There another chapter out. I'm glad it didn't take as long as last time. This story is winding down to a close. I just want to take this time to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story. This chapter is definitely to you guys so I hope that you enjoy it.
Final Fantasy II: The Rebellion
Firion was silent all the way down the tower. He walked behind the others, his sword held loosely in one hand, the scroll clenched in the fist of the other. Ahead of him Guy had shifted the weight of Minwu onto one shoulder. Maria glanced at the corpse warily, then back at Firion. The blond was eying the ground beneath his feet with great loathing.
"We will have to think of some way to swim ashore to the mainland. Both Mysidia and Altair are within exactly the same distance from here." The Dragoon did not even look back to see if any of them had registered his words before continuing. "It would be best to head to Altair as it is much nearer to Phin."
"What about Minwu?"
Ricard shrugged. "The body will have to be left outside of the Mysidian Tower. We will have enough trouble getting across the water without it." They were near the entrance to the tower. Without another word Ricard quickened his stride, his armor clanking slightly as he turned a sharp corner of a descending stairwell.
Maria looked pale but thoughtful. Guy tightened his grip on Minwu, the white robes flapping a bit as he did so. Neither of them noticed Firion's look of disgust mingled with grief, but they both felt the hard shove as he pushed past them and flew down the last of the steps. He paused in front of the entrance to the tower, blocking it from Ricard's path.
"You say that so nonchalantly one would think that you didn't care that someone had just died in front of you!" he told the older man firmly. "Well I don't know about you but I do care! I care very much, so much that I may very well be sick at the very thought!" He stopped for a moment to catch his breath. "This man was a friend of mine. I may not have known him for more than a few months, but I know that he was a decent, wise, brave man who died for something he believed in. People like him are hard to come by but when I get to know them I'll be damed if they'll be mistreated or forgotten. Or both" Breathing hard, he stole a glance at his friends. Maria was whiter than a ghost. Guy placed one strong hand on her trembling shoulder, his other steadying Minwu.
Ricard looked less than impressed. "This is a war Firion. The unfortunate reality is that people are going to die. Death does not halt for anyone, especially in a time of war."
"But neither should common decency. We will bury him, not out of a necessity but because we care about him and value his sacrifice."
Ricard's face was unreadable. "If that is so then we must bury him. As soon as possible, to delay further than we need to would not be wise."
Firion nodded. "I don't mean to hold us up," he said bitterly, his left hand adjusting his bandanna, the scroll still clasped tightly between white knuckled fingers. "I just couldn't just leave him without something being said or done."
"Neither could I." Firion offered Maria a grateful but tired smile that she hesitatingly returned, her eyes more sorrowful than ever. From beside her, Guy offered Firion a smile of his own. "I'll did the hole."
The four did not stay around for long. After placing rocks over Minwu's freshly dug grave, they stood sheepishly on the spot, unsure what left to do. It was Guy who solved the problem.
"Firion knew you best, not me. Firion is upset so I'll talk." His words came out slowly, as thought he was making sure that his speech was as perfect as it could be. "You were a good man. I liked you. I don't see who would not. You were brave, you were...wise was it?...wise, and a good friend. You did what you believed in. You died for it. That's someone I could respect. So goodbye then."
The rest said their goodbyes before turning to the mainland. Firion was moved beyond words. He chanced a glance at Guy but he was not facing him. A smile formed on his mouth. Guy surprised even him sometimes.
A thousand miles away the sky loomed gray and ominous. The tress in the forest surrounding Phin whipped back and forth as the wind whirled through them, threatening to make a split right from the ground. Stray branches, sticks and leaves whipped throughout the town, where the newly rebuilt homes were showing their endurance by managing not to collapse under what seemed like the worst storm to grace Phin in years if not for all time.
The buildings harbored the towns remaining inhabitants, those who were not in the rebellion at any rate. Anyone whose home had not been finished had run to their neighbors or to the nearest store. The pub owner, who had reopened business as soon as he could, was packed to capacity with panicked civilians.
The panic that ran throughout the town, while more civilized, was no less vanquished in the members of the rebellion as they gathered n Hilda's throne room. Soldiers guarded the entrances to the castle in groups of two, glaring at anyone who came near them. Tempers were running high and Hilda was doing everything she could to dissuade the members from losing their patience lest fights break out.
"Altair is gone!" a young woman from the town cried. "The Emperor's latest weapon has completely demolished it."
"Gatrea is gone too. Phin is the only town within a thousand miles that has nor been completely wiped out!"
"This is unpardonable!"
"Everyone please!" Hilda pleaded, trying her hardest to maintain her calm. "We have to focus here on figuring out a way to stop the Empire before Phin is destroyed next."
"It's impossible, it can't be done."
Not after what has happened to every other town that proved a threat has been wiped out."
"SILENCE"
All voiced ceased at once. Hilda had gotten out of her seat. Her face was very pale but she otherwise seemed as calm and composed as any had ever seen her. From their place off to the side, Paul and Leila exchanged a glance of amusement.
"This is not over. It is far from it as far as I am concerned. Phin is our home, it is the beacon that we have been fighting for almost a year for. The great wild rose that we all cherish and adore. How are we ever to keep it standing with such talk as this?"
Several dozen heads dropped in embarrassment. From her place by her wall, Leila smirked.
"I know it may be difficult but you all must hear me out. We haven't much time to waste before this... Cyclone, gets here. When that time comes we must act fast. It is possible that we be able to gain access to the Emperor's weapon after all, if only for long enough to board it."
"Board it!" The cry spread like wildfire throughout the room.
"Yes board it," Hilda told them. "There is a dragon sleeping up in the upper catacombs of this castle. It was cared for by several of our younger members and in their absence has flown here."
Nobody needed to ask who those members were. Everyone in the rebellion had heard of Firion, Maria and Guy and their accomplishments. They also knew that the three hadn't of been seen for weeks, maybe even months after rushing off on some errand for Hilda.
"Who did you have in mind to board it?" one of the young men asked. "We all are rather fond of living, thank you very much." Several people chuckled nervously.
Leila glared at him. "I'm sure that'll be easy to do when a cyclone is hanging right over your heads destroying everything in it's path."
The young man started to angrily retort when someone let out a yell. Confused, Hilda caught Gordon's expression. He was facing the entrance to the hall. His face had gone very white. Without a word, Hilda turned too. Going as white as Gordon she froze for a moment in astonishment, unable to believe her eyes. Her hand found Gordon's and squeezed it tight.
In the doorway, wet, dirty and bruised, but nonetheless very much alive, stood Firion, Maria and Guy. A fourth man stood apart from them, covered from head to toe in dark armor.
"We've come to help," Firion said. "Before it is too late, what can we do?"
The dragon had no reason to trust any of the humans who approached it, and yet it was strangely cooperative. It seemed to know that bigger dangers than these four were lurking outside the castle walls. Ricard looked almost nostalgic as he climbed aboard the dragon. The dragon was strong enough to carry all four it would seem, and so up it went, into the air and straight towards the cyclone.
...and a cyclone it was. The thing spun fast as they approached, sucking up everything in it's wake. The dragon didn't need to be told to fly towards it, he was pulled towards it almost at once. The whole group were forced into the cyclone before they had a chance to react. The feeling was different then anything that any of them had ever before felt. The sucking feeling, pulling them towards the center of the cyclone, the man-made, or rather, magic-made part of it where the Emperor lurked, controlling it was his devastating powers, was incredible.
"Offf." Firion groaned as he slammed into hard marble. From beside him he heard Maria groan. Guy got to his feet and helped Maria up while Firion shook his head a bit trying to clear it. Ricard was still standing it seemed. Did nothing faze that man?
The same architecture that had been in the Emperor's castle was here of well. The same smooth marble floors, the same glass ceilings; it gave Firion the feeling of being in some grand palace about to meet a king, rather than an enemy lair crawling with monsters and guards.
It didn't take long for a fight to break out. Firion was barely able to get out his sword before a spell whizzed past his ear. The next spell hit him dead on, sending him flying backwards into a marble fixture three feet away, his sword clattering out of his hand. Trying in vain to ignore the pounding in his head from his skull nearly getting crushed in, he crawled towards his weapon.
Maria, Ricard and Guy were much more fortunate. Ricard had leaped out of way of any incoming attacks and was currently holding his own against two soldiers who had targeted him. Maria had taken a fallen opponents shield and was blocking random spells with it. Fire dashed from the tips of her free hand and flew down the hall, warding off future ambushers in the tracks. Guy had his hands full with two soldiers. They had bloodhounds with them it would seem. Very bloodthirsty vicious ones.
Firion cast up his strongest holy spell, hitting one of the soldiers in the arm. Cursing his bad luck, Firion climbed to his feet. Diving past the dueling Ricard, his sword met the others mid-strike. Another holy spell, this one better aimed, was flung out followed by a blinding spell. The man bounded backwards, his sword and shield clattering to the floor, but not before Firion felt a tearing pain sear up in his leg. The dog...he had forgotten about the dog.
"Fire!" Maria cried as she spun in an arc, throwing fireball after fireball at their oncoming opponents. No one seemed to notice Firion being dragged to the ground by a vicious animal as it tried to tear him into shreds. His eyes gleamed as it strengthened its hold on his leg. Firion's head spun as he hit the ground with force, his thoughts clouded over with the pain. His leg being torn off was a very immediate issue and given the look of sadism the bloodhound had, a very definite soon to be reality.
More soldiers were coming from all directions, rapidly crowding in on them. Some burst into flame on contact with Maria's spells while others were stopped in that tracks by Ricard's spear. There were too many. Far, far too many.
Trying to ignore the intensifying pain in his leg, Firion began to chant. He watched as bright light began to form around him and the dog, quickly solidifying. The dog did not let go of it's grip, even when the spell settled over it. Slowly the spell continued to form, spreading to the others. The soldiers slowed in the movements. Weapons lowered and then dropped and soon their owners dropped beside them.
After a few minutes more of this Firion stopped, finally satisfied. Even the dogs, including the one that had been gnawing at his leg, stopped moving. Maria and Guy lay crumbled in a heap, their chests slowing moving up and down. Ricard was sprawled a few feet away from them, his spear beside him.
Firion almost smiled. His head throbbing worse than ever, he sat up, trying to figure out a way to get the sleeping dog to remove itself from his flesh. At least it couldn't do anymore damage while it was asleep. At least not to Firion's knowledge.
Not that Firion's knowledge of bloodthirsty animals was exactly foolproof.
It hadn't been easy, but somehow Firion had managed to free himself from the sleeping dog, wake up his friends without alerting any of their sleeping enemies and put two floors in between them without a single attack. Overall, he thought he ought to be congratulated on his ability to solve what had seemed like a losing dilemma.
Maria, Guy and Ricard were all in relatively good condition. Nothing a cure spell couldn't take care of easily. Firion had to work twice as hard on himself before the swelling of his head went down, and it still hurt. It at least took attention away from the pain of his swollen leg. There wasn't a curing spell in the world that could fully heal him of that injury.
"We should be near the Emperor soon," Ricard replied. The cyclone couldn't be much deeper and this seemed very near to the center.
"I'd say that's a very definite possibility," Maria said, stopping short. "...and I think that those guards with the bloodhounds up ahead would agree with that."
The rest stopped in their tracks as well. Sure enough, a group of guards were stationed up ahead. They hadn't seemed to notice the rebels yet.
Too bad that their canine friends had. Sniffing curiously in their direction, one of the dogs sent a look of pure hunger in the direction of the group. The other one followed suit and it was not long before their human companions noticed their behavior and saw the group approaching.
Ricard wasted no time. Flying into the air, he caught one of the guards in an air attack which the man was unable to parry. Catching on to his example, Maria skipped past all elementals and began discarding Flare spells, hitting any target that came near, including two of the guards and one of the dogs. Guy grabbed two of the enemies in a headlock. The three bounded away from Firion, leaving him to hold the floor as the remaining guard came towards him, the remaining bloodhound at his heels. Why did Firion always get stuck dealing with the dogs?
"Holy!" Pure, white light danced from between his fingertips and flew towards the chest of the armored man. He stepped aside quickly and the spell flew past him and hit the nearest wall, cracking the marble in two. Firion bit his lip in frustration. His sword was in his hand one moment and out of it the next as the dog bounded on top of him, knocking him to the floor. It's master made no effort to interfere and simply sneered at Firion as he tried desperately to keep from getting bitten.
Spell after spell were thrown in an effort to keep the creature at bay. It was no use as Firion's spells bounced off of it's thick skin. He was just about to attempt another sleeping charm when Ricard, having defeated his opponent, decided to assist. Knocking the dog off of Firion before anymore damage could be done, he began engaging the guard controlling it in battle, leaving Firion free to...to do what exactly? Get eaten by a sadistic canine?
Dodging one of Maria's wayward spells, he flew towards his fallen sword, the dog at his heels. He managed to pick it up just as the animal closed it's grip around his ankle. Firion collapsed on top of the hound, his sword driving into it's backside. The animal whimpered in pain but didn't remove it's grip. Firion struggled to get his sword out as wave after wave of pain washed over him. All he could see as he pulled it out was red, then more as he drove the sword back in, intent upon putting both him and the animal out their misery. That done, the beast rolled over onto it's side, gave one final twitch and died. Breathing heavily, Firion got to his feet, wincing as he did so. The battle had been short but fierce. Ricard's armor was dented, Maria's face was smeared with blood, her left hand badly burnt from a spell gone wrong and Guy was sporting two black eyes, a severe gash on the shoulder and several broken bones, including a set of broken ribs.
"We are going to need to rest up before trying to take on anything else," Firion said grimly. "If that is even possible at this rate."
No one answered him. But that probably meant that no one disagreed with him, which worked out just fine in his eyes.
It wasn't the first time Hilda had felt sick to her stomach about the risks they were all taking and it probably wouldn't be the last. She paced the floor of the throne room, deep in thought. Minwu was dead. How painful those words of fact were to her. It wasn't something she had ever wanted to consider, and yet she had known it as soon as she had looked into Firion's weary eyes. Maybe she had known it even before that, back when she realized just how bad things were, that her old friend wasn't going to make it out all right.
Unable to bear the solitude, she slipped out of the chamber. Careful to avoid alerting any of the guards, she made her way out of the castle. What she needed was her garden. The roses were in bloom and they always cheered her up.
She was surprised to find that she wasn't the only person to have sought out that spot. Gordon was already there, his back to her, staring off into the distance at something she couldn't see. Hilda disliked the thought of sneaking up on him. Clearing her through softly, she stepped towards him, trying to suppress a smile at his sudden start at finding he was no longer alone.
Same old jumpy Gordon, she thought with some warmth. She settled down next to him, her skirts fluttering a little from the light breeze.
"It is lovely out here," Hilda breathed, her words soft and clear. Gordon shifted to look at her, his eyes unreadable. "I've always thought so."
"The sky is very clear tonight. You can see every constellation, shining so brightly up there in the darkness."
Gordon was almost smiling as he regarded her. "I don't doubt it. I was never very good at telling any of them apart though."
"I cannot pretend I was ever a expert on constellations myself," Hilda agreed, her voice oddly serene. She almost couldn't believe her own ears. When had she ever been this comfortable talking to Gordon, and about such mundane matters?
"I guess you just have to admire the beauty when you see it," Gordon said slowly. He was regarding her warily, as though she were a caged animal ready to strike.
"Not enough people do." Hilda's expression grew sorrowful. "Some people can only think of destroying. They don't stop and consider the simple beauty that exists out here, the twinkling of the stars, or the sweet smell of the roses. These things hold no beauty for them because their own lives are devoid of personal beauty." She knew she was rambling but she didn't care. "This...this is beauty in it's fullest, most powerful form, these flowers here are the true essence of what life should be about, strong and beautiful and sweet." Her breathing was getting quicker by the moment. She knew that she should behave calmly and diligently, like her position demanded of her, but...
"There is nothing beautiful about war," she said softly, trying to regain her temper lest she lose it completely. "It is a horrible thing fostered out of hatred and corruption, kept going by violence and greed." Her gaze was firm as she stared at Gordon. Getting to her feet, she reached out for one of the roses, careful not to brush up against the thorns. It's petals felt smooth beneath her fingers. For a moment nothing more was said and an awkward silence formed in conversations absence.
"It's unfortunate that we have to fight," Gordon answered, his voice as soft as hers had previously been. "I hate it myself but what can we do?"
"I'll do everything I can to fight," Hilda answered. "I don't do it for the sake of war, I want this war to be over with, but so that a better future is possible and it must be. The idea of constant warfare is a brutality too cruel to occur." She stared up at the sky once more, her expression wistful.
"I hate this fighting just as much as you do." Somehow Gordon had ended up behind her. His hand came to rest on her shoulder. She didn't remove it and taking courage from this, he went on: "I've lost enough, we both have. It will end as long as we don't give up and keep trying our best. Take courage in that."
"Gordon," Hilda smiled, surprise in her face as she turned to face him. "When did you learn so much about being brave..."
Her voice trailed off as she caught his expression. Never had such a look of determination cross his face in all of the years that Hilda had known him. His hand still on her shoulder, he pushed a stray lock of hair away from her befuddled face. "Because I've changed, probably for the better."
There was not another word to say, and frankly, nothing needed to be said. Hilda's breath caught as they locked eyes. Her face leaning towards his, she felt almost like a child again, young and flustered and unsure. Except she was not a child and neither was the young man standing next to her, his lips barely an inch away from hers, his arms holding her tight. As his lips pressed against hers she could almost feel her youth coming back to her, the days before the war, back when her father and Minwu and Scott had still been alive. Days of happiness and roses and sunshine and freedom, childlike innocent abandon and freedom.
The smell of roses lingered in the background as Hilda pulled herself into the kiss, her own arms snaking up around Gordon and pulling him just as close. This is Gordon, she told herself. He's two years younger than you and is barely twenty and is your fiancées younger brother. Was Scott's younger brother.
She smelled of roses and fresh grass...and of being home. His mouth explored her own, his hands tangled in her long golden hair, one hand planted firmly on her shoulder. Her head tilted upwards to meet his own, her mind buzzing with no other thoughts than pure bliss, the thoughts of Scott and the war fast vanishing.
He broke away first, his face flushed. Hilda did not let go of her grip on him, nor did he relinquish his own upon her.
"Hilda?"
"Mmmm." Her eyes flecked up to meet his, bluer than ever. They shone so bright, he could have sworn she had the stars reflected in them.
"I don't pretend to be anything I'm not, but I can tell you what I was. I was a coward and a fool. I never made my own path in life. I wish to do everything I can to change that now. I want to take charge of myself and my life before it is too late."
"Gordon," Hilda told him, her eyes shining more brightly than ever. "You already have."
Pale in the moonlight, but filled with a determination he had rarely known before, Gordon kissed her once again.
"What do we do now?" Maria said. "We can't just rush in there without some idea of a plan."
"If you have an idea than let's use it," Firion told her. "I have no idea, my leg is still throbbing." As he said this, a particularly nasty ache shot up his leg.
"We won't have time for strategy," Ricard informed them. "He already knows that we are here."
As though on cue, the master doors down the hall flew open. The group headed towards them slowly, feeling very much like they were making their way towards the guillotine.
"Come in, come in," a high voice cheerfully greeted them. With no other alternative, they entered the grand hall. It was the most fantastically adorned of them all. Marble and bronze statutes of dragons and sphinxes lined the walls, where ornate paintings and tapestries rich with detail hung. The carpets adorning the floor near the Emperor's throne were lush with color as were the Emperor's clothes themselves.
The man in question sat on a magnificent throne, raised a platform above them. He looked miraculously in character with all of this splendor. His long purple and gold robes gleamed, gold bands sparkled from the fingers of his slim fingers and from his pointed ears. His silver hair was shining and threaded with bright gold. His thin lips formed what he must have thought passed for a wining smile.
"Welcome friends!" His grin widened until it bore a strong resemblance to the Cheshire Cat. "I am honored that you would all come all this way for the trouble of seeing me."
Firion glared at him. From beside him, he could hear Maria muttering spells under her breath, as though trying to prepare herself for a timed battle. Ricard was the first to break the silence.
"There is nothing for us to discuss here. You know why we have come and what we intend to do. Let us get one with this."
"Of course," the Emperor's grin couldn't get any wider. "But first, I have a few friends I'd like you all to meet." He snapped his fingers. At his signal, several ogres appeared out of nowhere, followed by several more soldiers bearing swords and bloodhounds. "Let's see how well you fare against them first."
The entire group braced themselves for battle. It did not take long. As soon as the dogs were loosed on them, the soldiers and ogres followed suit. Firion wasted to time and immediately flung out two sleeping spells at the two nearest dogs. They both hit. Turning to find the next one (he was sure there had been three) he barely managed to step back in time before his head was nearly taken off. His own sword was out in a jiffy, parring attack after attack.
Maria flung out her spells with near lightning speed, her first fire spell hitting one soldier, then an ogre. Ricard joined her, his spear parrying attacks by the soldier while Maria held back the ogre with her Flare. Elementals weren't enough for this tough crowd, it would seem.
Guy held his own against the other ogre. Blow after blow he took, but not without giving them back in full. He was smaller than the ogre but he did let that get in the way as he fought with sheer determination and strength.
Firion somehow managed to cut down the soldier fighting him just in time to avoid being mauled to death for the third time by a bloodthirsty hound. He put the dog to sleep like the others to get it out of the way before joining Maria in her battle with the ogre. Spell after spell hit into it's tough skin without leaving a mark. The two doubled their efforts with Firion casting Hold and Sleep spells while Maria cast Flare spell after Flare spell. At last they managed to subdue it just in time for Ricard and Guy to finish off the other one. It was just the Emperor now.
"Well," he drawled, his eyes gleaming. "That was most impressive. Her Majesty certainly knows how to pick her soldiers of war, doesn't she?" He got up from his seat slowly, his robes fluttering around his trim form. "She knows the tricks, that lovely Lady Hilda. That is just as well for I have a few of my own."
No one spoke. Their weapons were out and ready though not for what happened next.
There was a soft swoosh and a ripple through the air. Emperor Mateus vanished into the breeze, his fluttering robes the last they saw of him. Silence reigned for a moment before Ricard intervened. "Show yourself."
"But of course," came a cold voice from behind him. A blast of magic sent Ricard flying backwards as Emperor Mateus materialized out of thin air. A staff in his hand, he made a sweeping motion. Rain lashed out and sent Maria and Guy crashing into another wall. Maria got to her feet, and headed over to where Ricard lay. Emperor Mateus ignored her. His cold eyes were fixed on Firion.
Firion cast a quick wall in an attempt to divide them but not quick enough. Emperor Mateus blasted through it easily. Firion held his ground as his own magic was thrown back in his face, his teeth gritted. Guy had gotten to his own feet and had joined him.
"I've heard interesting things about you," the Emperor told Firion. His eyes gleamed more fiercely than ever. "You are a favorite both of Princess Hilda and the White Mage Minwu. What, pray tell, ever became of him?"
Firion's eyes flashed with anger. He did not know what he was going to do until it occurred. White bands of magic formed around his fingers and then his hands and wrists. His entire hand was soon covered in pure white mist, quickly intensifying and spreading. Looking the Emperor straight in his cool eyes and smug face, he answered coolly: "He is unable to be here, but here is a message from him." The light burst forth with astonishing power that knocked Firion off his feet. The Emperor caught himself before he could hit the ground, his robes aflutter. He was no longer smiling.
"Insolent children," he said, "If you insist upon meddling, than have your just reward." He vanished in another flutter of robes. Maria and Guy ran to Firion's side and pulled him up just in time for a flash of lightning to erupt. Striking the marble tile where Firion had been kneeling only a moment earlier, it cracked slightly, leaving the ground looking unsafe.
Firion had his sword out as the Emperor next appeared at his shoulder. Ricard knocked his next spell off of his shield while Maria readied a Flare spell. It missed him by mere inches as he vanished once more, laughing as he did so. Guy, Maria and Ricard all turned in a different direction, trying to keep a look out for when he did return.
Firion began chanting. From beside him, he could hear Maria breathing harshly. The next spell appeared before he did, hitting Ricard dead on. The dragoon fell to his knees as Guy and Maria both turned to face the enemy. Maria's next spell hit him squarely on the jaw as he appeared. Hissing in pain, his next spell made contact with her instead. Sinking to her knees in obvious pain, Firion quit his chanting for a minute and cast a protective barrier, successfully blocking two more spells from making contact.
"Cure," Firion said quietly, the spell traveling from his body to Ricard and then to Maria. Temporarily restored, the two got to their feet. The barrier broke forth in a shower of white and gold sparks. Several new spells flew towards them, one of them whizzing just past Firion's left ear. He dove aside and, neglecting his sword and everything else, began chanting once more.
Guy cottoned on to what Firion was trying to do quickly. Grabbing a shield off of one of the fallen soldiers, he began to circle in front of Firion, deflecting spells off of him. Maria cast spell after spell as Ricard leaped through the air, trying every attempt he could get at an aerial attack.
Spell after spell rained down upon them as the Emperor kept redirecting course. He vanished and reappeared so suddenly that none had time to fully guess at his next intention until an attack was already upon them.
The Flare spells and spear attacks wore him down slightly, or at least Firion dearly hoped so. He was moving fast, chanting as he moved and trying to make sure that no one fell in battle. Guy was a tremendous help, covering him from the brunt of the attacks. At last Firion felt content with his spell.
"ULTIMA!" he had never sounded so urgent in his life but then it had never been of such importance. The spell crashed into the Emperor with a magnificent impact, sending him sprawling backwards, white light slamming into him on every side.
He was still able to get to his feet but he was weak. The spell had taken a toll on him. The next spell did even more damage. Maria flung out spells one after another while Guy and Ricard physically attacked. At last Firion finished up with one more impressive Ultima spell. The Emperor sunk to the floor defeated.
"This is not the end of me," he whispered, his eyes glinting malevolently. "It is far from it." He collapsed in a heap a few feet from the exhausted warriors. Not a one of them stirred, afraid to touch him, afraid to dream lest it not be all over. It must be though. The nightmare was over...at least for now.
End of Chapter
