Chapter Eleven:
Celestial Serenade
Celes immediately regretted opening her eyes. Why was it so freaking bright?! Through a tiny slit between her eyelids, she concluded that Mister Blue Sky had come before she had been ready. That bastard and his sunny disposition could fuck right off.
She yawned before pulling the covers of her comfy bed up over her head. Granted, it had nothing on the beds Edgar kept at Figaro Castle, but for a cheap inn out in the frozen asscrack of the world, this was high class. The downside? The silence of being out in the middle of nowhere made her head ache, or maybe it was the hangover. Either way, a full day of lazy sleeping was the only cure.
"Good morning!" Terra's voice from the foot of the bed was sweet and cheery, almost sickeningly so. All that was missing was the ice cream and chocolate syrup.
Celes grumbled a reply in kind. The last three days the two of them had done nothing but have fun drinking themselves to oblivion and back again. Damn that girl for not suffering hangovers. Considering how skinny she was, she should have succumbed to alcohol poisoning by now. It was as if she wasn't human.
Celes made another attempt at braving the sunlight and fought through the pain. At least this time didn't feel like someone was gouging her eyes out with wooden spoons. It took a long moment, but the glare focused into an interesting scene at the end of the bed, a beautiful scene that prompted her to sit up post-haste. Terra was completely nude save for a bright golden towel wrapped around her head and a pillow clutched in hand.
"Terra, why are you-" The words hadn't even fully left her mouth when the world went completely black, a feather stuffed pillow snuffing out the stinging light and sending her back to the soft bed.
Musical giggling followed a cry of "I win!" from across the room.
Like a swamp zombie rising from the primordial soup, in this case comprised mostly of rum, hazy memories of the game they had been playing last night crawled from the depths – 'Drunken Pillow Shieldmaidens,' or in simpler terms, a pillow fight. Both Celes and Terra had been evenly matched throughout the entire night, even with the continued degradation of alcohol. She must have passed out at some point, leaving herself open for a morning sneak attack. She removed the suffocating bag of softness and sat up with a groan.
Terra sat down on the edge of the bed nearby and grinned the biggest grin that could fit on her slender face. "Good morning again!" she said brightly.
It was difficult maintaining eye contact when the girl of her desires was naked in front of her. Instead, Celes focused on the jarring color dissonance between Terra's green hair and the bright yellow towel on her head. "What are you doing up so frickin' early?" she grumbled.
"I'm not hungover like some of us." The cheeky grin radiating off Terra's face was bright enough to light the darkest corners of the darkest hearts. And that cheeky tone… Well, someone was starting to remember themselves. This was progress and progress was good. "You might want to get out of bed sometime today, sleepyhead. Edgar said that Banon wants to speak with me."
"…which means that he'll want to speak with the rest of us." Celes rubbed her throbbing temples with a groan. "Bloody hell."
Musical giggling again filled the room. "Still drunk, are we?"
"Hush you." She probably was. The room wasn't spinning haphazardly yet, but the idea of standing on her legs made her stomach run and hide behind her spine. "I'm curious, though. You going to turn down his offer to join the Returners again?"
Terra's sunny disposition turned stormy. Her shoulders deflated as she stared at her wringing hands and the imaginary laundry she had hurriedly started folding. "I don't know," she said softly. "I don't want to fight. I just want to hide away from things that want to use me as a dangerous weapon."
Celes sighed. The entire town of Narshe had no idea how close they had come to becoming a crispy tortilla. Even she had no real idea how close she had come to death in her fight to free Terra from the esper. Becoming oneself in an alternate universe was close enough, and close enough had been too close if anyone asked her.
"And if you get sent off somewhere," Terra continued, "I'll be alone." She hugged herself and shivered. "I don't want to be alone."
Celes begrudgingly swung her legs over the edge of the bed before hugging Terra from the side. "I'm not going anywhere without you. Not now. Not after losing you. I'll punch anyone who tries to tell me otherwise."
Terra tried hiding between her shoulders as her face went red, most likely from embarrassment. "But I nearly killed you…"
Celes shook her head and fought off room-spinning nausea. "Stop thinking like that. A bastard egotistical esper nearly killed me. You just happened to be there." She hugged Terra tighter, not only to keep from falling face-first off the bed but to raise Terra's spirits as well.
Terra nodded slowly and flashed a weak grin before going back to her hand-wringing and imaginary knitting. "I'm sorry for making things awkward between us."
"Sweetheart, there's nothing awkward between us." A total lie, of course. That awkward thing between them was Celes herself, but she sure as hell wasn't going to admit that. Doing so would sink the H.M.S. Friendship and then she'd be a general with no one to sail through life with. She scoffed softly, mostly because laughing would have split her head wide open. "You want awkward? Share a room with Edgar and count the number of times he calls you beautiful before he tries to cop a feel."
Terra doubled over with giggles and lost the towel on her head in the process. Her damp hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back like a verdant waterfall. It also perfectly framed her face, giving the impression that she was a forest nymph hiding behind a veil of grass. All she needed now were pointed ears. "You're sweet," she said, "in a brash sort of way."
To Celes, Terra was beautiful in a…
The train of thought died when Terra leaned forward and softly brushed a kiss on Celes' cheek that cut through the hangover like a hot knife through cold butter. She then, like a sulking lap cat, tried to bury herself in a shoulder. "But… If things aren't awkward then why do you sometimes stare at me and quickly look away?"
Because there were so many things to say and Celes didn't know how to do so. She held her breath for a moment before letting it out slowly. Was she that obvious in her feelings? Or was Terra more observant than she thought? Yes, she wanted to sing her heart out, but the fear of rejection was a very real roadblock that she just couldn't find her way around. In the roadmap in her mind, there were no detours nor were there signs pointing any pathways out. She was on her own, lost with no hope of being found or taken to her destination.
She had no problems getting other girls out of their knickers, but for whatever reason Terra was different. Her social confidence fell to the darkest pits of the earth and, funny enough, buried itself. She could fantasize all she wanted, but the chances of Terra being attracted to women were about as great as… as… as something just as equally outlandish. Terra saw her as a close friend and nothing more. Yes, this she knew.
Celes began to feel the uncomfortableness of Terra quietly passing the time by staring at her as she patiently waited for a response to her query. It was nerve-wracking. It also forced her to blurt out the first thing that came to mind. "If you want me to stop staring then stop being so bloody beautiful." As soon as the words had left her lips, she mentally cradled her face in her palm. What the hell?! Of all the stupidest, corniest, and cheesiest things she could have said… She either couldn't control herself around Terra these days or she'd been hanging around Edgar too much.
Terra sat in a stunned silence, her mouth silently trying to find words before she turned pink in a full body flush. "You… You think I'm beautiful?" she finally said to the cold wooden floor.
The awkwardness in the room was so thick that it could have been sliced up and served for breakfast with toast and coffee. So much for there being nothing awkward between the two of them. Celes cursed her malfunctioning mouth, the stupidity bouncing around inside her head, and the hangover she was suffering from. She too looked at the floor in silence. If she said anything further, she was bound to make things worse.
"So, you going to cop a feel anytime soon?" The inquisitive Terra had crossed her arms behind her head which would have allowed easy access to the ample goods on her chest if Celes had chosen to take her up on her offer. And there they were, incredibly difficult to miss, taunting her with their taut perkiness and pointing at her with accusation.
A cold shiver went down Celes' spine. The awkwardness in the room became worse, suffocating even. The silence between them was deafening, so much so that the alarm clock at the bedside became rhythmic lightning strikes. A part of her wanted to take Terra up on that offer, grab two handfuls, and give a good old-fashioned squeeze. The other part of her panicked.
Should she do it? Should she not? No, the key here was not to be Edgar. But a challenge had been issued! She had to do it now! What should she say? Anything? Nothing at all? Was Terra serious? Was she joking?
The stand-off diffused when Terra giggled uncontrollably. Celes stared uncomprehendingly until the breaking of the tension smacked her down into her own snorting snickers. She fell back to the bed and cackled, tears flowing from her eyes like mighty rivers. She felt Terra's weight adjust on the bed as she fought to rub her eyes dry.
Soon, Terra was hovering overhead on her hands and knees, her hair creating a gorgeous verdant curtain that separated them from the rest of the mundane world. With a smug grin, she said, "You're easy to tease."
"You've been hanging around Edgar too much."
Terra stuck her tongue out in defiance. "Or maybe I just know how to push your buttons."
Celes couldn't keep the smile down as she sighed. "I know I've said this before, but, Baldur's Gate, I've missed you."
Terra found Banon on the outskirts of town, sitting on a rocky ledge and staring the mountain down, daring it to move from under his stony scrutiny. He stroked his bushy beard as he gazed outward, leading her to wonder why men with facial hair did such things. Was it a pleasurable thing? Did they do their actual thinking with their beards? Did stroking them help with the process? It was the strangest thing.
She was tempted to tease him with, "You'll go bald if you keep tugging at that!" However, her bravery faltered leaving her comfortable saying such cheeky things only to Celes and maybe Locke on a good day. If so inclined, FireBeard could single-handedly heft her up by her ponytail and chuck her off the edge of that drop-off in swift retribution. It was a long way down to the ground below the morning mists, and flying wasn't exactly something she excelled at.
Instead, Terra took comfort in rubbing her upper arm and hiding between her shoulders. Despite having spoken to him multiple times over the past few days, his overbearing presence still unnerved her. She wouldn't have been so worked up if Celes were present, but a certain someone needed the entire morning to flush half a week's worth of alcohol out of her system.
It was odd that Terra didn't suffer hangovers like Celes. Granted, she hadn't consumed as much alcohol, but she did feel a tad sluggish, tired, and ill-at-ease. At least she wasn't stumbling and needing to pray to the gods of porcelain. She chuckled at the thought, an action which caught Banon's attention.
"Ah, Terra," he said with a soft smile. "A pleasure to see you."
"Good morning," she said, returning the smile with a pinch of unease. She closed the gap between them and took him on his offer to sit beside him, perched precariously hundreds of feet, possibly even miles, to their deaths.
"I see the last few days of rest seem to have done you some good."
Terra's cheeks burned in embarrassment. She looked away to find something out in the mountains to focus on, but ultimately found nothing but mists, snow, and rock, none of which that were particularly interesting. "I, um, do feel a bit more relaxed, hey," she said between bites on her bottom lip. "Regular meals have helped, too, I think."
Banon nodded, his smile still warm underneath the beard. "Just looking at you, I can tell you suffered under Kefka's control," he said. "I won't ask what; the fact that he did so is deplorable enough. I'm just glad that I was able to help ease your suffering enough that you can walk around without General Chere as your shadow."
A ray of sunshine threatened to escape from behind Terra's impassive frown. "She's hungover."
FireBeard laughed hard enough that he could have caused an avalanche. This, thank the gods, never happened. "Of this, I am not surprised," he said. "Edgar has regaled me with stories of the General's affinity for rum. I never thought I would see it firsthand."
Terra nodded and nervously wrung her hands. She had initially been concerned about how much liquor Celes had been packing away until she had entered the drunken haze herself. She had become one with the peace and laughter in the world. Her worries had melted away. The danger chasing her had gone away. Fighting for survival had become a thing of the past. It had filled her to the point of bursting with happiness and some other descriptionless emotion.
Just thinking about this unknown emotion and its ties to Celes made her feel drunk, doubly so when actually drunk. She had gotten the same feeling when Celes had drunkenly sung to her, at least she assumed it had been to her. A near flawless rendition of "Aria Di Mezzo Carattere" Edgar had described it as he wiped away man-tears. Terra had never heard the song prior, probably since she had never seen the opera, The Dream Oath, but still found it a lovely tune that revealed a warm and tender side to a normally cold and stony general. She wanted to hear that wonderful voice one more time and wear it like a cozy cloak.
The warm fuzzies in her head must have shown on her face as Banon said with a rumbling laugh, "I won't ask." His demeanor then turned serious. "But I will have to push us forward. I'm sure you realize why I've asked to speak with you today."
Terra nodded, but silently wished she could go back to daydreaming. It was more fun than the conversation she knew was coming.
"Good. I can jump straight to the point," he said with a clearing of his throat. "I'll ask one final time; will you join us? Will you help us in putting a stop to the Empire and in preventing another War of the Magi?"
Terra sighed. She had put off answering for several days now because she hadn't wanted to think about it. She doubted she could get away with another. She had to decide now.
She could tell him no and lead a peaceful life in Figaro Castle at Edgar's invitation. But Celes had gone and joined the Returners without a second thought, which meant that she'd always be away fighting. That would then lead to Terra's involvement with Edgar and becoming his queen to live out her life dressed in fancy clothes, frequenting fancy parties, and birthing fancy children. Intriguing, but not her heart's desire.
She could instead get work as a serving wench at one of the Figaro taverns. There she would meet all sorts of interesting people and live out her life through their tales. She would wear a sexy cocktail dress and suffer being stared at, groped, and having sticky drinks tossed on her. Actually, no. Loneliness in a crowd was even worse than loneliness itself. And she wanted to smell like booze only if she'd been drinking it.
Terra desired traveling the world, discovering its history, and digging up its secrets. She wanted to share that adventure with Celes, and there was only one way that could happen. She didn't like it, but it was basically her only option. "I will," she said behind a wall of unease, "but I'm scared."
At first, Banon had seemed surprised as if he had been expecting a different response. That look disappeared as he patted her on the shoulder with a monstrous hand. How someone as big and scary as him could softly give comfort without breaking bones was a mystery. "This uncertainty you're feeling is only natural, my dear," he said soothingly. "You've been thrust into a world you have no memories of and along come we, asking if you would spearhead the operation to save it."
He had reached into his coat and produced a pair of gloves that were soon resting in Terra's hands. They were fingerless with crimson elbow length cuffs and sun yellow trim, the same colors as her dress. The material, unlike her dress, looked and felt like fabric but was as tough and rigid as steel. She studied them a moment longer before regarding FireBeard. "What're these?" she said. "Gloves?"
"Correct," he said. "Genji Gloves to be exact. Good luck relics that have been handed down in my family for generations. Supposedly they had been enchanted by mage knights during the War of the Magi to protect their wearer."
Terra returned her gaze to the gloves in her hands. Everyone had given her something, but she had nothing to give in return. It didn't feel right. "But why give them to me?"
"I have sired no children and am too old to do so now," he said with a sigh. "I'd pass them to my younger brother, but he has sired none to herald his legacy as well." His warm smile returned. "Consider them a gift, my dear. A gift of good luck and fortune; a beacon of light in a series of dark moments."
Surprisingly, the gloves were a perfect fit as if they had been designed specifically for her. A clichéd thought, of course, but that sounded much more epic than what it really was, a coincidence. The magic within pulsed haphazardly until settling to match her own rhythm. If her senses were right, and she suspected they were, then these gloves were powerful enough to stop blades like any heavy shield. A perfect accessory for a dual blade wielder!
Oh! And they were so cute!
"Thank you," Terra said with the softness of embarrassment. "But I…do have one condition. Wherever you send me, whatever you have me do, I… I want Celes to come with me." She met his warm gaze for a moment before quickly looking away and finding interest in rubbing her upper arm. "If something like Valigarmanda were to take control of me again…"
"Do not worry yourself, my child," Banon said. "I would not dream of separating one from her shadow. Besides, I am fully aware that the only way to combat magic is with magic."
Terra breathed a sigh of relief. He understood. She didn't have to plead her case.
"Now, with all that nonsense out of the way, I'd like you to gather everyone for a meeting at the Drunken Moogle."
"The Drunken Moogle?"
"The tavern, my dear. The one from where General Chere has been procuring her alcohol."
"Oh. Right."
And with that, Terra was dismissed, leaving her just as scared and confused as she had been in dawn's early light. On her travels back into Narshe, she accidentally bumped into Locke just outside the town gates, frightening the poor bastard nearly half to death. He had been so engrossed in staring at the mountainous scenery that he hadn't heard her approach.
"So, I take this to mean that you've joined the Returners?" he queried once hearing Banon's request.
Terra nodded. "They say that time makes things easier, but I'm still unsure if I made the right decision."
Locke's disposition soured immediately. Eye contact ceased when he chose to stare at the ground. "Time doesn't always make things easier," he said with a slight edge of… Anger? Sadness? Both? "The Empire took someone important away from me. It's been years, but it still feels like yesterday. Every day's been a struggle just to cope with the basics of living. I had no one to guide me or point me in the right direction."
Terra hadn't known that Locke had suffered. It was even possible that other Returners had similar stories to his…and hers. They wouldn't oppose the Empire so feverishly if they hadn't. "Is that why you…?"
"Joined the Returners? I wanted to make a difference, you know? I wanted the deaths of my loved ones to have meaning outside of more senseless bloodshed."
The apology she offered was a lame one and not hers to give, but she felt the need to offer it anyway.
"Don't apologize, Terra," he said. "Just promise me that you won't make the same mistake I did. Tell the ones important to you how you feel before it's too late. Don't leave it unspoken."
"I don't have anyone except Celes," she said to the ground beneath her feet. "If I have any family or other friends, I don't remember. She's the only person in this world familiar—no, important to me. I'd be lost without her."
Locke grinned broadly and locked his hands behind his head. "And I'm sure despite that ice-cold act she puts on, she depends on you just as much you depend on her."
Terra lamely nodded in agreeance. "I just wish I knew why I remember only her and not anything or anyone else."
"Don't look a gift chocobo in the mouth, Terra."
Don't look a gift…what? A stunned moment of silence passed before she could say, "I don't know what that is let alone know if I want to look it in the mouth."
Locke laughed. "Sorry. Old Kohlingen expression. It means you shouldn't question events that turned out in your favor. Just think, you could have woken up with no memories at all."
A thought she didn't want to think about yet found herself obsessing over. What if she hadn't remembered anything? She would have been alone and trusting of the first person she'd come across. If that person had been an Imperial instead of Celes… A shudder surfaced with the thought of what could have been.
When they came upon the tavern, they each went their separate ways with a wave, Locke to wait for the meeting and Terra into town to find either Celes or the two Figaro brothers. As she wandered, it amazed her how the people could live in such a harsh environment. The midmorning sun offered very little warmth in the bitter cold, forcing her to pull her cloak tighter. Everywhere she went slippery footpaths nearly sent her tumbling into piles of dirty soot covered snow. The smell of burning pine tickled her already cold-raw nose with sneezes and choked her breaths with coughs.
Most of the passersby this morning completely ignored her, the fact that she had nearly destroyed the town on more than one occasion forgotten. Of course, they only knew the potential destructor as a cat-like woman with lavender hair and emblazoned with a suit of fire, not a shivering green-haired girl hiding within a purple cloak. The incident on the mountain had been many things, but thank the gods it had changed her back to human.
She stopped at the bakery, the yeasty smell of deliciousness forcing her tummy to complain about a lack of breakfast and her mouth to water in desire. She watched with hungry eyes as the pretty shop clerk inside filled the glass case with donuts of various types and fillings, sausage rolls, pies of different meats and flavors, fruit loaves. Oh, how she wanted it all! But she had no gil in her purse. So far, everything had either been paid for by Edgar or Banon and, on this morning, neither were with her.
"Take care, Terra, or you will flood the bakery out of business!"
Startled out of her starvation trance, Terra whirled around and tried wiping away the drool that had collected on her chin and chest. Behind her, she found Edgar grinning with a knowing look in his eye. Of all the people to run into here! "Edgar!" she said with surprise.
He bowed at the waist and, after taking her hand in his, kissed the back of her fingers. "The one and only, King of Figaro, at your service."
She pulled her hand free and continued wiping the cold slime away from her chin. "What are you doing here?"
"Hunger is a dastardly thing, is it not?" he said proudly. "However, 'tis nothing a cruller and a coffee can fix."
Terra frowned with confusion. "What's a cruller?"
He took a moment to scrutinize her. "Surely, you have tasted a cruller before. They are quite the delicacy here in the Northern continents."
She shook her head and stared at the snowy ground with embarrassment. "I don't think I've had coffee before either."
This prompted laughter from Edgar. "Well," he said, "I shall have to rectify that! Come inside with me, my dear! The bakers here shall share their delights and send you to heaven!"
Terra followed him inside the little shop and sighed in content. The deliciousness of baked goods sweetened her battered nose, and the warmth of the ovens embraced her with their yeasty arms. It was such a cozy feeling that she had to fight off the urge to curl up and sleep in the corner. She did so by eying the different loaves of bread on racks behind the counter. There were at least thirty different kinds, and each one looked as tasty and fresh as the last. But the most important and tastiest bit had been the chest-high case before her—the same one she had seen the shop clerk fill with pies and sausage rolls. The closer she got, the more powerful and delicious the yeasty meaty smell became.
Dear gods… She wanted to devour everything in sight.
Her thoughts dissolved when the shop clerk presented her a bright smile and a sturdy paper cup filled to the brim with a hot frothy liquid; its smell an overpowering one of bitterness and dairy with a hint of nutmeg. "What's this?" she said with a sniff and a frown of confusion. It was an okay smell, not too unpleasant but not mind blowing either. The warmth provided to her hands was appreciated much more.
"Latte," Edgar said before taking a sip of his own. "A type of coffee. 'Tis one of my favorites."
Terra sniffed at it once more and this time detected vanilla buried deep underneath. People drank this? It smelled burnt with other pleasant aromas forcibly attached, like a science experiment gone wrong. She couldn't imagine drinking something that smelled like this every day, but then again, she hadn't tried it yet.
Edgar dangled a white paper bag in front of her and waggled his eyebrows at her. "Come, my dear. Let us walk and talk as we break our fasting."
She nodded and followed him out of the shop, sorrowfully leaving the wonderful aromas and warmth behind. Once outside, she finally worked up the courage to give her drink a taste test. For a start, it was hot, like Baldur's Gate, she-may-have-burned-her-bloody-tongue-type-of-hot. But it had flavor. Dear gods, did it have flavor. Yes, it was a tad bitter, but that was overshadowed by the sweetness of vanilla and the nuttiness of the nutmeg. And it filled her with warmth that she felt all the way down to her booted toes. Oh, yes, Terra liked!
Next came the cruller that Edgar handed her with a grin. This one, she wasted no time diving into. It was cakey and sweet and, Baldur's Gate, it complimented the latte so well that an orgy of flavors orgasmed on her tongue with every bite. Her knees went weak in pleasure and threatened to drop her to the cobbles. By the time they had made it to the end of the block, like the featherless and white chocobos of old, her pastry had gone extinct and her coffee endangered.
"I see someone had been hungry," Edgar said.
Terra gave him an embarrassed smile before hiding within her cloak. "I was," she said. "Thank you."
Edgar laughed. "Anytime," he said. "So, I assume since you are out and about that you have had your meeting with Banon."
She nodded. "He, um… He wants everyone to meet at the tavern."
"Ah! Splendid! Marching orders!" He extended his bent elbow in her direction. "May I walk you to our destination, my dear?"
"I still have to find Sabin and Celes," she said with a shake of her head. "Celes I have idea of where she might be, but Sabin…"
"Last I saw my brother, he was training in the town square. Do not worry about our dear Celes. I shall see to it that she attends." He winked. "I have the perfect hangover remedy to cure what ails her."
Terra frowned. "Do I want to know?"
Edgar walked off with a laugh and wave of the back of his hand. "Probably for the best you remain ignorant," he said. "We shall see you soon!" With that, he rounded the corner and was gone with a wisp of a wind-blown mist of snow.
Terra, perplexed, remained rooted in place. He was such an odd one, that King of Figaro. She took another sip of her drink to warm up and, with a confused frown, turned towards the town square.
It didn't take long to find Sabin. A turn here, a cross the street there, and there he was, as Edgar said. In fact, even a blinded person would have had no issues finding him what with his flipping all over the place, punching and kicking the air, and deafening battle cries. The large crowd of children watching him had stars in their eyes so bright that Terra wished she knew a blind spell to curb the glare. Or maybe that had been from the cloud of snow he was kicking up. Maybe it was both.
He flipped across the thoroughfare, backward and at such high speed that Terra thought he was going to bowl into her. She cringed with a squeal and felt the tiny stings of snowflakes striking her cheeks.
"Oh, hey, Terra," he said nonchalantly and right in front of her.
Terra looked out around the coffee cup she had used as a shield to find him grinning wildly half an arm's length away from her. It was the same grin that Edgar usually wore whenever he said something to tease Celes. "I thought you were going to hit me!" she said with exasperation.
He waved off her concerns. "If you had moved, probably. But I took a gamble that you'd freeze."
That bastard! He was teasing her! He was no better than his brother!
"Sorry, kids. Duty calls," he said to the group of children that had surrounded them. A chorus of groans prompted him to shrug his shoulders. "Don't worry. I'll be back with more before we leave for good!"
Terra smiled when the group of children cheered. She took Sabin's arm when he offered it, and let him lead them back towards the inn. And he could be a gentleman as well, much like his brother.
"Think I found the next generation of students," he said as they made their way across the cobblestones. "With Duncan gone, it's now up to me to pass the knowledge along."
"I think you'll be a fine teacher, hey," she said. "The children looked like they adore you." She paused. "Just don't scare the wits out of them like you did me."
"Monk's honor," he said with a grin and a mock salute. "So, I'm guessing that you've been sent to collect me so Banon can give us our marching orders."
Terra opened her mouth, but the words had escaped her. How…? Did he possess magic? She didn't feel anything radiating off him of that nature, but she hadn't felt any from Celes earlier either. Side effect of alcohol, perhaps? "How did you know that?"
Sabin laughed, either because she had made an unwitting joke or she bore an expression he found silly. "You told me," he said.
Once again, she tried hiding within her cloak. "But I haven't said anything yet."
"You didn't have to. This is the first time in three days I've seen you sober and the first ever without your usual shadow." He nodded to her arms. "And now that you've got some fancy bracers, I'll even go so far to guess that you've joined the Returners."
Shadow… Strange Banon had said the same thing. If anything, she would have categorized herself as the shadow since she was the one always hiding. She craned her neck to look Sabin in the eye. "Are you a mind reader?"
He said with a shrug, "Nah. I just know how to read people and situations, I think. Edgar says that I'm too perceptive for my own good." He laughed again, the upbeat demeanor infectious enough to cause Terra to do the same. "Speaking of, I can't say much on the Returners themselves, but you can trust my brother. I know he can be lecherous at times and a pervert behind his fancy talk, but his heart's always in the right place. Well…" He paused and looked deep in thought. "…most of the time. It does get buried behind his love of the female form."
Terra wondered if Edgar's heart was the reason Celes considered him a friend despite all the insults and teasing the two of them traded. That would also explain why he was so highly regarded here in a frozen land that he didn't even rule over.
Sabin continued, "Just, um, don't tell him I said any of that. He'll turn redder than a cactuar flower!"
Terra giggled at the thought of a crimson-faced sheepish-looking Edgar. How adorable! As tempting as it was saying something upon their arrival at the tavern, Sabin had asked nicely to keep his words a secret. She couldn't go against that. "Don't worry, Sabin! Mum's the word!"
Other than a beaming grin from Sabin, nothing else was said during their walk to the tavern. It had been surprising to learn, once they had pushed through those loud creaking doors, that Celes, Old Gravel, and FireBeard had at some point joined Locke and Edgar. The five of them were seated at a table in the corner along with other Returners Terra had never met before. Also present were the three Imperials they had taken prisoner, but they were in Returner uniforms? This was odd.
Even odder was the continued presence of a hazy smoke when no one was smoking. It was as if the very building permeated a smoky mist of bitter tobacco. Were other taverns in the world like this or was it just this one?
Sabin took a seat near Edgar while Terra made a beeline for the empty chair beside Celes. As she passed behind, she couldn't help but trail her fingertips across those slouching shoulders. She didn't really know why she had done it, but the flaring of red cheeks and the cracking of a stony glare made it all the worthwhile. "Still hungover?" she whispered as she slipped into her seat.
Celes said hoarsely, "Feels like I've got two feral monkeys bangin' arse inside my head."
"That's a pretty specific thing you've got going on in there," Locke said with a smirk and a lean forward. He briefly made eye contact with Terra and transformed the smirk into a full-fledged grin. "Care to elaborate on that?"
Based on the look of irritation that fell into place, Celes did not.
Banon coughed to gain the table's attention. Once all eyes were on him, he steepled his hands as he leaned forward. The look on his face was one of seriousness, but Terra couldn't focus on that. His long beard had bent at the table and found a resting spot under his hands like it was sleeping in a house. Poor little guy must have been wiped out after a tough day of being tugged and pulled!
"Ah, good," he said with a clearing of his throat. "We're all here. Edgar, I understand that you're requesting to return to Figaro Castle?"
Edgar flipped his braided hair tail over his shoulder with a nod. "Indeed," he said. "I can only trust the Chancellor in running the nation in my absence only for so long. I shan't want him to succumb to a nervous breakdown! Heavens forbid!" Both he and Sabin chuckled as if the funniest joke in the world had just gone off on a killing spree.
Terra didn't understand what was so funny. Locke was grinning as was Celes, which was a shock all on its own, but no one else. They must have been in on the joke. Or maybe they knew what a chancellor was.
"Very well," Banon said. "That actually works in our favor."
"How so?" Locke said from underneath an arching eyebrow.
Banon paused dramatically, taking the time to look every single person in the eye before settling on Terra and rumbling, "I have heard whispers of another esper."
Under the gasping table, Terra nervously wrung her hands. There was another esper? If that was true, she couldn't feel it. It was either far away, very good at hiding itself from detection, or overpowered by local sources Celes and Valigarmanda. Hopefully, it was the first one. She didn't want to be enthralled again. Once—no—twice was enough.
Locke muttered, "That doesn't really answer my question." He was soon shushed by Edgar.
"Where is it?" Celes demanded. "The Upeast Continent? The Backwest? Please don't say Downunder."[1]
Terra stiffened in her chair. Downunder? That name sounded so familiar but brought nothing to the table. She had no idea where it or any of the other places were. Maybe it rang some bells because of the familiarity of the words 'down' and 'under.' Besides, they were all ridiculous names for places. What unimaginative person in their right mind would arrive at a location and say, "Right, lads! This place has a down and under sort of feel to it. Let's call it Downunder!"
Banon chuckled heartily at the increasingly panicked questioning. "Certainly not there, General," he said. "I'm not silly enough to take on the heart of the Empire. Not yet. This was an esper sighted in Zozo of all places."
Another silly name. Terra started to wonder if perhaps the entire world had been named by unimaginative children. What was next? A town called Castle in a land named Hyrule?
Edgar hummed and rubbed his chin as if lost in thought. "Very strange," he eventually said. "A Whozyer[2] cannot be trusted any further than they can be thrown. I am genuinely surprised that you are following this up, Banon."
FireBeard tapped his fingertips against each other as he stared Edgar down through them. "After the discovery here in Narshe, I'm willing to look into anything no matter how unlikely it is," he said harshly. "Something dire will be happening soon. I can feel it. It is the only reason I can think of as to why espers are suddenly appearing again as well as Terra being the only one who can understand them."
Celes snorted as she brushed stray hair from her eyes. "I'm going out on a limb here to guess that you want someone to investigate."
Terra felt a hard frown spreading. She had a bad feeling that she already knew who that someone was going to be.
"Correct," Banon said with a nod.
Edgar leaned back in his chair with a flippant wave of his hand. "And now I see why my returning to Figaro is beneficial. Figaro Castle is at your service."
Terra looked around the table with the wide eyes of confusion. How was returning to Figaro beneficial? The castle town had been built in the middle of a desert. It had no port or water nearby. Had Edgar manufactured some sort of flying machine?
FireBeard continued, "Terra, I want you to go to Zozo, confirm the presence of an esper there, and if possible persuade them to join our cause in preserving peace."
Bollocks. She had been correct with her initial assumption; she did know who was being sent on the mission: her! She just hoped that Zozo wasn't quite as bad as Edgar had made it out to be.
"I'm not going by myself, am I?" she said to her lap. "I…don't know where Zozo is."
"I would not dare send you there by yourself. Zozo is…rather a silly place. Celes, Sabin, and Locke will accompany you."
Sabin cracked his knuckles with a snort and chuckle. "Hey, Locke, you're a thief, right? You should know the way there quite well."
Locke folded his arms across his chest and sank back in his chair with a scowl. "I'm a treasure hunter, muscles-for-brains," he snapped. "There's a major difference."
Arvis raised a hand and rattled the rocks in his throat to gain the table's attention. "And what of the esper here, Banon?" he said. "Who will be keeping watch over it?"
FireBeard leaned back in his chair and beamed a grin that was both reassuring and scary simultaneously. "I'll be leaving that in the hands of our newly formed Rebel Squadron," he said. "A group comprised of former Imperial MagiTek pilots Wedge Antilles, Biggs Darklighter, and Ziggy Stardust." Each soldier made a gesture as their name was spoken, ranging from a slight wave to a nod of the head.
Wedge crossed his arms behind the small of his back and said, "We'll be ready for action as soon as we can get our MagiTek armors up and running."
Terra looked back and forth between Wedge and Biggs, her suspicions running wild with the theory that she had seen the both of them somewhere before. Had they been soldiers that she had known before her amnesia had struck? She turned to Celes, who looked just as confused.
"Hey, I know you blokes," Celes said with a snap of her fingers. "You were the slum drunks we mugged in South Figaro!" She paused to stare at Ziggy. "Except you. Do I know you, mate?" He deflated as she spoke.
Biggs angrily smothered his face with his hand. "Great. First, it's 'Vicks,' and now it's 'slum drunk.' What's next?"
With eyes glued to Celes' chest, Ziggy said, "At least she's not kicking us in the boobs—Er, I mean, balls."
"Keep staring and I just might." Celes pointed to her face and growled, "Eyes up here, dickhead."
Wedge sighed. "Some things just never change."
Not much had changed in the caves since that game-changing night when welks had been fought, and green-haired girls had changed into fiery cats. Despite the Returners tinkering around with the abandoned and short-circuited MagiTek Armors, they were still standing guard over the positions they had been left. Like statues, but more deadly because lasers and part robot.
Wedge dug through the sparse tool box until he found what he had been searching for, an adjustable spanner. It was small compared to the size of the MagiTek Armors, but still large enough to do some serious damage if used as a two-handed melee weapon. He hefted the heavy thing onto his shoulder before addressing Vicks in the cockpit of his old mount. "Are you sure this is what you need?" he said.
"I dunno, sir," Vicks said. "Pass it up, and we'll find out."
Wedge did as requested and afterward leaned up against a cold metallic leg to await further instructions. So far, the repairs on the MagiTek Armors had been going by at a snail's pace. For a start, he and Biggs' weren't engineers nor did they know much about the MagiTek aspects of the machines.
Surprisingly, Ziggy had been studying to be an engineer before 'enlisting' into the Imperial army, which had come as a huge help in things. And Biggs had done some tinkering on MagiBikes in his spare time. All they could do was take a whack at fixing the issues before giving up and seeking help. He and Biggs started work on his armor while Ziggy tackled the experimental one that the Fire Witch had used.
"And if it's not?" Wedge said, questioning the other man's mechanical abilities. MagiBikes were one thing, but MagiTek Armor technology was a different beast altogether. "Do you even have any idea of what you're doing?"
"A vague idea, sir, but if I have to, I'll go the old tried and true method."
"Which is?"
"Bash on it 'til something happens."
Wedge snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Clever fellow," he muttered. This manner of flying by the seats of their pants would get them nowhere. If only some engineers had defected with them or had come up from Figaro. He looked up when a shadow fell over him.
Vicks was leaning over the cockpit seat with an irritated look. For a moment, he even looked as if he were going to start lobbing spanners. "Excuse me, sir," he snarked, "but I don't see you doing anything other than standing around like a pretty sheila giving it out on the street corner."
"I'm not an engineer," Wedge said pointedly, "nor am I a machinist. I'm a soldier, mate." He paused. "I'm not a moll, either."
Vicks snorted before disappearing and banging on something, probably harder than necessary. "Excuses, excuses, sir!" he said. "That's the kind of thing that General Chere would kick you in the balls and laugh in your face over."
How true was that? Wedge would be a rich man living it up in Jidoor if he'd been paid a gil for every time the general had cracked someone's balls for saying 'Not my job, mate.' However, what had applied in the past no longer applied in the present. "She's no longer our superior, Vicks. She doesn't command any power in the Returners."
Biggs once again popped his head over the edge of the cockpit. His smile was lit up like the MagiTek Research Facility at night, which was pretty god damned bright. "I know!" he exclaimed softly before squealing. "Isn't it great?! You know how liberating it was to stare down her huge rack and not worry about repercussions?"
"Wait… You did what?!" Wedge couldn't believe his ears. Vicks must have loved living life in the danger zone. Or perhaps he was some kind of masochist who enjoyed a good punishing. Maybe he had a death wish. "Please tell me that you realize she can still wipe the floor with your arse!"
"A rack like that only comes once every thirty years or so, sir, and is totally worth the punishment!"
"You're crazy."
"No, I'm Biggs, sir."
From across the cavern, Ziggy said, "So, when did the general start playing for the other team?"
"Other team?" Wedge said. "You mean when did she become a Returner?"
"I think Stardust wants to know when she became a lesbian, sir," Biggs said with a twinkle in his eye and the slightest of smirks.
"She practically shouted it down our throats every time some overzealous dickhead decided that he would be the one to 'tame' her," Wedge said.
"Every day during early morning calisthenics, sir!" Biggs said with a tad too much excitement.
"You would have been there with us, mate. How could you not know that?"
The wide-eyed Ziggy nodded with a frown and hesitated a moment before going back to his tangle of wires. "I initially served under General Leo, so I didn't know," he said lamely. "But seeing her practically glued at the hip to Kefka's Fire Witch has been quite an eye opener. What's her name anyway?"
"I dunno," Wedge said. "Is it Tina? Tanya?"
"I only know her as Fire Witch," Vicks said. "Feed her a couple of sandwiches, and I wouldn't mind watching her heat up the Ice Queen!"
His overly animated hand accidentally hit a lever on the control panel, knocking it out place. The MagiTek Armor geared to life with a thick mechanical whirring and a deep reverberating kuh-CHUNK. Before any reaction could commence, a MagiTek fire beam burst from its cannon, exploding the experimental Armor and vaporizing Ziggy in one fell swoop. The machine shuddered to a stop, filling the cavern with deafening silence and crackling fire.
"Ah, nuts!" Biggs said from above.
Wedge could only stare in shock at the burning remains of Ziggy Stardust and destroyed pieces of the Fire Witch's MagiTek Armor. "God dammit, Vicks!" he said with restraint. "We're supposed to be fixing these bloody things, not blowing them to kingdom come! And now we're short an engineer!"
"Our only engineer, sir."
"That's my point!"
"Sorry, sir," Vicks said. "My hand slipped, sir."
"And this is why focusing on tits always made General Chere so angry!"
"You're gay, aren't you?"
Wedge growled in frustration and, ignoring the questions called out to him, started the trek through the caverns back into town. Perhaps King Edgar would be willing to give them a hand before he left for Figaro. Hopefully, Vicks wouldn't accidentally kill him off like a single-serving character as well.
And so, the next morning, the group traveling to Figaro had found themselves, well, traveling to Figaro as travelers traveling to Figaro tend to do. But not by train. At one point in the history of trade between Figaro and Narshe, there had been a railway that ran between the two nations and back again, but it had been primarily a cargo train with not much room or many safe places for passengers. Why no passenger train? Simple. No Figarian would be caught dead in a backwater town like Narshe, and no Narshean dared to ever leave the familiarity of the humdrum of their little backwater town. And, even then, said cargo locomotive was now out of commission for repairs due to damage from fire, meteorites, and an exploding mountain.
Instead, at Edgar's insistence, they chose to go with chocobo steeds, the best mounts in the region that the Figaro taxpayers could afford. Hopes were high that this time around the Narshean killer rabbits wouldn't adorably attack and cutely eat their birds with a snowing of feathers, hailing of flesh, and raining of blood. Nobody wanted fear soiled underwear either.
It would be several days before they reached their destination. This time, Terra made it a point to take in her surroundings as much as she could. The majestic mountains caught her eye as did the brooks and their nonsensical babbling. The fantastic forests stood tall for fantastic things while the green and gilded grasses waved greetings and goodbyes. The beautifully blue sky shoved its clouds aside to let the sun shine on a celestial Celes as she sang her heart out.
At Terra's request to pass the time, the abnormally timid Celes belted out a tune she had referred to as 'Landslide.'[3] It was a hauntingly beautiful Tzen folk song about a woman lamenting the choices she had made in life, musing about her failing relationship (or lack thereof), and questioning her ability to handle the changes associated with such things. All that was missing was someone with a guitar.
Inside her mind, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the group, Terra giggled in excitement and clapped her astral hands. Celes had the singing voice of the angel, but something was off compared to the drunken warbling from the other day. With this song, she sounded almost like a humanoid goat – pitch slightly flat, vibrato galore, unnecessarily breathy. But it fit like the shortcomings had all banded together to create beauty. And Terra couldn't help but feel that the subject material was relevant to her, much like the last song Celes had sung, but she couldn't put her finger on how.
Edgar became misty-eyed with tears and gave his approval with a silent nod. Both Locke and Sabin voiced their approvals as well. Terra's face had turned hot, and that sabotaged her ability to look at anything other than the back of her chocobo's head when the song ended. She wanted to look Celes in her pretty blue eyes and thank her for this precious gift, but…couldn't. Edgar would mercilessly and unendingly tease them. She knew he would! Probably something about the fairer sex needing to get a room or whatever.
Celes later admitted that she only sang when drunk or alone, when her inhibitions were low. Singing sober in front of people made her nervous and prone to mistakes. Discovering this made Terra tense in her saddle. She had asked for a song, and despite being out of her comfort zone, Celes had delivered. This made it an even greater gift than Terra could have imagined. If she hadn't been on a chocobo, she would have collapsed to the ground from weakening knees.
When the group had stopped for a brief lunch and a rest, Terra pulled Celes into a tree-shaded area away from prying eyes and teasing kings. There she hugged her as tightly as she could. She didn't want to let go. She wanted to hold on for all eternity if she could, all because she felt like she was on the verge of drowning in her emotions.
As she clung to Celes, the woods turned hazy, her heart raced against no one, and her breath refused capture. She had felt this before on that night into Narshe. Even alcohol had produced similar effects. But there was something deeper, something farther back in the past that she couldn't grab ahold of, something that continuously slipped through her fingers.
Was this the same feeling Celes had sung about? Was this the same emotion that had prevented her from talking about the 'one that disappeared?' Was this what Locke had lost and warned Terra to protect? Was this love she was feeling? Was this what she had been searching for? Or was this a dream? She wanted to ask the sky, but that was a silly notion. The sky couldn't talk nor would it ever give her the answers she sought.
Terra gently pinned Celes to a tree and planted a kiss on her cheek that soon grew into many, one after another until her lips had gone numb and her breath had depleted to nothing. At the time, she hadn't known what had possessed her to do such a thing, but doing so had opened a set of emotional floodgates, allowing Locke's earlier advice to resurface. Something had to be said.
Celes, who had been standing stiff as a red-faced statue, muttered an excuse to return to camp. This, in turn, prompted Terra to hold her tighter in place. If they were heading into dangerous territory, she didn't have the strength to suffer the same fate that Locke had. She wouldn't be able to continue on with life as Celes had done.
This close to Celes, about to admit the things that she was, made Terra feel like she was swimming in a pool of warm molasses. Her head felt numb, mouth dry, limbs heavy. She collapsed into her and lost herself in those lovely stoic blue eyes. "I want you to know just how much you mean to me," she said, her voice hushed and cracked. She hesitated before cementing the sentiment with a stolen kiss on tightly pressed lips. The thrill of it was addicting, intoxicating, leaving her wanting more. "Though my memories have lost their meaning, there is no one compared to you. Without you, I'd be lost until I died of a broken heart."
The broadsided Celes responded not with words, but a meek grin, the touching of foreheads, and a hug in return. It hadn't been what Terra had wanted, but she accepted it regardless.
When they rejoined the rest of the group, they carried on towards Figaro like nothing had happened. However, there had been one tell, one clue to clue them all if they had bothered to look. Terra had seen it, and it had burst her heart open with joy.
For the rest of the day, Celes' cheeks never lost their blazoning glow nor her lips the small cracks of a smile.
Terra sighed a frustrated sigh and launched the blanket off with an equally frustrated kick. She couldn't sleep because of a build-up of pressure in her head, heart, and belly. It was annoying and wouldn't let her think of anything but the day's events she had shared with Celes. They replayed in her head endlessly on a loop, making her uncomfortable in this hot and stuffy tent.
There didn't seem to be any relief in sight, despite biting her lip and her attempts to rub the frustrations away. On the bright side, all of this thinking and rethinking eventually produced a memory, one from who she used to be and not who she was. It had been a pleasant memory (at least what she could remember), and one that had been similar to the events of today.
Today hadn't been the first time she and Celes had shared a kiss and neither had it been that night going into Narshe. It had been that distant night in the past that felt as if she were watching Celes kiss someone who looked like her. The emotions had been powerful, cutting through the fog like the afternoon sun.
While Terra still didn't understand when or where these feelings had initially come from in the past, she finally understood why Celes had been the only person she remembered. She finally understood why she'd been having conflicting thoughts about her from the very beginning and why they made her hands do things on their own accord when she was alone.
As she gasped for air, she wondered if perhaps she had been that girl in the past that Celes refused to talk about. If only she could be certain about it. If only she had no doubts. If only she knew the answers. If only Celes were here to reassure her. If only Celes were nearby. If only Celes were-
Like a silent, tearful landslide, it all came crashing down. Terra tensed in her bedroll and shivered as it melted away. The rapidly dropping temperature prompted her to cover back up. Despite the ache, she pretended that her hands belonged to another, a special someone who enjoyed touching her in places they shouldn't. She understood her feelings now and happily sighed as she caressed herself into a drowsy relaxation.
Would she have the courage to admit how she felt? Would she be able to say that she was in love? There was only one way to find out.
[1] Upeast, Backwest, and Downunder are the three names given to the two major continents of the world.
Upeast, the easternmost half of the northern continent, houses the Doman ruins, the desolate Veldt plains lands, and the small country town of Mobliz.
Backwest encompasses the civilized western half of the northern continent. The nation of Figaro and its satellites Kohlingen, South Figaro, and Narshe can be found there as well as city-states Jidoor—the theatrical town of uptight assholes, Nikeah—the port town this story forgot, and Zozo—the "city of sunshine."
Downunder contains such shining jewels as Maranda—Crumbling City Under Martial Law, Albrook—Another Crumbling City Also Under Martial Law, Tzen—Former City of Kings (Crumbling Under New Management), and Vector—dank home of the Empire.
There's also a small forgotten town called Thamasa mixed in there somewhere, but rarely does anybody care. If the towns and cities of the world were school children, Thamasa is that brooding kid that always sits in the back of the bus, is largely ignored by the other towns and the bus driver, and is generally chosen last for group games in physical education class. Of course, when one just stands in one spot and lets the dodgeballs hit them, this is not surprising.
Also, people in Thamasa get off on burning buildings to the ground in the middle of the night. Be wary if passing through.
[2] Nobody knows why people from Zozo have the nickname of Whozyers. The joke in Jidoor is that the term is a bastardization of "Who's yer daddy?" – a common greeting in Whozyerian courtship. Why "whozyer daddy?" No one wants to start a new relationship without first ruling out a surprise sibling, even in Zozo where other worse taboos are generally accepted.
[3] A song made famous by a band of minstrels who call themselves the Fleetwood Macs. Terra would find out later that this was the only record that Celes owned besides the entirety of The Dream Oath.
