. "It's not that I am reluctant. Being broken within an inch of your life gives you quite a bit of time to think. I have already explained my reasoning to Cyan and Strago."

"Then explain it to me," Edgar snapped. He was irritated at the man's refusal despite all that they had done for him. They had stayed behind and ensured his health, yet when they told him of their plan to enter Tzen, the man balked like a coward.

Setzer took a deep breath. He spread his thin arms and looked up at the roof. "The Emperor is dead," he declared.

"What does that have to do with anything?" The smile on Setzer's face was beyond aggravating. Edgar had long since run out of patience and only years of habit kept him composed.

Long grey hair fell across the gambler's face when he regarded Edgar again. The black undress coat that had been Setzer's hallmark of captaincy had long since been lost -- destroyed during the airship crash months back -- but he had found a puffy white tunic somewhere. Setzer gestured towards the window. "It means we're free," he said simply.

"Free?" Edgar echoed.

"Freedom," Setzer strolled over to the window and opened it, letting in a breeze of fresh but cold air.

"We accomplished a great deal by defeating the Empire," Edgar said with folded arms. "Not another soul will feel the Imperial heel crush their dreams, but there is still much to be done... and even if you don't agree with what we're trying to accomplish, certainly you would stand with us to save Terra and Relm!" His passionate appeal was heard, but not the way Edgar had intended.

"Dreams," Setzer whispered outside. He turned his head slightly and let the wind blow softly against his face. "Do you know how long I've waited for this day? To know in my heart that the Emperor is finally dead?"

Edgar frowned.

"It's a gambler's world now," Setzer continued. "A peaceful place filled with wondrous possibilities. No more is the threat of being restricted from chasing what you really want." His smile grew brighter when yet another cool breeze swept into the room. His eyes looked up into the sky. "I'm going follow my desires at last."

"You selfish little prick," Edgar growled. Any civility he claimed to have was lost.

"Not at all," Setzer responded calmly without turning his gaze from the clear azure skies. "You don't need me to save Relm. The three of you will do fine, your skills better suited for the task at hand. I would be just another body."

"You're a coward. We save your life and you won't even save a little girl's," Edgar scowled. "I almost regret pulling you from the burning hulk of your airship."

The topic of his vessel touched a nerve, as Setzer spun back around. "How dare you! The Blackjack was everything to me," he shouted. "I gave you the most important thing that I have, a memento of something you could never claim to have felt." A scrawny finger pointed at Edgar. "No matter how high and mighty you feel from the watching over my comatose body, I don't owe you anything!"

"No, not to me," Edgar's hand pounded against his own chest. "To the people you call friends, Setzer! You owe it to them, and you owe it to that little girl that protected your precious airship while flying around the Floating Continent. How could you live with yourself if you left her to die by the hand of the Empire?"

Setzer looked up. His eyes glared at Edgar as his lips curled into a scowl. "You left Celes to die as well, you hypocritical bastard!"

Edgar took a step back.

Before his coma and the poison, Setzer had been a man of great stature. Though the toxins had sapped his strength, he still bore the same frightening aura of an airship captain. That was rare enough, as only the Empire could field such advanced technological machinations. Even their Air Force had not made it public knowledge that they had airships. Sky armors were often seen in the Empire's cities, but actual vessels were thought to have been nothing more than dreams.

But on top of his rare command, Setzer actually owned his own airship. Somehow, he had both the intelligence and the influence to achieve what was still thought to be impossible. The Blackjack was well known throughout the world. It was a traveling casino that many wished to gamble aboard, not for the gaming, but for the prestige. Setzer Gabbiani was like a folk tale. Stories of his airship would travel from town to town and delight the ears of young children. People paid great entrance fees just to step aboard his vessel. Few had ever achieved that prestige though.

They had been lucky to catch Setzer trying to steal the heart of Maria, the star of the Jidoorian Opera House. Even luckier to have fate on their side, as Celes remarkably resembled Maria. They had laid a trap for the gambler and secured his loyalty for a short while. Then his eyes had been set on Celes and she played his gambling habit with a one-sided coin.

That had somehow been enough to maintain the charismatic man's loyalty. But Edgar had never trusted Setzer, and neither did Cyan. Yet after the captain saved them despite putting himself in mortal danger, it could hardly be argued that he wished them harm. Not even the threat of the Empire had given Setzer pause. The commanding airship captain had sided with them and none would tell him otherwise.

"We didn't let her die," Edgar defended himself. "She nearly killed Cyan in order to chase Kefka on her own! If we went after her, then everyone on the island would have died!"

Setzer's glare only intensified. "You left her to die, King Edgar, so that you could selfishly live!"

Edgar felt his face burn at his own words being turned back. "How dare you suggest that I am responsible for her death. I did everything I cou-"

"No you haven't!" Setzer interrupted with a shout. "You have done nothing! You have barely given a single bit of thought to Celes, instead focusing on your own problems. Why haven't you tried to go back to the Floating Continent? Why haven't you tried to save her if she's trapped?"

Edgar opened his mouth, but no words came out. He could explain the timing, the near-constant danger and the responsibilities that kept piling up. Yet at the end of the day, he knew that Setzer had a point. Celes was low-priority in his mind. She had been a good friend and trusted ally, but it was difficult to rationalize searching for her when Relm was in danger.

"I see you're speechless," Setzer growled. "I'll have you know that while you might have left her to die, I do not intend to. I'll find Celes and bring her back."

"We need you to find Relm," Edgar was at such a loss that he could do little more than repeat himself.

"The three of you will suffice. I'm going to do what I want to do, King Edgar," there was a great deal of contempt in his voice. "I'm not one of the peasants that you command around. I'm a free man. I suppose someone of your standing just doesn't understand that."

Edgar was ready to retort almost immediately, but an old memory made him pause. It was a long time ago, he could remember little more than the heat of the sun and the solemn air. His own words echoed through the sands of time. "What'll happen to this realm if we both leave? And what would Dad say?"

"So understand that I intend to save Celes. I think it's a compelling compromise," Setzer finished his reasoning. "Once she's safe, we'll come back and help fight the good fight. I promise you that." He held out his gaunt hand, waiting for Edgar's reaction.

It was more than reasonable, but for some reason Edgar couldn't fight the anger in his heart. He could see little more than Relm's eyes closed, lying on her side with an Imperial sword stuck through her. He could see her lifeblood flowing out of the fatal wound, her little hands bunched up into fists in a futile attempt at resistance. Her mouth was motionless, but he could hear the words formed from her last breath. She whispered for them to stop. She whispered for help. She whispered for protection.

She whispered for him.

Edgar looked up at the gambler, the thoughtless man who presumed to lecture him. A vagrant whose life was without any semblance of responsibility. Edgar's vision shook with rage. Words escaped him. Gestures were inadequate. His fist broke through the windowpanes in a single swift blow.

King Edgar Roni Figaro stormed away from Setzer.

---

Cyan was outside their door, leaning against the wall with his arms folded. His expression was dark and his lips motionless. He had heard everything, and the look in his eyes showed only the surface of the rage beneath. Edgar did not bother exchanging words with the old Knight and stormed outside.

Strago had been waiting for them in the streets of Cartha. He sat on the side of the road and watched blankly as chocobo-drawn carts passed by. Men and women passed by without a glance at the old man who stared despondently into nothingness. When he realized Cyan and Edgar had arrived, he saw the looks on their faces: a mixture of hatred and sadness. The wise old man instantly understood that the coward had won.

They left Cartha in a dark mood. The Empire did not stop them at the bridges; a fortunate coincidence for those soldiers that had been on duty. It was unknown how many the three men would cut down in their disillusioned state, but it was doubtful that the Cartha garrison had anywhere near those numbers ready for battle.

Behind them, a frail, wizened shadow of a man watched them leave the city.

"I swear the next time we meet, we will call each other friend without reserve," he whispered sadly.

---

Norris motioned for Clarkson. The soldier hurried to catch up to their leading officer and exchanged hushed words.

Their journey into the Strachan Mountains had been uneventful and calm. Still, Locke didn't like being back in the highlands. The memories of the Tzen Mountains were still fresh in his mind, but he had to admit it was vastly different this time. Norris knew where they were headed and they were surrounded by highly skilled men of the Empire. Locke recognized Clarkson and Sherwood, they had met in Albrook. Both had singly escorted Terra around the city. Given the fact that they had been chosen for this mission with Norris, no doubt they were highly capable and had been more than enough to keep Terra safe.

The sun was high in the sky. Though it provided little warmth, it did provide light. Light was something they had very little of during their struggle after the airship crash. Locke was thankful for every bit of sunshine and whispered a prayer that it would never be as dark as their trip through the Tzen Mountains.

Winter was fast approaching. Small flakes of snow had fallen, but they had melted on the ground. Still, it was getting cold and they were wrapped in much thicker clothes provided at the camp Karen commanded. Their grey cloaks had also been whitewashed to blend in with the coming snowfall. Terra was lucky to have a wolf skin mantle that was perfectly suited for the journey they would undertake. Her scarf had been replaced by a more fitting white one lifted from Imperial supplies.

They still did not know much about their secret mission. In fact, Norris kept them in the dark of what they had planned once they reached the city of Fanshaw.

Locke gave Norris a questioning glance, wondering what Norris had said to Clarkson.

Norris shrugged, obviously not planning to tell Locke of the orders he gave. The men that Norris had brought with him were extremely loyal to the old man. They seemed to be good friends despite the rank difference and even attempted to befriend Locke and Terra. Most of the soldiers that they had met, with the exception of Farin and his two men, had been quite unfriendly towards the two Returners. It must have been Norris' naturally outgoing disposition; it was infectious.

"How much longer through these mountains?" Locke asked. It had been their fourth day of travel, and Locke was wondering when they would actually enter the Core of the Empire.

Norris shrugged again. "A couple days," he said. "It depends on how the storms treat us. The clouds are moving quicker than they normally do. They will not break upon the peaks of Strachan and instead will become great storms deep into the mountain range. We might get trapped for some days," he replied.

"That doesn't sound good if we're on a tight schedule. There is a war going on, after all," Locke pointed out.

"We have no choice but to bear the burden," Norris stated. "The faster the route we take, the greater the chance that all of us die. The completed mission that is slightly delayed is still a better option that one that is not completed at all."

"Ah," was Locke's uninspired response. With his attempt at small talk beaten, he resigned himself back to staring at the barren landscape.

"Actually Locke, it's my turn to ask you a question," Norris said unexpectedly. When he saw Locke's surprise, his smile only widened. "I have questions too, I just don't ask them whenever they come to mind, but store them for the future."

Locke chuckled. "Alright, ask away."

"I was wondering about what Karen said back at the camp. She spoke of Sellenger and you seemed pretty confused until suddenly your eyes lit up like a campfire devouring dead grass. Now, what deed so great could catch her eye?"

Locke looked around and noticed that, by luck or Norris' deviousness, they were at the front of the group by quite some distance. Their conversation would be unheard by the soldiers -- as well as Terra -- if he simply lowered his voice. Though he did not actually want to tell Norris such a story, he almost felt as if he owed the old man at least a small part of the tale. Norris had been more than accommodating to his curiosity. It was the least he could do.

"Well, it involves Sellenger," Locke began.

"I could guess that much," Norris replied smartly.

Locke nodded to mask his slight annoyance. "It was about four years ago."

"That recent?" Norris whistled.

"Yes, well I was in Sellenger because I heard that the place was well-known for its fine arts. In particular, its jewelry stores were supposedly some of the best in the world. I found passage across the ocean and decided to take a vacation while seeing if the rumors were true. The Empire wasn't unfriendly to the northern continent then."

Norris nodded while he stroked his clean-shaven chin.

"Well, the rumors proved to be true and I picked up the finest stone I had ever seen," Locke recounted. "I didn't steal them," he said when he saw the look on Norris' face.

"You're pretty young," Norris said. "Considering it had been four years ago, I doubted you could afford such a thing. Sorry," Norris apologized.

"Well," Locke continued, "I got in trouble with the authorities anyways. They didn't like the fact that I had brought my friend along the trip."

Norris raised an eyebrow. "You bought an engagement ring?"

Locke narrowed his eyes. "I didn't say that," he said defensively.

Norris scoffed. "Well, it's obvious. The Emperor was an activist and always pushed for a great deal of change for the betterment of the Empire. If you got in trouble for bringing along a friend, then it must have been because you two were a young couple. The jewelry angle just tells me that I'm right, and you ended up getting stung by the ancient edict."

Locke looked away. "That doesn't matter. Do you want to hear the story or not?"

Norris shrugged. "If you're that uncomfortable with it, then I don't want to. I can guess the rest."

"That's pretty conceited of you," Locke growled. His mood was ugly now.

Norris grinned. "Karen was also a lowly Colonel four years ago. I recommended her promotion, so I know her history well. She was assigned to the Sellenger garrison as an instructor at the academy there. No doubt she noticed you when you caused a commotion with your little girlfriend. The Emperor's edict was quite old by that time and the problems with youth had mostly disappeared by then." Norris paused, turning around just as Clarkson had entered earshot.

Clarkson whispered something in Norris' ear and then ran back to the men behind them. In the distance, Locke could see Sherwood and Anthony talking to Terra and trying to make her laugh.

Norris continued when Clarkson was out of earshot. "After all, the children of the Empire put their efforts into the good of the lands instead of running away from their parents in doomed relationships. The Moral Crusade was genius and the children that grew up under such orders support it wholeheartedly, though I suppose an old man like me sees it as nothing but politics. Still, you would have stood out in her mind for that reason alone, as well as depending on what you ended up doing. Seeing that the punishment is a month with the army cleaning slop or something equally obscene, I have no doubt you escaped her soldiers and caused no small amount of trouble."

Locke glared at Norris.

"How accurate is my retelling?" Norris asked with the grin still on his face.

Locke shrugged. "Not at all," he said nonchalantly.

Norris laughed. "I'll ask Karen about it when we get back."

---

Edgar felt self-conscious. They strolled about in the streets of Tzen without any real disguises, but Strago had guaranteed them that his spell was without fault.

Magic or no magic, they were surrounded by Imperial troops. If were they caught, there was no possibility of escape. Soldiers were on every street, patrolling or running errands. The constant danger helped them forget Setzer's treachery.

The entire city had been militarized to an extent that Edgar barely recognized the place. He had been to Tzen once or twice on diplomatic visits, back when Figaro was still an ally of the Empire. The city had been quite a remarkable sight. It was nothing like the antiquated designs of Albrook or the cold industrialization of Vector, but rather a balance of beauty and functionality.

None of that was apparent any longer. The walls had been heavily fortified and artillery emplacements easily visible from miles away. The refugee problem that Edgar had heard about in Nestil and Cartha was no longer an issue. The fields of tents were tightly grouped together, and the roads cleared of citizens in order to make way for the troops arriving and departing the city. The masses within the capital had calmed down. Either that or they were afraid of all the soldiers.

There was a great deal of military activity. Edgar did not know the reason, but he doubted it would be good news for them. The whining of Magitek Armor engines could be heard everywhere and when they finally saw one, both Edgar and Cyan stopped in the middle of the street.

He had seen plenty of Magitek Armors in his lifetime, though never in such numbers. From the ambient noise, Tzen must have had one on every street. Pairs of machinations strolled down the cobblestones as often as patrolling soldiers. But it was not their increased presence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Edgar stared openly at the enclosure on top of the Magitek Armor, its pilot firmly defended behind a translucent shield that covered the entirety of the cockpit. It shone strangely, in such a fashion that Edgar knew that it was not glass but some sort of infernal material born from the labs of Vector.

Cyan stared up at the aging Armor -- it was painted a dull metallic color that was both peeling and rusting -- and the connotations of such a device sank in rapidly. The Doma Knight turned to the King of Figaro. "An unholy development," he whispered.

They looked further down the street and saw one of the brand new factories in Tzen. It was surrounded by Imperial soldiers and from its maw came two more Armors with the clear enclosure. A quick scan of the street and it was clear that not a single Magitek Armor was less than a decade old. The constant hum of heavy machinery emanating from the huge factories told the story to those willing to listen long enough: Tzen had not only been industrialized like Vector, but the Imperial War Machine had grown stronger in the midst of civil war.

Cyan looked worried and with good reason. The biggest weakness of the Magitek Armor had been the vulnerability of its pilot. Edgar's engineering talents might have dulled in the past years, but there was no doubt in his mind that the translucent covering could withstand the strongest arrowhead.

Moreover, to have the resources to upgrade even decade-old Armors with such technology... in the midst of civil war...

To say that Cyan had extensive experience with dispatching Magitek Armors was an understatement. Details on the Doma War had been sparse in Figaro, but in order for Doma Castle to survive the month after Imperial troops landed on the southern beaches, Imperial Armor had to have been rendered ineffective. Cyan was an authority on the subject matter, and the sweat running down his neck chilled Edgar to the bones.

"Where does this Lowell live again?" Strago asked. He had not noticed the state of the Imperial war machine, or perhaps more truthfully, he didn't care. "We must hurry!" His granddaughter's fate was the only thing on the mage's mind. The old man could be quite stubborn, although this time it was with good reason.

"Just around the corner," Edgar answered. He tried to ignore his observations about the Imperial military, but found that he couldn't. The upgrading of the entire fleet of Armors as well as the mustering of so many men, it had to mean something big had happened.

Or was going to happen...

Edgar shook his head. No matter, their concern was not the fate of the Empire. It was their friends that were important, not the remnants of Gestahl's legacy. Hopefully they could find Relm, Terra and Locke without any serious trouble, and then easily charter a boat to Figaro. Let the Empire tear itself apart in civil war and then deal with the stragglers.

---

Lowell was a Returner sympathizer, one of the many in Tzen, but the only one that Edgar could remember off-hand. The Kingdom of Tzen had been conquered by the Empire a dozen years past, and scars of war could not heal in such a short time. Gestahl had executed the entire royal house of Tzen after their surrender, and then employed an unpopular governor to handle affairs of the conquered lands. Taxes paid by the former citizens of Tzen had been astronomical and there had been famine and drought in the early years under Imperial rule. It had been revenge for the grievous losses that the Tzen Knights had inflicted on Imperial troops during the war.

Edgar's father had helped hide some of the Tzen nobility, the few that had not caught the eye of the Emperor because of their low standing or alleged death in battle. When Edgar had taken the throne, the secret documents detailing the existence of such refugees in the Kingdom of Figaro had become part of the burden he held. Edgar spoke at length with those former noblemen, many with families again, and had learned much of the war and the tactics the Empire employed.

In particular, he had heard of the Siege of the Gap. Between Tzen and the Imperial Core was the Gap of Reddenhurst, a small plateau that was surrounded by mountains and easily held by fortresses upon overlooking ridges. It was the only way north, unless one wished to journey around those mountain ranges.

The Gap of Reddenhurst had been where the Empire was defeated time after time. Archers could rain arrows upon those trying to breach the Gap and prevent any attempts to bypass the fortresses. The paths up to the stronghold had been treacherous and narrow, so that the outnumbered men of Tzen could ignore the difference in manpower. Each step the Empire took had been paved with the blood of ten men before it. Gestahl remembered this and the citizens of Tzen paid dearly. They suffered in the years after being conquered, suffered in a way that left lasting grudges for those who survived.

Still, time had passed and children then had grown up as Imperial men and women. Tzen was now part of the Empire, the name of the city and region was the only reminder of the past. What resistance there had once been was gone, killed or forgotten. Many have given up the idea of openly fighting the Empire, most were too old or lacked the will, but were still too stubborn to accept its rule. They helped the Returners instead, and Edgar was thankful for that.

Lowell was old. His long white hair reached partway down his back, unwashed and uncombed. In the past, he had been a librarian within Castle Tzen. Because of his station, he had known a few of the Tzen Royal House, and the tears he shed when they were executed still stained the floors of his dwelling.

The two-story home was cozy and filled with the smell of old books; Lowell did little but read in his last years of his life. To survive during the first years of the Empire's rule, he had sold his services as a learned man to tutor the children of the Emperor's governor and his cabinet. He had continued to teach the Imperial aristocracy while he helped the Returners in secrecy. With the recent changes to the ruling government, he had no job and spent his days deep within the books he loved, a cup of tea in one hand and the other propping up his thick glasses.

The former-librarian had been surprised to meet Edgar. "Never did I expect to be entertaining royalty again," he chuckled softly to himself while he searched for tealeaves.

Edgar thanked Lowell and introduced Cyan and Strago. "We're looking for a couple friends, and would appreciate a place to rest while we make our rounds. There will be no trouble, I assure you, we're trying to be quiet secretive," Edgar said.

"My home is yours," Lowell nodded as he took out a jar of honey. "I heard about the Emperor's death," the retired librarian took off his glasses and began to clean them with his shirt. "It's a sad fate... his passing that is."

Edgar was silent, instead wondering how exactly Strago's spell worked. Lowell had recognized his face instantly, yet Strago had promised them that his spell was without flaw.

Lowell put on his glasses. "I'm glad I lived until this day," he had a gleam in his eye. "I have no doubt your people were deeply involved, Edgar," there was a great deal of respect put into Edgar's name. Though his title had not been spoken explicitly, there was no doubt Lowell had meant it with all his heart. "I thank you for such a gift."

Edgar shook his head. "It's alright. You helped us enough in the past and our work just happened to be part of your dream."

They were herded into a dining room next to the kitchen. Lowell had been quite well off; he did teach nobility and was paid well for it. They all sat down while their host prepared tea.

"It appears that you have quite a bit of free time on your hands now," Edgar tried to make small talk.

Lowell sifted through tealeaves. "Yes. The neighbors have all found work in the factories, so they rarely come by now to entertain an old man. As for my teaching... during the Long Night there was a coup," he sounded quite sad.

"I'm sorry Lowell, for the children you taught," Edgar extended his apologizes quickly.

"No," Lowell shook his head. He turned back to them with a steaming teapot in hand. "They were spoiled brats with equally spoiled parents. I do not miss them."

"Then what's wrong?" Edgar asked after thanking Lowell for the tea.

"That I saw it coming," Lowell said as he poured himself a cup. "For years, I watched as the governor and his aides had less and less power; how the military seemed to be involved with everything. I watched as the aristocrats vanished in alleged monster attacks and how everyone just accepted it. The General here was subtle in her movements and people didn't ask the right questions to stop it from happening."

"A power-struggle," Edgar nodded in understanding. "You could say I am used to these politics," he smiled ironically. "The military coup must have been planned well ahead of time, perhaps for a year or more."

Lowell shook his head sadly. "People don't change. My once beautiful Tzen barely survives the wretched dark magic only to be plunged into war. I barely recognize the streets now. Monuments are ripped down. Factories spring up at every corner, even the roads themselves paved with melted stone. Once again, I am helpless as always... just another tired old man," he sighed.

Edgar felt a pang of guilt. He deftly maneuvered the topic to something else. They conversed for only a little while longer before Lowell retreated into his study. His study was nearly half of the house though, with many bookshelves that lined the walls to form narrow aisles. Books were stacked in a haphazard fashion, though the librarian probably had a method of ordering such piles. He read on the ground, hunched over some bounded text with a small candle for light.

When Edgar was reasonably sure they would be unheard by the old man, he turned to Strago and Cyan. "We'll start our search of the city with the herb shops," he said quietly. "They had to have been in at least one of them, although we'll be lucky if the shopkeeper remembers them. It's unfortunate that the marketplace is so busy and the streets so full."

"I have a couple ideas myself, so we should divide up the market and then go our separate ways," Strago said. He had remained patient only out of respect for Lowell. "Time is of the essence, we have wasted enough of it today."

Edgar did not like the look on Strago's face. The worry was evident in the wrinkles on his face, and Edgar was about to speak up when Cyan interrupted him.

"Strago is correct," Cyan argued crisply. "We must search post-haste for Relm."

Edgar could see that both men were thinking with their hearts rather than their brains. This was not going to end well.

Strago began to head for the door when Edgar suddenly remembered his question.

"Wait, Strago," Edgar held up a hand. "How does this spell work to hide our faces? It didn't seem to work on Lowell."

"The specifics are unnecessary for you to know," Strago waved Edgar off, clearly agitated by the delay. "I will begin the search now."

"Strago, if we don't know how vulnerable the spell is, then we could end up getting caught ourselves," Edgar warned.

Strago sighed. "It's just something to hide us from our enemies. It does nothing to those that are our friends," he said as he stood. "I have no time to explain everything, but it will be fine as long as I recast it when the sun rises." He turned away, heading for the door.

Edgar and Cyan did not stop the desperate grandfather. They exchanged a look of worry.

"I'll take the north, you have the south," Edgar said. Strago had already forgotten about dividing the marketplace, despite it being his own idea. "Let's hope Strago doesn't do anything stupid."

Cyan tied his cloak shut quickly, also eager to begin the search. "Our time grows short. The Empire is on the move."

"Yeah, I know." Edgar sighed. "I wish I knew why."

---

"Miles, take Anthony and scout ahead along that path," Norris Ferdinand pointed down the slope. They could see that the old dirt road they traveled, flanked by old pines and the darkness of the forest, twisted and turned all the way down the mountainside until it was lost in the valley ahead.

Both men saluted and quickly slipped into the trees.

"Bad feelings again?" Terra asked. It was not the first time that Norris ordered his men ahead. Every so often, the Colonel would suddenly give orders and the soldiers would vanish into the dense woods. Sometime later, despite the fact that they had never slowed down on their dirt path, those same soldiers would appear waiting patiently in front of them. Nothing had ever happened though.

"Always trust your feelings," Norris explained as he stared into the sky and frowned. "I learned that lesson the hard way years ago. I don't think I would have lived this long if I didn't, the ISF wasn't exactly kind to the careless."

"ISF?" Terra perked up at the mentioning of that term. "You were in the Special Forces?"

"You didn't think an old man like me would be swinging a sword on the front lines, now did you?" Norris grinned.

Terra frowned. She did not pick up Norris' teasing tone. "Did you know-?"

"Ah, so that's what this is about: General Chere," Norris interrupted. His eyes scanned the mountainside as he talked.

"Well..." Terra hadn't meant to ask about Celes.

"The answer is no. At least, not personally," Norris continued. They marched through one of the tight turns that was the signature of a switchback. "Her position as head of the ISF only lasted for a short while, though we were split up afterwards as a result," Norris grumbled. "Not very smart of the top brass, but that's water beneath the bridge." He waved a finger in the air, his focus elsewhere even while he rambled. "She defected and ended up fighting with you, I do believe. I'd say you probably know more about her than I would."

"I wasn't actually asking about her," Terra pointed out.

"No? Then why did you let me talk for so long?" Norris quipped with his attention focused on the thick mountain forest. His pace had slowed and the two of them were now trailing behind the main group of Imperial soldiers.

"You interrupted," Terra grumbled.

"Did I?"

Terra sighed. She gave up on her question and sped up. The dirt path twisted a full one-hundred and eighty degrees as they climbed down the mountain at a quick pace. Despite the frigid temperature, Terra could feel the sweat on her back. She hurried to catch up with the rest of the pack.

"You know, you really should ask that question," Norris had given up on whatever caught his attention earlier. His grin had yet to fade. "Let this opportunity slide, and it might never come up again."

He was teasing her, Terra thought. "I was just wondering if you knew Marcus."

"You'll have to be a bit more detailed than that," Norris raised an eyebrow. "I'm old. I've known at least a dozen men with that name in my lifetime."

Terra's brow furrowed. She couldn't remember Marcus' family name.

"Sandford," Locke offered. He had been keeping a protective eye on Terra and overheard their conversation.

Norris missed a step.

"What's wrong?" Terra asked. She had found it moderately disturbing that Locke had been listening, but seeing Norris trip was different altogether.

Norris laughed, quickly recovering from his near-fall. "I'm sorry, it's just surprising how small the world is sometimes," he said between chuckles.

"You knew him?" Locke slowed down so that he could walk beside Norris.

"Colonel Marcus Sandford was one of my best students," Norris Ferdinand reflected proudly. "He was a good swordsman, intelligent, quick wit to boot but most importantly, he had the charisma to lead. He was my second for over a year and that's when I noticed his skills; he got promoted through the ranks quickly. When General Chere was found to be a traitor, he both impressed and saddened me. You see, his unshakable loyalty had become a weakness. It caused him to be demoted all the way to Captain..."

"He was demoted?" Locke echoed. Something was nagging at him.

"House Sandford is a stubborn breed," Norris sighed.

"House Sandford?" Terra said in disbelief. "He was a nobleman?"

"That's righ-" Norris spun around and faced uphill. "Clarkson!" he screamed to his men in front.

Terra and Locke had both spent plenty of time on the battlefield. Instinctively, the two knew they were all in danger. Locke had grabbed Terra by the shoulder and pulled her protectively behind him. His other hand freed the shortbow on his back. He was sharp now, focused on his task as he grabbed the first arrow from his quiver.

Then they felt it.

It charged down the mountainside, crashing through the trees and ignoring the dirt path they were taking. It was like thunder charging down the cliff. Locke could see that it was injured, one horn was broken off and its purple skin had scars running along the length of the beast. A leg was broken, but it didn't matter as it wasn't running but falling down the mountain in a single-minded blood rage, intent on killing the humans that it considered prey.

A behemoth.

Locke would later wonder how the monster had survived the fall from the Floating Continent, how it had gotten as far south as the Strachan Mountains and how it had survived so many months in the wilderness without any food sources that could possibly be big enough to sustain it. He would wonder why it had been living in the mountains at such an altitude, and why it had decided that they were prey to be attacked. Finally, he would rack his brains trying to understand how an injured beast would decide to roll down the mountain in order to get to them.

At the moment, Locke simply pulled the bowstring tight and launched an arrow into the monster's eye.

Norris pointed with one hand and cast a spell of sorts. Locke didn't know if he saw the effect. The absolute lack of flames, ice, lightning, or even anything else to suggest that the behemoth had been hurt was not as surprising as the speed of which the monster traveled, no, fell towards them.

Trees, boulders, rocks, bushes and the multi-ton monster smashed through the dirt path. Norris jumped in one direction, Locke and Terra the other. They dived into the thicket and barely survived as the avalanche passed by. Smoke and dust was the trail it left, and Locke coughed when he tried to breathe. A rolling log had taken out the trees immediately around him and Terra laid no less than an arms-length away from a huge boulder that had been stopped by two barely still-standing pines.

"Terra! Are you alright?" he shouted.

Terra grunted in pain. Diving on the ground with her heavy pack had done more damage than the monster had. She pushed herself off the ground and looked in the direction of Locke's shouting.

"Behind you!" she shouted.

Locke swore at lady luck as a purple limb exploded through a tree trunk beside him. He dived to the forest floor but wasn't fast enough. The behemoth caught the top of his legs and Locke was airborne for a moment. He screamed in pain as his flight was broken by first the needles, and then the thick wooden trunk of a great pine. He crumpled at the base of the tree.

The behemoth looked at Locke, prone on the ground, and began to stalk closer.

Terra pointed at the monster and fire lanced outwards from her fingertips. It exploded against the behemoth's resilient skin and faded away. The purple-skinned monster turned away from Locke and glared at Terra.

Terra froze in horror as the behemoth charged towards her. She pointed at it again, her arm shaking, as she summoned another spell. This time, white-hot fire stretched forth from her hand and snaked around her body. Power from her immeasurable reserves bowed to her command and with a thought, the column of flame smashed into the behemoth's face and drew a horrifying scream of pain.

But the monster did not slow down.

It bore down upon her, moments away, and Terra could feel the rumbling inside her resurface. The siren's song was singing its seductive melody. Scarlet flames swirled about her, hungry for blood and screaming at its master to be let loose upon the world. Gripped with fear, she fought the feeling -- the limitless power! -- and the wall of flame dispersed futilely against the behemoth's armor-like skin. Her mouth was open in mute horror as she realized her time was up, the monster was upon her.

Terra's hair bellowed back as dust and pebbles showered her. She fell to the ground from the sudden impact. An invisible explosion had caught the behemoth in the side and sent it sprawling through a dozen trees. Arrows followed the behemoth's path and white-cloaked soldiers swarmed past Terra with bows drawn and ready. But the monster was too big, too heavy, and it broke through the last tree and continued its fall down the mountainside. They could hear its roar ended only with a horrendous thud that shook the land.

"Are you injured?" the closest archer, a blond-haired man that Terra recognized as Sherwood, looked her over.

A second man with dark hair, Anthony gave a thumbs-up signal. "She's fine sir!" he shouted louder than was prudent.

Sherwood gave his friend a pat on the back and then continued forward to where the behemoth fell.

Norris Ferdinand, his cloak ripped along the right arm, his face smeared with dirt, and his white hair disheveled, strode through the protective curtain of soldiers with a serious look on his face. "Anthony, Locke will need your first-aid skills. You three, with him," he ordered. As the soldiers dashed over to the injured Returner, Norris gave Terra a dangerous glare now that they were alone. "What were you doing there?" he had lowered his voice but his tone was deadly.

"I froze," Terra muttered.

"Not that," Norris growled. He grabbed her by the collar and pulled her off the ground. "You held back!"

Terra's eyes opened in surprise. How did he-

"You don't know how lucky you are that your friend survived," Norris whispered in a deadly voice. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing here, but if you think for a moment that underneath this grinning face is anything remotely stupid, you are sorely mistaken. I saw exactly what you did back, and it disgusts me!"

Terra tried to gasp for air, Norris was choking her.

"If you ever do that again," Norris continued. He had pulled her so close to his face that he was breathing on her. "If ever so much as hurt any of my men through your inaction, you will not live to see the next sunrise. Do you understand me?" His eyes bore down upon her with the more ferocity that the behemoth had.

Terra couldn't breathe; her words were nothing more than futile gasps. She nodded her head desperately, and fell to the ground with little ceremony.

"Miles! Help the girl up! We need to get out of here now!" Colonel Norris Ferdinand gave her one last threatening look and turned away.