The Twelfth Chapter - Tears of Ice
Norris rubbed his eyes, frustrated and fatigued. He brushed the snow off of his beard and glanced back at Clarkson, who was reporting all that had transpired in Fanshaw. His team had definitely seen the lion's share of action."And this girl," Miles asked, "she's..."
"-dead," Clarkson finished. "Sherwood took her down with help from Locke."
Miles folded his arms and shook his head. The one-eyed warrior turned to Norris and waited for his commanding officer to say something. The younger soldier towered over Norris and offered a sharp contrast between the two senior officers. While Norris donned simple flowing robes, Miles wore Imperial brown leather and an armory strapped to his sides. Terra found herself comparing the pair to Strago and Cyan.
"Given her betrayal and the possibility of further ambushers, your actions were justified," Norris decided. He frowned and stroked his beard in thought. "What other information do you have on this girl, aside from her name?" Norris asked.
Clarkson cleared his throat. "Nothing, we were pressed for time," he answered with a hint of embarrassment.
"So we have a girl who was lucky to have been left for dead after the invaders finished with her. This child, of whom we know nothing but her name, was healed and saved from what was certain death. Then she snaps and tries to kill the very people that were helping her, coincidentally at the same time an unknown team of soldiers ambushes you ," Norris summarized. He raised an eyebrow. "I was hoping to find answers, not more questions."
Clarkson shifted his feet anxiously. Though it was a casual report, he was still standing under the scrutiny of both his commanders. Locke, Terra, and Sherwood were sitting patiently behind him, equally uncomfortable. The rest of the men were packing up camp and preparing for a trek back through the mountains.
Norris sighed. He leaned back against a bare tree trunk and tried to make sense of the situation.
"They were not expecting Terra," Miles said what Norris had been thinking. "They were not expecting anyone capable of wielding magic, or else they would never have attacked without better odds."
"Terra," Norris looked over at the half-Esper. "How skilled was the man in grey?" It was an important question; he needed to know what they were dealing with.
Terra shrugged. "I don't know."
"You have to have gotten something from him. Was he even close to your abilities?" Norris pressed on. "They might have been a scouting force that took matters in their own hands, or they were black-ops... or even worse."
Terra grumbled. "I'm not sure, I've definitely fought better," she answered vaguely.
"Norris, they couldn't have been just a mere scouting force," Sherwood put in. "They might have been a tiny force but they had a Magitek Knight with them. The grunts were quality too, one overpowered Clarkson in hand-to-hand."
Clarkson cleared his throat.
Norris sighed. He had made up his mind. "Miles," he grumbled.
"Yeah, alright," Miles answered. He already knew what the Colonel was planning and didn't seem to like the idea any better. He strolled off.
Norris turned to Terra. "Please, walk with me. The rest of you stay here," he ordered.
Terra shot a confused look at Locke, but he was staring into space. She got up and followed Norris into the thicket. "What is it, Norris?"
The old Magitek Knight pursed his lips together. "I wanted to thank you personally for what you did back there," he said as they strolled into a quiet spot near the center of camp. Footprints were everywhere as supplies had just been recently packed and moved uphill. "We haven't gotten along very well recently, I've been under a lot of pressure and I doubt you've been under any less." He turned to her and smiled warmly. "You saved two of my best men back there. I've been through a lot with Clarkson and Sherwood. There's a reason why I assigned them to protect you in Albrook."
Terra shifted her feet uncomfortably.
"I don't presume to know why you're here, if the General wouldn't tell me, I don't expect you to either. With your reputation as a Returner, I had been under the impression that you knew as much as I, and volunteered despite of that," Norris sighed deeply. "It's... easy to forget that you're young and a civilian. I don't think I've met anyone with magic that wasn't part of the armed forces, so it's something new for me as well."
"I'm not sure what to say," Terra muttered.
"Don't," Norris turned back the way the came. "Just thank you, for saving the lives of my men."
"You're... welcome," Terra answered. But before she remembered to ask about the strange dark aura, they had already gotten back. Everyone was waiting, even Miles, who had brought another soldier in tow. Terra took her seat again.
"Gossman," Norris addressed the newcomer. "You are in command, Major. Take the group to Gwendolen Ford and wait for us there."
"Yes sir," Gossman replied. "How long before I assume you're dead and take the good news back to Alysworth?" he quipped with a grin on his face.
"Two hours," Norris answered without even a hint of a smile. "Sherwood, I'd like to have a private word with you. As for the rest, you're dismissed."
"What's going on? Norris, I still need to talk to you about something," Terra stood. Everyone was getting up but nothing had been said. She had to ask Norris about what she had felt: that suffocating darkness.
"You can talk to him later, Miles and the Colonel are going to check the dead ambushers," Clarkson replied. He put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her away from the commanding officers. "Something we should have done, but didn't have the time for," he said in a lower voice.
"Won't he need one of us to lead him back?" Terra asked.
Clarkson raised an eyebrow. "This is Colonel Norris Ferdinand."
"I hid our tracks," Terra said with a frown.
"Colonel Norris Ferdinand," Clarkson repeated himself with a smile. He turned his attention to his new commander.
"Clarkson, what happened to your cloak?" Gossman asked.
"I leant it to the dead girl," Clarkson replied. "I'll get another one from Anthony."
Gossman nodded. "Your entire team will need spares," he said. "Those unsightly burns from your little mage encounter are going to give us away. And while you're there, check in with Anthony. Who knows what else the Magitek Knight might have hit you with."
Terra turned away from the soldiers, feeling very out of place. She folded her arms around her stomach and walked through the temporary campgrounds. Her eyes took in the scenery about her; snow crystals twinkling in the sunlight on top of bare branches, icicles that sparkled in a rainbow of colors. The winter landscape would have been quite breathtaking.
But she was thinking of the man in grey that had attacked her. She could still see the look of surprise and terror on his face when she ended their little struggle with her superior strength. Terra licked her lips as she thought about the Magitek Knight. A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered how easily the power had flowed through her. She recalled how she had looked at the first man, his bloodshot eyes wild as he charged through the smoke with his sword held over his head, and willed his blood to boil. It had been so easy.
She wandered deeper into the woods, brushing past the bare bushes and frost-covered trees, and found solace inside the thicket.
Terra closed her eyes, sickened by what she had done. She had fought the urge, blocked out the whispers of power and had persevered. Yet still it had been there: Her birthright. Unimaginable power had rushed to the surface when she was in trouble and tried to overwhelm her reason. How could she keep fighting if it only seduced her when she needed it?
Her eyes snapped open, barely suppressing a yelp of surprise. Clarkson had draped a clean white cloak over her shoulders. "You look worried," he said.
Terra had been so deep in thought she didn't realize anyone else was nearby. "Sorry, I was just thinking."
"Then I'll get out of your way, but I just wanted to thank you for what you did back there. The man was stronger than I had expected and caught me off guard," he laughed sheepishly. "It's practically never happened, but I'm lucky that you were watching over me."
Terra glanced up at Clarkson's face. It was such a kind expression, yet he was thanking her for how callously she had incinerated someone with the power of her mind.
Her silence worried Clarkson. "Listen, I've only known you for a few weeks," he started. "It might just be a bad impression, but I get the feeling you're ashamed of killing back there," Clarkson squeezed her shoulder. "If that's true, don't be. You saved our lives and there's nothing wrong with that."
Terra brushed his arm away. "That's not the problem."
"Good. You have a powerful gift. I'm glad you're with us." Clarkson had misinterpreted her response. "I was also thinking about what you said earlier... about not expecting an apology from Sherwood. It's a little harsh, but I can see why you think that way about him. He's not exactly as friendly as the Colonel."
Terra shifted awkwardly. "It's only been the last week he's been like that. Before that, he was pretty nice to me," she answered, gladly taking the opportunity to ignore her conflicted thoughts.
"You have to understand that's just the way he is," Clarkson explained. His lip curled up in a smile. "It's funny really, how the two of us ended up in the same unit."
"Did you two know each other before?"
Clarkson nodded. "We were neighbours growing up," he answered. "Then his family moved to Tzen after it joined the Empire. Lots of opportunities there to get rich quick, I was jealous that my father never thought of doing it." He sighed deeply and put an arm on Terra's shoulder. "We were the lucky ones though, rebels hit the city real bad and his family was killed. Parents and a younger sister, all gone. I didn't even hear about it, the letters stopped coming one day and that was it."
The Imperial straightened and gestured around them. "I wanted to see the world, so I joined the army. Years later, I'm on a ship heading to Jidoor when he showed up," Clarkson laughed sadly. "We had both changed a lot since our youth, you should be glad that he was nice to you earlier. It's not common."
"So you two have worked together since then?" Terra asked. It explained why they seemed to know what the other was always thinking.
"Not at all! But after ISF was disbanded, the Colonel created a team based in Albrook and we were both chosen. Small world, right?"
Terra shrugged. "I guess."
"He's never been the same though, I miss the days back in Eggleston. Then again, I can't blame him," the smile vanished from his face. "It's hard not to change when you lose everything you care for, and everyone that you ever loved. You can understand that, can't you?"
Terra swallowed. "Of course," she lied.
"Great," Clarkson patted her on the back. "And don't worry; I'll leave some hints with Sherwood to treat you better. He's probably stressed out trying to protect everything he can."
---
Norris pressed his lips together.
Miles was behind him, looking around nervously. In distance were dark clouds, but for now they were in the open under bright sunlight. In addition, they were within sight of the once-formidable walls of Fanshaw. The winter sun shone upon the fields of snow and bright light reflected from the vast plains until they were absorbed by the black walls surrounding the city. They were in the open and he didn't like it.
"Miles, I know her," Norris said quietly.
Miles shrugged, knowing that Norris would not see him. His superior was crouched on the ground, concentrating on the scarred face of Anna. Miles checked that his knives were close at hand. Something did not feel right.
"I think we're in a lot of trouble," Norris continued. The old man stood up quickly, scratching at the thick white beard on his chin.
"So who is she?" Miles asked. He didn't really care. Something else was bothering him. His eyes wandered across the snow, taking note of where its smooth, undisturbed flatness was broken by the chaos of battle. The fight had been there. He could see a myriad of footsteps, telltale signs of struggles on the ground, blood spilled onto the snow, and puddles of now-solid ice where magical flames had burned.
Norris mumbled to himself as he continued to scratch his chin. "Her name is Anna Miriam," he declared.
Miles spun around. "Miriam?" he echoed in surprise.
"Yes, I take it you've heard the name," Norris' eyes wandered across the young girl's facial scars. She had been through a lot, more than any child that young should have been. His heart ached for her even if she had tried to kill his men.
"Even us grunts hear rumours pretty quickly," Miles growled. "The stories of Mistress Miriam, or so she was called in my unit, were pretty popular because they were so outrageous."
Norris nodded unconsciously. He knelt back down and gently closed Anna's eyes. She would be asleep for eternity now. There was no need for them to stay open.
"So this is her daughter or something? I didn't think the rumours were true, but if you're talking about them..." Miles trailed off.
Norris covered Anna's face with the bloodied hood of Clarkson's cloak. "Yes," he answered absently. "The Emperor, despite preaching chastity and morality, had a child out of wedlock."
"Funny that you would know something like that," Miles remarked.
"Secrecy was only second to ensuring their safety and for both, the Emperor asked favours of his best Magitek Knights," Norris answered as he drudged up long buried memories. "I just happen to be one of those."
Miles found himself staring back at Fanshaw and thinking about the abominable scene in the city center. Whatever bothered him had been there as well, but he couldn't put his finger on it.
Norris stood up. "Anna was a strong girl," he said softly. "She took after her mother: intelligent, beautiful, quick to learn and impossible to keep caged up. The Emperor had entrusted the two with a great gift." He turned to Miles. "Anna would never be anywhere without her mother. That means Drummond was here for Miriam's Gift."
"And that's what's so troublesome?" Miles asked half-heartedly.
"That gem box is a magical artifact," Norris grumbled. "I have no idea what's the extent of its powers, but Drummond has some of the most powerful Magitek Knights on his side. It's quite possible they know something about it that we don't," he cursed colourfully. "For every answer found we end up with two more questions. This is starting to piss me off."
Miles looked down at the charred remains of one of the ambushers. It was the first time he had seen a body of their attackers! He bent down and rolled the cadaver onto its back so he could the face of the enemy.
His hands passed through empty air.
Miles' eyes widened. "Forget Miriam's Gift," he growled. "That's not trouble," he said as he realized what was concerning him.
Norris took a deep breath and turned away from the dead girl. "What do you mean?"
"We've been fooled. The bodies Norris," Miles kicked the cadaver at his feet. His foot passed effortlessly through the illusion. "They've been dragged away just like in the city," Miles growled.
Norris scanned the empty area. He swore, angry at himself for being distracted by his memories of the past. "Someone's been here," he said as he continued to look around. No footsteps or any other signs anyone else had been at the site of battle. "The same ones that attacked Fanshaw, if this ritual is any indication," he added.
They hadn't met anyone while following Terra's trail though. Norris had taught the girl how to hide their tracks, but even then there were ways of scrying through the magical trickery. The illusions meant Magitek Knights and that...
They both broke into a run for Gwendolen Ford.
---
Cyan growled and tipped over his king.
"Checkmate," Relm grinned as she mentally let go of the white knight, a soft blue light trailing behind it. The chess piece dropped back to the old board and teetered for a moment before stabilizing. "That makes six in a row," she beamed.
Cyan could feel his ears redden. For the past few days, he had played handicapped, though he didn't tell Relm that. The young girl quickly caught on to his strategies though, and as loss after loss mounted, Cyan had finally decided to hold nothing back.
His black king was still rolling on the board.
"Infuriating," Cyan grumbled. "Perhaps you cheated while my back was turned, I'm sure your magic is up to that task," he faked a sore loser's attitude. Relm had purposely used blue trailing light to show exactly what she was doing with her spells.
Relm frowned. "I won fair and square," she pouted and folded her arms. "Now you promised!"
Cyan sighed. Inwardly, he was impressed with how quickly Relm had grown in the game. She had an analytical mind that seemed to always stay a step ahead of him. It was incredible, and Cyan felt a sense of pride whenever he looked at the blond-haired girl. Owain had been much the same way, far smarter than his age would suggest.
"You promised!" Relm repeated. She had taken his pause as refusal.
Cyan growled again. He stood up and walked over to Paisley, who was lounged in an old wicker chair reading. The young man looked up, an expression of surprise on his face. He had been so intent on his book that he didn't notice Cyan's approach.
"If I could borrow a dagger," Cyan asked.
Paisley narrowed his eyes. "What for?" he asked. The soldier was clearly uncomfortable with the notion of giving Cyan any weapon. The Knight's longsword laid outside, probably covered with a layer of snow now. Both Paisley and Irving had gradually let Cyan visit as long as he wanted, though they never allowed him to stay the night. They had grown comfortable with each other's presence.
"I lost," Cyan answered vaguely.
Paisley frowned. He fidgeted in his seat.
Relm got out of her seat and rushed over to the two men. She grinned mischievously. "I won again, so I get a lock from his ponytail!"
"'tis no ponytail," Cyan grumbled.
Paisley sighed. "Well I'm ignoring enough orders as is. I can't give you a weapon, Cyan. Perhaps the razor blade would be enough?"
Relm frowned. "It won't cut right and the hairs will be all frayed," she complained.
"Sorry kiddo, I just can't do it," Paisley answered. He lifted his book and continued reading.
"Bah! What a fuddy-duddy," Relm yelled. She stormed to the other end of the cottage in frustration, though considering how small the cottage was, the statement was easily lost.
Cyan watched Paisley carefully. The young man had made another mistake today. He was a good actor, good enough that Cyan was almost fooled into complacency. But his initial assessment had been correct.
Paisley was an assassin.
He could act unassuming, and the boyish unbecoming looks made him easy to ignore. But his eyes were too sharp, he moved too quickly at times and there was an air of decisiveness around him. Irving was a mass of muscle and probably a decent warrior, but Paisley was a devious man and the true danger. He planned ahead, trying to deceive Cyan with carefully calculated mannerisms.
Donnach had tried to mislead Cyan as well. He had ignored Paisley and given orders direct to Cyan, as if he didn't trust Paisley enough to explain the rules. It was another dishonest, shrewd, but artful play. Cyan expected no less from an Imperial soldier as elite as Donnach.
Yes, this was a game. Cyan had watched it unfold about him. The disappearance of General Meras aboard her ship the first morning after their pact was struck, the relocation of Relm to this supply depot near the frontlines, the escort that Brigadier Starson had led, their journey from Tzen to the southernmost reaches of a province that bore the same name, even the things he had seen while riding in the Ninth Army. Everything had been carefully calculated.
The question was whether Cyan could figure out what the point of this game was. It was the only important point that he didn't understand, the treacherous Imperials had hidden that very well from him. Their deceitfulness was a skill finely-honed.
But as each day passed, Cyan's plan to rescue Relm and leave this god-forsaken place became clearer in his mind. Soon, very soon, he would be able to act.
Until then.
"Dear one, we shalt make due with the razor," Cyan called out to the pouting girl. He turned his back to Paisley, but only physically. Cyan Garamonde, Knight of Doma, never let his guard down in the presence of Imperials.
---
Terra found herself at the rear of their small group. A few men had ahead of them, to scout the area, while the rest slowly trudged their way through the thick snow with the majority of their equipment. Considering how long they had already spent in the mountains and how long they planned on staying behind enemy lines, the great amount of gear they were carrying was not unexpected. However, with Miles and Norris both gone, as well as the men scouting, Terra found herself trudging with twice the load she was used to.
Not that she was carrying anything truly heavy, but she was definitely slowing down and beginning to feel aches throughout her back. She lifted the pack higher and willed herself to walk a bit faster.
Her eyes wandered across the backs of Sherwood and Locke. The latter was dragging his feet behind Sherwood, staring at the ground and blindly following footsteps in the snow. Locke...
"How are you holding up?"
Terra glanced over at Clarkson. The blond soldier had fallen back and was now in-stride with her. He looked concerned; a frown creased his hooded face. His muscles flexed as he lifted his own pack higher.
"I'm fine," Terra replied. Her eyes returned to the trail, carefully walking past the frozen remains of fallen trees. "Gossman gave me the lightest pack there was."
Clarkson chuckled. "Gossman didn't even want to do that much. He had to swallow his pride quite a bit to ask you to help out. It's not like him to ask a woman for help."
"Why's that?" Terra asked. Anything was better than doting on what had happened in Fanshaw, she thought.
Clarkson lowered his voice. "Gossman has a soft spot for you," he winked. "He's got a daughter back home, so he's been going out of his way to make things easier on you. He normally doesn't bother with carrying the heavier packs, the big shield of his is enough to worry about and he's used to ordering around the grunts. But we're short a few shoulders and thinning out the scouting curtain just wasn't an option."
"He's been making things easier for me?" Terra echoed. This was news to her. Gossman had not exactly been friendly towards her; she barely knew who he was! Only Sherwood and Clarkson had gone to lengths to befriend her, and Sherwood had almost killed her. Clarkson, on the other hand, had been a protective shadow ever since she stepped foot in Albrook.
"Not so loud," Clarkson admonished her. He looked up, but they were quite away from the group and in no danger of Gossman overhearing them. "Yes, he's been busting our balls most of the way here. The Colonel's given standing orders for us to treat you like one of the men, but Gossman's gotten his way unofficially," Clarkson grinned. "Normally that doesn't happen -- the Colonel's word is law -- but it's difficult to treat you like a man when you're obviously not one."
Terra frowned. "Gossman hasn't exactly been kind to me."
Clarkson shook his head. "Like Sherwood, he's better at doing than speaking. Amazing that he found himself a wife, really. Although I think she was the one that chased him down, if Miles can be trusted with his stories," Clarkson laughed lightly.
Terra smiled back. "It seems like you know everyone here," she said.
"Everyone except you and Locke," Clarkson pointed out.
"Well I don't know anything about you either," Terra replied. "You talk about everyone but yourself."
Clarkson scoffed. "Maybe a deal could be made here."
The trail they took curved around a great peak of rock that jutted out of the ground and stretched upwards. The path twisted away and started down a steady decline. Their footing became treacherous and Terra found herself concentrating on her steps rather than the conversation with Clarkson. A bead of sweat ran down her back and she felt somewhat dizzy. Her pack seemed to be getting heavier. Terra wiped her sweat-covered brow.
"Anyhow," Clarkson said. "Do you know what's wrong with your friend? He's been abnormally quiet, ever since the fight."
Hearing those words from Clarkson made Terra realize that something really was wrong with Locke. It wasn't because he was an Imperial soldier, although she admitted that compassion was unexpected. Instead, it confirmed that her feelings were actually substantiated. Terra looked ahead at the shapes of the rest of the group. They had fallen quite far behind because of her fatigue. "Locke," she cried out. When there was no answer, she increased her pace and shouted again: "Locke!"
There was still no answer. Terra grumbled under her breath and forced her legs to move even faster.
"Wait!" Clarkson grabbed her shoulder suddenly and she nearly fell backwards.
"What?" she asked. She shifted her pack to ease the weight on her shoulders.
"Are you hiding our tracks with magic?" Clarkson asked.
Terra nodded, slightly confused by his sudden change of conversation. "Every so often I cast a spell to-"
"Did you just cast one?" Clarkson cut her off.
"No, why?"
"Then why are there no footsteps in front of us?" Clarkson pointed forward.
Terra looked in front of them, now very confused. Her eyes wandered through the peaceful forest, and returned to meet Clarkson's. Something felt... off. Her hands weaved concentric circles in the air as she whispered a spell as quickly as she could.
Clarkson felt a strange tingle that began at his neck and traveled down to his feet. "What was-" he stopped abruptly. "Where did-"
Terra raised her head.
The shapes of their friends were gone.
"-they go..." Clarkson finished. His question trailed off, as the answer was no longer important.
"We've been spelled," Terra explained. She glanced over her shoulder at Clarkson apprehensively. "Some sort of illusion or something, I don't know. But only Norris is a mage and he-"
Clarkson dropped his pack to the ground, the bag smashing into the thick snow with a solid thump. He grabbed her shoulder. "Drop it," he ordered as he drew his sword with the other hand.
Terra let go of her pack. "But I don't sense any-"
Clarkson grabbed her hand and pulled her into the thicket.
---
Gossman's eyes followed the cliff wall until it seemed to stretch into the now-overcast sky, briefly admiring how high it was. The cliff was on their right side, they had followed an old trail that cut quite near the Strachan mountains. Flakes of snow drifted onto his face, another winter storm had made its way past the mountains. Gossman leaned against a nearby tree, pieces of bark splintering apart as he put pressure on his gloved hand.
His sudden pause had stopped the entire group. They waited patiently, most grateful for the rest.
"We should be nearing Gwendolen Ford," Gossman announced. "From what I remember of this place, it's open and visible from the woods around it. I don't want to-"
Locke had almost bumped into Sherwood, still staring dejectedly at the ground while following their footsteps. Sherwood glared at him and Locke mumbled an apology under his breath.
Annoyed at the interruption, Gossman turned to the rear and growled at the two.
Aware of his surroundings again, Locke looked around for Terra. When he didn't see her, his heart skipped a beat. "Where's Terra?" he asked.
Sherwood narrowed his eyes when he realized Locke was right. "Clarkson was just with her, only a couple paces behind us," he stated. He had instinctively dropped his pack and shook his sleeves, ensuring they had not caught in the trigger mechanism of his crossbows.
Gossman felt a tingle down his spine. It was a sense of imminent danger, something that had saved his life many a time even if he didn't understand why it happened.
"Terra?" Locke shouted. His eyes darted from side to side, panic gripping his heart more and more as each second passed.
"Quiet!" Gossman snapped. "Do you want to announce to the entire world where we are?"
Locke ignored him and dropped his pack. He started back the way they came, first walking at a quick pace and then breaking into a run.
Sherwood raised his arm and pointed at Locke. His finger hovered above the trigger at his palm, but he did not fire. While the girl he could understand, the fact that Clarkson had also disappeared was certainly worth investigating. He lowered his arm and watched Locke run off.
Gossman looked up above them again. There had been a strange noise above. It had been the original reason why he had stopped. His eyes scanned the trees above when he finally noticed it.
"Avalanche!" he cried out.
They were all well-trained men, each having plenty of years of experience fighting in the mountains. That one word was more than enough to snap five relaxed men into action, each immediately dropping the heaviest of their gear and charged towards safety. Deep enough into the wood and the trees would block the torrent of snow. They had little other options without their Colonel.
But even as the first flakes of snow drifted onto Sherwood's face, the brown-haired archer stared into the onslaught of rushing snow with little fear. His sharp eyes had caught something within all that white death.
Grey robes. Flowing grey robes.
In a breath, his shortbow was drawn and an arrow from his quiver cocked. He closed his right eye as he aimed. There was no question about it; there was another Magitek Knight. Just like the one that had nearly killed him and Clarkson.
"Sherwood you idiot!" Gossman shouted.
Sherwood barely heard his friend. His concentration was great, but it was the roar of the mountain that made it impossible for him to hear anything. The mass of white snow was making it difficult to get a shot, but he held steady, waiting for that brief window of opportunity.
"Move it Lieutenant!" Gossman screamed his order. His voice seemed to be closer this time.
Sherwood ignored his commanding officer and stared into the face of death patiently. Snow built up on his arms and face, and he blinked rapidly to clear away the flakes that fell into his eyes. He was calm, serene. A white wall was all he saw now. There was no sky, no mountains, nor forest. It was just him... and an aging man in grey robes.
His patience had been rewarded.
He felt something crash into his midsection, something warm and moving fast: Gossman. The trees lurched sickeningly and the ground was suddenly the only thing he could see. He could feel a massive shield, strapped against the Gossman's back, press painfully against his chest.
Far above them, the creator of the avalanche had been foolishly admiring his handiwork. He had stared down the mountain, spellforms fading from his fingertips, while he laughed at all he unleashed. The small dot was impossible to see through the torrents of snow, and fear would grip his heart when he at last saw it. An arrow shot true embedded itself between wide eyes with a solid thunk.
Sherwood let himself smile briefly. Then his world was filled with snow.
---
They came out of the trees and down the hills with skillful agility, cloaked in white just like them. Their movements were quick, precise and filled with confidence despite treacherous footing. Weapons were drawn as they cut through the woods and neared their prey.
Clarkson didn't hold back. His sword drew blood quickly and decisively while his other hand pulled free the throwing knives strapped to his chest. "Terra, stay behind me!" he managed to shout between wide swings.
They were Imperial. Elite soldiers, his eyes noticed the familiar armor but strange embroidered sigils. He didn't recognize anything save their ranks, but it was a mystery that would have to wait. He grunted in effort as he threw a knife, catching another man in the throat.
Terra could feel the rush of power respond to the great darkness that had suddenly surrounded them, whatever had cloaked their presence was there no longer. She held back, still apprehensive. But as Clarkson downed two more men without seeming to affect their odds, she threw out her hands. A blast of fire came from her fingers, devouring a column of frozen trees and catching two unlucky men in its wake.
Clarkson pulled Terra back as an arrow flew by them. He brought his sword around and met another, the clang of metal ringing clearly in the once silent forest. His muscles burned in effort as he won the contest of strength one-handed, driving his opponent's sword into the air and cutting the man's throat with precision.
There were too many of them! At least another dozen were rushing headlong, and archers were hidden somewhere. Another arrow flew by his face, embedding itself into a tree trunk.
"The Sophis!" their screams clarified into words as they neared.
Clarkson stuck out his leg and tripped another, killing him before he hit the ground. Clarkson grabbed Terra again just as another searing blaze left her hands. The side of her face was lit with red and orange light as the spell detonated in the midst of their ambushers, sending them scattering and echoing throughout the countryside.
"Up the cliff! Find something defensible!" he said between gasps. Trees flew by as they ran and twice Clarkson nearly tripped over frozen roots. "Backup will come," he said as a volley of arrows sailed past their fleeting forms.
Terra nodded, concentrating as she took another glance behind them. "There's a Magitek Knight," she discerned as she struggled to keep up with Clarkson. She had felt the telltale signs despite the cold blackness of all the men that chased them. Her heart pounded, not from exertion but with fear. The situation was dire and she knew there would be little choice: she had to morph without her father's restraint.
"Backup will come," Clarkson repeated as they charged past outcroppings of rock. "Just keep blowing up stuff and they'll find us!"
Terra nodded grimly, all too aware that an arrow had just grazed her cheek.
They were faster than their pursuit, driven by desperation and determination. Terra threw up spell after spell, warding away arrows and knocking over trees in hopes of delaying the mass of soldiers behind them. Their blind flight through the countryside led them into the deep wilderness, steadily uphill and in some unknown direction. Clouds churned overhead, but the threat of a blizzard was almost welcome!
Suddenly, dense forest was replaced by a clearing. Clarkson slipped and fell, crashing into the ground and sliding on hidden ice. Terra was right behind him, but just barely maintained her balance.
"A stream?" Clarkson pulled himself back up. The sound of pursuit was still behind them.
"There must be dozens back there!" Terra gasped as she tried to catch her breath. She wiped at the sweat that had been getting into her eyes. "We need to keep moving."
"We'll follow the stream downhill. We weren't far from the Ford and this will definitely get us there," Clarkson pointed along the thin clearing that ran between thick needle coverage. "Gossman will be there..."
"And what if he's not?" Terra asked.
"Then at least we know where we are!" Clarkson growled. "If we keep going, there's no telling where we'll end up. No supplies and lost in the mountainside, that's not the way I plan on dying."
Terra swallowed back her fear. "They're coming closer," she whispered with her eyes closed. "I can feel them... the void..."
"Then which way?" the blond Imperial soldier asked.
Terra's eyes snapped open. She was focused, determined... confident.
"Downhill."
---
"You're safe with me!"
Locke scrambled through the thicket, half-running and half-falling as he made his way through the cursed forest. Needles had managed to find every exposed part of his body, but he tolerated the pain. He could hear himself in the Narshe caverns again, and those words drove him downhill more than gravity did.
"I won't leave you until your memory returns!"
No. Not even if her memory returned. He would not make the same mistake again!
Locke swore as he tripped, the underbrush was deceivingly thick and the deep snow was no benefit. He rolled on the ground, a spray of snow catching him in the face. He spat out ice-water, only dimly realizing that he had lost his cloak and pack.
An explosion in the distance, but Locke knew it wasn't too far away. He turned towards the sound and saw the smoke above the curtain of trees. Smart girl, he thought as he began his sprint anew. He would save her. He would protect her.
He gave her his word.
---
The frozen stream had become a raging river and what ice there had been quickly broke apart. They had run alongside of it, at one point jumping down an icy cliff some thirty men high. Terra's array of spells had made it possible for them to get as far as they had, but she had been tired and Clarkson was no less fatigued.
The river would suddenly grow in width and that had made a shallow crossing possible through the cold waters. A well-trodden path ran through the area, tall river banks making any other crossing a terrible challenge. Gwendolen Ford was a well-known landmark in the region.
It had been a mistake to go there.
Clarkson felt another arrow tear through his arm. He gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. He screamed in effort as he killed again. Blood ran down the sides of his face -- Clarkson was no longer sure if it was his or not -- as he let go of his sword. It was deeply embedded in the man's chest; there was no time to remove it.
Terra gritted her teeth and struggled to cast another spell. Her ragged gasps for air became more desperate; they had been forced steadily back against the same cliff they had dropped down. With a high river bank on one side and raging river on the other, they were boxed in.
Everything was hazy; it felt like she was trying to breathe underwater. She struggled to stop the man charging from atop the river bank, barely setting him on fire before he jumped into their midst. Men were climbing down the cliff! Fire flew from her fingertips and incinerated the closest.
She took a quick glance behind her as she reluctantly drew the dagger Farin had given her. Clarkson was stumbling from one foot to the other, covered in blood, and slowly running out of weapons. His axe was gone, the swords at his side left in the chests of his enemies, his belt of throwing knives empty.
A red sheen invaded the sides of her vision. The power cried out for release; for Righteous Justice!
Terra hesitated.
A sudden blow knocked the air out of her, and then she was doubled over desperately trying to breathe. Brown leather surrounded her. She pointed at them, a spell on the tip of her tongue, when pain tore up her arm and brought her to her knees.
"Peer David, finish off the savage. The Patrician is already displeased by our delay. Peer Daniels, secure the Sophis."
Terra blinked. Her vision was filled with stars and her ears were ringing. The rush of power pounded her head. She struggled to make out the images before her. Why did was it so dark during daytime? The blackness was suffocating.
There was one man, brown against a field of brown leather yelling... was he screaming at her? The sounds did not form words... but... she pushed herself off the ground with all her strength. The pain was excruciating, but something-
Pain exploded throughout her body as a blow to the neck took her to the ground.
---
The world was a blur as Locke dove through the dense underbrush. His eyes flickered to and fro, concentrating on judging distances and avoiding obstacles as he charged through the thicket. It was no longer necessary to look for the tell-tale signs of magical flame; he could hear the sound of battle not far away.
A waterfall was ahead of him; he had gone too far upstream and nearly lost himself in the woods. But luckily, he had stumbled across a dozen trampled paths -- Terra's pursuers -- and gave chase with every fibre in his body. With legs burning from exhaustion, sweat dripping down his face and chest heaving with mouthfuls of air, he caught up with the rearmost elements of the enemy.
Imperial soldiers.
Two died with arrows stuck in the back of their skulls before Locke realized he had pulled out his bow. Instinctively, he dropped into a roll. An arrow sailed over his head as he spun around and let loose his retort, catching his pursuer in the shoulder and dropping the soldier into the deep snow.
He could hear the sounds of battle. He knew it was her; it had to be her!
His lungs felt like they were on fire, but still he charged forward. The trees in the forest, white and pristine, flew by as he ran. The wall of wood that had stretched on for miles suddenly vanished, replaced by thin air and the crash of a waterfall.
Below him, Locke could see Terra immobile -- she couldn't be dead! -- upon the ground. A dozen soldiers had descended the precipice and caught both her and Clarkson from behind. The valiant lone warrior was covered in blood, separated by some dozen paces away from Terra and surrounded by yet another squadron.
"Terra!" Locke screamed.
Adrenaline surged through his veins, the fires within burned for another reason! His bow sang, three arrows away before the first had found its target.
But it was too late. A single man towering over the rest drew a wickedly curved scimitar and with a single swing, took Clarkson's head off.
The tall man with the curved blade ducked under Locke's arrow. "Kill him," he pointed up the waterfall.
His order was unnecessary. A storm of arrows was already flying towards Locke as he dived behind cover. He gritted his teeth in pain as one of the many arrows ripped through his side. His eyes watered in pain.
"And make sure she's unconscious! The Patrician wants her alive!" Locke heard the tall man shout.
Terra... he was talking about Terra. She was still alive! Clarkson was gone, but she was alive.
A storm of memories rushed him. He could see his failures, his pathetic displays and his impotence. His arms shook and his eyes widened. He had failed in Narshe, in Thamasa, aboard the Floating Continent... Tzen, the Wilds, Strachan, and Fanshaw.
Anger gripped him and the decision was made before a question asked.
Locke tore an arrow out of his shoulder. He stood up and without hesitation fired two arrows at once. Two men dropped, arrows between the eyes. His arms worked on their own, his arrows finding the heart or skull each time as he took down the men firing back at him. Ten, eleven... he reached into his empty quiver, swore, and then for his pack.
The pack was gone.
Locke drew his knives and jumped.
Arrows peppered his leather armor and cut his flesh, but he was death incarnate. Locke landed in front of Terra -- spells subconsciously cast -- and charged headlong into the swarm. His knives slaughtered elite soldiers as if they were immobile rookies. He drew blood with each motion, his eyes wild as killed every single man that stood to harm Terra. He was only dimly aware that he was screaming. Parry and slash! Pivot and thrust! Blood splashed against his face and into his eyes as he spun beneath swords, dodged axes, and danced around pikes.
Atonement.
Reason had given way to base instincts. He smelled their fear. He heard them hit the ground. He felt the heat escape their bodies. He watched his knives pierce vital organs. He tasted the metallic spray of lifeblood.
He was the defender of the weak, dealer of righteous justice; the avatar of death. No one would stop him from fulfilling his promise.
And suddenly his knife hit metal, blade upon blade ringing. His off-hand met more resistance and Locke faced the tall man, vision crimson from the blood of his enemies.
He felt, rather than saw, the second curved blade. Locke did not falter as he felt the cold winter air upon his innards.
"Those were my best," the tall soldier sneered. "For a savage, that's impressive."
Blood was running down his chest, Locke could feel it. It was getting cold, terribly so. The world was spinning at an incredible rate now, but he could still make out shapes. There were still dozens of men around her.
Around Terra.
---
"TERRA!"
Terra raised her head. The ringing had stopped, and she vaguely knew that she was in deep trouble. She was cold -- very cold -- and her hands shook as she tried to get off the snowy ground. Her eyes focused and suddenly she found herself staring at...
Locke?
What was Locke doing here? Where was Clarkson? What...
Suddenly her eyes snapped open. Soldiers with weapons drawn, the crimson snow, a huge soldier with a wickedly curved sword sticking into...
"Locke!" she tried to scream, but her throat constricted in pain and she collapsed back into the snow. Her head smashed into something hard. Icy cold water -- melted snow from her own ragged gasps -- helped fight the dizziness. She ignored the protests from her muscles and pushed herself back up.
Just in time to see the tall man let go of a sword sticking through Locke's chest. A horrendous gash ran down the side of the soldier's face, and a dull-black knife stuck out of his shoulder. Blood ran down his leather armor. He gripped his other sword with both hands and held up above his head.
"Peer David," someone in grey -- a Magitek Knight -- was strolling towards the display. Terra could see the man cross the flash-frozen river. Unnumbered men in brown leather trailed behind him. "You are wasting time."
"Die, savage," the soldier named David sneered.
Terra froze as she watched the blade slash across Locke's throat. A spray of crimson blood met the once pure white snow, and Locke collapsed face-first into the ground. David thrust his sword through Locke's back and twisted.
The breath left Terra's throat icy cold. She didn't even feel the man grabbing her hair. Her mind repeated the sight of red spurting lifeblood from his throat, brown eyes rolling into the back of his head, and his collapse into the snow face-first. Then she saw again the blade through his chest. She saw Locke twitch as it cut through his vitals. She saw the blade twist. She saw it twist again, and again.
And again.
The world vanished in a red sheen.
---
Norris Ferdinand broke out of the woods and across the ford. He ran as fast as he could, homing in on the thickest shroud of darkness. The spells that had physically supported him had long since run out, but he arrived at the scene of battle only slightly winded, but quite weary.
He stopped in his tracks.
Upstream, countless men lay in the snow, dead or dying. The snow was more crimson than white, more liquid than solid, but Norris ignored the gruesome scene and instead his arms flung forward. Lone sentries flew into the forest as he charged up the frozen river.
Numbers were against him, but they were all grouped near the waterfall and paid no heed to him. A Magitek Knight, dozens of soldiers and an equal number of corpses. Two of those corpses looked all too familiar, and there was Terra! Norris pulled up his sleeves when he felt something from her: an aura that sent shivers down his spine.
A noiseless scream hit his ears and his vision exploded into stars. He suddenly found himself on one knee, gasping heavily as he struggled to breathe. He forced his head up and saw that the Magitek Knight had also collapsed; the men around him extremely concerned.
"The Sophis!" the Magitek Knight screamed.
Norris' eyes widened at those words.
The men around Terra were already in motion; the closest three had their blades drawn within an arm's length of her. One even held her long blond hair, his face a mask of anger as his fist flew through the air.
It never hit her.
A concussion of energy exploded around her. The shockwave of magic hit the men closest, their flesh searing off in a blinding flash of fire and smoke and blew their still burning skeletons into the air with more force than Norris had ever put into his own spells.
The remaining men charged, their blades pointed at her.
Before they took half a step, the air around Terra thickened and sparkled. Ice rippled through the ground, rising from the snow like peaks of mountains, twice the size of the largest man but sharper than any blade and ringed a deadly circle around Terra. The ice peaks exploded through the ground and formed a protective wall that continued to grow both higher and thicker. Mist exploded around her and shards of ice crashed to the ground. The fog hid the soldiers from sight, but they could still be heard. Above the trembling of the earth were the sounds of men dying; their screams of pain horrendous to the ears.
Then the mist dissipated. Not a single man had escaped, each impaled by the peaks of ice as they shot from the ground. The soldiers were all dead, lying lifelessly upon each translucent pillar of frozen might.
"What the..." Norris whispered.
She rose above the wall of ice, now the height of five men, with an aura of white light surrounding her. Great feathered wings flapped slowly, lifting her lithe form into the air. Purple hair fluttered upwards, answering not to the wind but the magical aura surrounding her.
Behind her, the frozen waterfall shattered.
Deadly red eyes turned their rage on the Magitek Knight and his men, even as they scrambled to safety from the outburst of water. Her lean arm pointed a single finger at them.
Every single soldier, most frozen in absolute terror, was blown backwards into the air. Their flesh departed their skeletal frames in mid-flight and before they hit the fence of trees upon the riverside, everything vaporized into nothingness. The still-frozen river imploded, a spray of deadly ice-shards smashing against Norris's yellow-hued shield.
Only two men were still standing, the Magitek Knight and a tall soldier with blood pouring down his face.
The Magitek Knight threw his hands out and a blast of thunder rippled forth. Blinding, twisting knots of electricity smashed into the white form. The Magitek Knight poured all his power into the spell, bolt after bolt of explosive magical energy ripping into an undefended opponent. Flames erupted and devoured the trees surrounding her, smoke so thick that it obscured the entire waterfall.
The storm of flame and lightning continued for an unholy length of time before the man in grey cried out in pain. He stumbled to the ground, exhausted from his efforts, but still readying another spell.
Red eyes left their gaze from the tall soldier to the crumpled mage. Smoke rose from crisp remains of trees around her thin white form, but not a single scratch could be seen on her. The cliff face had been melted inwards, but her skin was still flawless and smooth. Her hair continued to flutter upwards. Her wings flapped slowly. Her breath was calm and collected.
Retribution.
The Magitek Knight screamed as his body burst into flames. His grey robes melted into his skin and his flesh bubbled into thick black smoke. His scream became a gurgle as the blood within his veins boiled. He fell and hit the ground as little more than a blackened skeleton. Crimson vapor rose from still burning remains.
The last remaining soldier glanced down at his dead friend and then looked back up. He did not notice the bones turning to ash. Instead, he reached into his armor and threw a cluster of five knives. His eyes widened in terror as all five knives stopped in midair, hovering but a breath away from naked, pale white flesh.
A single finger pointed at the cluster of knives and immediately, the blades melted. Their handles were carried away by the river as five globs of liquid metal combined to form a sphere.
"Unholy beast," the scarred soldier whispered.
Red eyes returned to the soldier, their hardened gaze burning deep into his soul.
Metal shot out of the liquid sphere, a single round pole that pierced through the soldier's throat. With a wave of her hand, the pole lifted the man off his feet, his screams of pain only silenced by the difficulty breathing. In the blink of an eye, the soldier found himself staring into the crimson eyes of death. She hovered in front of him, he held up by the shaft through his throat, her by her wings, and smiled.
A ripple traveled through the metal pole and left it a sharpened blade. A final, gut-wrenching scream of pain came before the soldier fell to the ground, his head split in half, and very dead.
---
There was no more darkness anymore. Her eyes looked past the smoking remains, barely worth the effort for her to cleanse, and focused a particular cadaver. The very sight of his corpse hurt her more than her enemies could have ever dreamed.
Terra landed in the snow as her wings vanished. She ran up to the corpse of Locke Cole and magic flooded to her fingers. Her knees hit the crimson snow before she cradled his head in her lap. Yellow light surrounded them, sparkles swirling about in a great magical updraft.
She screamed in anguish. Tears poured down her cheeks even as the draft strengthened, snowflakes joining the tornado that spiralled about her. Dead bodies of their ambushers were lifted into the air as the yellow aura intensified until it was blindingly bright. Snow melted into puddles of water that rippled without wind. Powerful magic, wielded for the most noble of causes, took its toil. But Terra's heart sank as she knew the truth.
She couldn't save him.
It was happening all over again! So what if he was already dead? Who cared if his heart had stopped beating minutes ago? She should have been able bring him back. She had the power!
But it was all slipping away from her. Just like in the chaos of the airship crash: Michals, the Lieutenant that had thanked her for her futile efforts; Davis, the pilot that had saved her life but she could not save him from the inferno's wrath; Marcus, the Captain that had trusted her, whose existence was snuffed out by her incompetence.
The tornado of magic died without ceremony, snow and cadavers stopped moving and fell back to the earth. Water turned to ice, ripples frozen in mid-motion. The yellow aura shimmered and distorted into a sickly green and even that faded away.
And Gau. Pure, innocent, and benevolent Gau.
Terra gritted her teeth in anger and called the red sheen forth, snow and trees vanishing as she fought in a crimson haze. Not again! Never again! The fires within burned with righteousness, seraphic energy at her beck and call! She stood between space and time and bent the laws of the universe to her will.
She could reverse this. The thread to his soul was still there, if only she could just...
Her vision cleared of the red fog against her own will. She cried out in frustration. Why couldn't she do this? Why couldn't she save Locke?
"Because you're afraid."
Terra spun around and found herself staring at an Esper. Its naked white form was wrapped by feathered wings, most angelic of dresses. Her purple hair draped down her back, more royal than any crown. Unnatural red eyes watched her with almost a playful countenance.
"You!" Terra cried out. Her hand pointed at the Esper. "You're the one that's stopping me!"
The Esper shook her head sadly.
"I know it's you!" Terra growled. "You're the one that whispers to me. You sing your song and beg me to take life after life! You're the beast I've fought and restrained! And now; now you're taking your vengeance. You're preventing me from saving Locke's life!" Terra threw herself at the villain, but found that she was frozen. She railed at the white monster instead, screaming curse after curse.
The Esper walked around her slowly, sighing and shaking her head from time to time. When she finally stood in front of Terra once again, Terra lashed out.
"You're the monster inside of me," she snarled.
"I am you."
"The other me!"
"No, I am you. But you won't accept that, will you?"
"Never!" Terra screamed. "Now let go of me!"
"Let yourself go."
Suddenly, Terra could move again. She spun around as the Esper vanished and reappeared behind her. Terra's face was a mask of hatred as she tried again and again to grasp the throat of the Esper, failing each and every single time. She came close once or twice, but always before her fingers closed to choke the life out of her, the Esper would disappear.
The Esper disappeared finally and appeared far away, sitting upon an ancient throne. She leaned back against ageless metal entwined in patters that shimmered with magical energy. Her arms rested upon the heads of two statues, beasts that Terra had never seen. Both were lion like, dark metal contrasted against blue and purple flames that danced from their backs. The Esper did not seem affected by the fire. Instead, she seemed to pity the green-haired woman standing in front of her.
Terra gestured at the monster. Air shimmered and wavered, but broke in a shower of blue sparks before it reached the throne.
"Look at you," the Esper pointed at her. "You hate yourself. You fear yourself. You've even begun talking to me like I'm someone else."
Terra screamed and blasted the Esper with everything she had. Fire, ice and lightning tore into the Esper and the combined magical domains lashed back in a blinding surge of energy. The elements were never meant to be commanded in such a manner and when they protested, the explosion engulfed the ancient throne and everything around it.
And when the miniature sun disappeared, the Esper was left standing unharmed. An elaborate spear rested against her shoulder, its shaft covered by concentric patterns of woven metals.
Terra dropped her arms, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.
"Do you really think this will save him?"
She blinked. Locke... she glared at the Esper. "If I destroy you, I can save him," she said indignantly. "You're just monster that's hiding inside of me!"
"How easy that must be for you to say," the Esper sounded insulted.
Terra paused, confused. "What is that supposed to mean!"
The Esper gestured off to the side. Terra followed the outstretched arm. In the distance, she could make out vague shapes. A man towering over a seated woman, holding something round between his hands as he chuckled obscenely.
Terra gritted her teeth at the recollection of that moment. "How dare you show me that! Do you enjoy tormenting me? Do you enjoy showing me the worse moments of my life?"
The Esper shook her head sadly. "That was not the worst," she stated lifelessly.
"You're insane, I would know what the worst moment of my life is," Terra growled. Anger still flowed through her veins. This beast was stopping her from saving Locke, she knew it with all her heart.
"I'm insane? You're suffering from mental fatigue, you have head trauma and a mighty concussion, and finally, you're conversing with a figment of your imagination. I would say you're the insane one."
"You're not a figment of my imagination. I know exactly what you are. You've tried to seduce me for so long, tried to turn me into a murderous weapon so that you could wreak death and destruction on everything I hold dear! I imprisoned you and-"
"Imprison? You didn't do anything of the sort, child," the Esper gestured once more and somehow, they were back in Narshe. The homely wooden cabin was bathed in the flickering light of a fireplace. Arvis was nearby, and a vision of her past self stared at the old Narshe Returner blankly.
"I can't remember a thing..." a younger Terra whispered dejectedly.
"Don't worry. It will all come back to you," Arvis turned away and carefully set down an ancient crown. "In time, that is."
The shades of the past froze in place and the Esper strolled through the scene. She held her hands out to the fireplace, rubbing them together even though the flames had also been frozen. "But it didn't, did it?" she said with her back to Terra.
Terra strolled through Arvis' home and walked through the image of her past. "I remember enough," she retorted. The anger had steadily faded; she was confused by what was happening and that made holding onto her fury a difficult prospect.
"How convenient that must be," the Esper turned from the fire, a face of compassion. "To forget sixteen years under Imperial rule."
Arvis' small, comfortable dwelling shimmered and undulated. The past disappeared again, replaced by the cold, metallic metal walls of the Imperial Palace. Smooth black stonework stretched upwards towards the darkening sky, meant to protect against an outside threat but...
A small child had dashed to the flawless wall, her hands searching for something to hold onto but finding none. Brown leather chased after the desperate green-haired girl, running her into a corner with ease. She screamed at them, but they paid her complaints little heed and subdued her with batons.
"To forget what it was like to grow up with the Magitek Laboratories as your only home."
Harsh, unnatural white light suddenly shone down upon them. Terra instinctively closed her eyes and recoiled away. Grey metal stretched forth in all directions, and the steady rumbling of machinery echoed throughout the air. Terra heard the steady thumping of boots and turned in their direction, her eyes watering as she saw soldiers manhandling a green-haired child while white-coated men trailed behind.
"To forget the scientists that prodded you and strapped you to their infernal machines every day of your life. Experiment after experiment, never saying anything but instead scrawling onto their damned clipboards."
Even that illusion disappeared, and Terra found herself staring at a teenaged girl now. She was clutching her stomach, doubled over in the mud as rain poured down upon her. Dozens of soldiers stood around her and though blood ran from her mouth, they ignored her pain. Though tears fell to the ground without pause, they ignored her suffering.
They always ignored her.
"To forget how they pressed you, day after day, night after night."
Terra spun towards the Esper. "No!" she screamed. "Not this!"
"Burn this! Burn that!" the Esper growled angrily.
Terra couldn't bear to watch it. She turned her back to the past, but she could still hear it.
A high-pitched scream of monstrous rage, and then the heat! That unholy fire! She could feel the inferno press against her back as the screams began. Hideous cries of pain, men begging for mercy and wailing for their loved ones.
She always ignored them.
The whine of steam ejecting accompanied the rhythmic rumbling of the ground. Terra concentrated on the mud at her feet, doing her best to ignore the scene and failing miserably.
"How easy it was to forget!"
The roar of elemental cannonade drowned out all but one wretched scream of anger. Rainwater splashed against her back and the flooded ground reflected with the light of numerous explosions. Terra closed her eyes in shame, but instead her vision was dominated by the white-skinned Esper.
"To take the opportunity you were given, leave it all behind and find a real childhood," the Esper wiped at her eyes as the sounds of battle steadily faded away. When she looked back up, they were bloodshot eyes that Terra had seen in the mirror thousands of times. "I don't blame you. After all, I did the same."
Terra took a step back, and then another as the Esper's face gained more and more color. Her hair darkened, fading from purple hues to a muted blue. Her skin took on a human complexion, but her eyes... they stayed the same.
Realization struck Terra like a lightning bolt. She stared at the Esper with wide-open eyes.
"Now you understand don't you? Now you understand why even morphed, you couldn't help Gau; why you couldn't save Michals, Davis, or Marcus. After all, how can you heal another when you are so grievously wounded yourself?"
Terra pointed at the Esper. She dreaded to say the words, but she knew they were true. "You... you weren't there," she whispered. "Even when I morphed to help Gau, you weren't there."
The Esper's blood-shot eyes locked with hers. There was no mercy in that cold gaze, only pain. "No," she corrected. "You weren't there."
Terra blinked in confusion. "I can't believe this," her voice was barely audible, but a place between space and time, that was an overlooked detail.
"You don't want to," the Esper growled. Wings spread forth and she gripped the spear at her side. It wavered and shimmered, waves of blue and white light washing over it until the spear was no longer. It was instead a sword, a sword that radiated magic like the sun radiated light.
The blade was warm and inviting. It seemed to call to her. Unlike her power, it was not a seductive song. It called to her because she needed it, but it was always her choice.
Terra remembered Locke. She banished the thought of the sword and steeled herself. "Maduin locked you away," she said to the Esper.
No response.
Terra's glare softened. "I locked you... me... I locked myself away. My father just helped, didn't he?"
The Esper nodded.
"I was always afraid, wasn't I?" Terra turned away from the Esper, she already knew the answer. "Ever since I met Tritoch, ever since I had a glimpse at the depth of my power... I was afraid of what I would become." She spun back around and looked at the Esper with fresh eyes. "I was afraid of what I was. I tried to forget it: my power, my past..."
Terra took a deep breath. "...my feelings. I tried to forget everything so that I could start fresh."
The Esper nodded again.
"I am still afraid," Terra whispered.
The Esper's wings vanished, and her hair turned to its familiar green.
"But," Terra looked down at the body of Locke Cole. His eyes looked up at her, lifeless and dead. "I won't fail again," she said with clenched fists. "No matter the cost, I will do what's necessary."
The vision of her smiled.
Terra smiled back. Everything was vanishing now, her reflection's form slowly fading away as if it had been an illusion all along. But it was no mere dream. It had been real. Terra trembled but would not back down, not now! She might have been still afraid, but at least this time it would be different.
This time, she accepted it.
Cold air greeted her return to reality and Terra Branford, half-Esper, daughter of Maduin and Madonna, stood tall and opened her arms.
The world vanished in a white sheen.
---
The whirlwind shattered, sending shockwaves of snow flying outward with such force it cut through the unfortunate trees in its path. Swirling rainbow-coloured energy hung in the air for a moment longer, and then it faded away. Steam rose around them as ripple after ripple of energy spread across the ground and turned ice to water, and then water to ice.
Tears ran down her cheeks as powerful magic continued to emanate from Terra. Spirals of sparkling light danced around her hands and bathed her in pure white light. Her hair was floating in waves of energy that drifted upwards while four tiny tornadoes -- at most half the height of man -- spun around her and engraved ancient symbols in the snow-covered ground.
A gasp came from Locke, and he coughed terribly as he choked on his own blood. He bolted upright, eyes wide in confusion and fear, as he spat blood. His lungs began to take in air again, his heart beat once more. Locke noticed the woman on his arm, the source of the warmth that had flooded his body.
The glow about Terra faded away. Her purple hair fell back down to her shoulders softly and the tornadoes dissipated.
Norris finally remembered to breathe.
Terra turned to face Norris Ferdinand, the Magitek Knight standing beside them with surprise etched into his wizened face. Blood-red orbs stared into his soul.
The breath caught in Norris' throat.
Terra smiled dangerously and then turned away, satisfied. She collapsed against Locke's chest, wings steadily disappearing as her skin started to take color again and her hair lost its exotic purple shade.
Terra Branford closed her eyes and fell asleep.
