Chapter 14: The Sword and the Stone
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Darkness. It's all that surrounded me. Time didn't exist. I couldn't see. Couldn't feel. I couldn't even hear my own heartbeat, if I had one. Why I was in this darkness was beyond my comprehension, for my only thoughts were of her.
Every moment I thought of her. That last prick in the endless stream of time was what I'd live over and over. A burst of light, the parting of a cloud, whispered words, and a failed embrace. The light grew and I fell through; then, nothing. No feelings, sounds, tastes, sights; I was a dream without a dreamer, a lost remembrance of a long-dead civilization. I was nothing, for I had come from nothing, and had returned to my nonexistence.
"So this is what I get for saving the world?" I remember asking the void that after my millionth or so time of reliving my last few moments in Spira again, hearing her words. I remember screaming those words to her as I fell, but I had already lost my voice.
Every 'living' moment in that hell was another nail being driven into my heart. I felt no longer, but my emotions tormented me to no end. My mental anguish was my pain. My memories were my sight. My hearing consisted of only three words, and yet, I felt more inside than I had ever in my 'life'.
The more I wandered in the darkness, the more it effected me. My hope of a new birth began to slip away, my hostility towards circumstance grew, and I began to loathe. My hatred began to consume my thoughts, my memories. Instead of remembering her words, her face, her touch, her lips, I remembered being robbed of her, and my happiness.
I'd form faceless enemies with my mind and hack away with an invisible sword. My anger trained me and numbed me. The pain was too great, and I buckled. Yet and still, I longed for her. Her sapphire and jade eyes haunted my own. Her angelic voice hung in my ears. Her lips still lingered on my own after so long. Despite myself, I could not forget her. Nor would I ever forget her. My love for her kept me human while I trained my mind with countless battles, fighting foe after foe, aware of nothing else.
I could not imagine the darkness surrounding me and within me as being the Farplane. Was I ever truly alive? I refused to believe this was how I was to spend the rest of my eternal life, if what I had was even 'life'. Was there a way back? Even though I still had an inclining of hope, I had my doubts. And the doubts made me feel guilty.
I vaguely remember a voice coming to me. It was monotone and hard to understand, and the only real phrase I could make out was "Hold out your hands." And I did. It wasn't voluntary, really, but more of a reflex. In my right hand, cloth covered cylinder was placed. "This is your sword," the voice simply explained. In the left, a spherical object was placed. The voice again, explained, "This is your stone." Confused, I tried to speak, but found that I couldn't, which wasn't much of a surprise.
I remember being pushed forward slowly, towards, at least it seemed at the time, a small circle of light. I could make no detail of the light, but could tell that it was there. It was as if I was looking at the sun through the back of my eyelids. As I grew nearer, I felt my thoughts switch back to her. And for once, I could feel myself trying to smile.
Faster and faster I felt myself move, the light growing larger and larger all the while. My thoughts circulated, good to bad and back again. I was starting to become "aware" of myself. I felt...weight from the objects in my hands. A pressure started to close in as the light grew to surround me. At the moment I felt myself implode, it stopped, and I could open my eyes.
As my eyes adjusted to the light, I began to start to truly feel again. Millions of tiny little needles seemed to prod my skin as I made the first few wobbly steps. The sounds faded in, as if long-held hands unfurled their grip from my ears. Smells that were alien to me started to fill my nostrils. Moist air started to fill my lungs. The darkness that was previously around me faded slowly away, whilst a barrage of colors and distorted light begin to fill my eyes. I blinked a few times and the image focused, revealing recognizable images of grass, trees, and flowers. It was wonderful to see again.
I held the glowing stone tightly as I looked around. In the distance was Luca, while around me there was only grass and a few trees. I couldn't help but pinch myself. And I felt pain. For this split second, pain was my savior, for what I had left was a world beyond pain. And I was alive. I could feel my beating heart within my chest. I could hear almost every single pat of rain against the blades of grass. I could smell and breathe in the moisture in the air. And I could see. After so long in darkness, I could see.
I looked myself over, making sure I was -all- there. As I had thought (due to the cold rain drops hammering against my skin) I was naked, save for the sword in my hand. The blade was thick, and I knew it was heavy, but somehow, I was able to carry it without much trouble.
Seeing as I couldn't stay in the field and I couldn't run very well due to my bare feet, I decided to walk in Luca's general direction. I imagined what a sight I'd be, waltzing into the city nude. But, honestly, I didn't care. If anyone got in my way, they wouldn't enjoy the consequences. I had one goal, and one goal alone: -her-.
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The lone private was about a mile outside of Luca when he came upon the two Yevonite guards. Due to his desperation, he didn't even see them. He simply bolted through them. Unfortunately for him, he tripped and stumbled a few feet behind them, disorienting him even more so as he rolled to a stop.
The Yevonites slowly walked toward him, rifles raised, completely unaware of the private's spared life and messenger status. Grinning, the two men fired.
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I walked along the dirt path I had come upon, my arms wrapped around my own chest for warmth. The scenery hadn't changed much, but I had to remind myself that I didn't know what I was in store for. Time was an idea I'd have to get used to again. To tell the honest truth, I had fears that everyone I had known was dead. I didn't know how long I had been gone and there was really no way to tell until I met a familiar face. Or asked questions.
Luca's skyline was growing closer and closer with each step and I found myself in no mood to stop. I was determined, even if I had my doubts. Fate hadn't been kind to me, so why should I think any different?
But I had to think differently. I had come back, strange as it was. A life without her wouldn't be worth living, however...
With a shake of my head and the squinting of my eyes I pushed onward, cold, confused, and ready to find some sort of clothing. My eyes focused on my feet as I walked, not particularly interested in the old sight in front of me. The cold mud sucked my feet down and left prints among the others. Funny, the tracks I was walking through seemed fresh. Generally, people stay indoors when it rains...
The footprints stopped short at the foot of something I hadn't expected to come across. I knelt, stuck my sword into the ground, and looked the Crusader's body over, knowing the soldier was long gone. The smell of urine and feces emanated from the corpse and I could see two bullet holes in his chest.
I tried to stop myself, but it was more of a reflex than voluntary action. With a grunt, I pulled the boots off, noting that they were two sizes two big. After pushing them to the side, and wincing, I slowly removed the trousers. The smell nearly made me lose whatever was in my stomach. My nose involuntarily shut itself off as I slipped on the soiled trousers and inched on the large boots. Once I had double-knotted the shoelaces, I slipped the soldier's over-shirt off and tried it on. The soldier's shoulders were broader, but I fixed that by tucking the shirt's tail in.
Either my drive to get my goal accomplished or my need for clothing allowed me to ignore the stench and the drying blood now sticking to my skin. I tried to convince myself that waltzing into Luca like this was better than going naked. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I'd have been better off naked.
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"I hope Lady Yuna will be pleased..."
Weston laughed. "Well, let's see...First, you leave without telling her. Then make a deal with her uncle-"
"That you incited."
"Noted. But it's all on you, my friend. I was just following." Weston laughed, punching Gatta lightly in the arm.
"Yeah, yeah."
"S'not like she'll need to know."
Gatta blinked. "Well, wouldn't -you- be curious if Al Bhed transport ships started arriving on -your- island?"
"I suppose. But as long as they're helping us, what does it matter?"
"Gah, you're impossible."
"That's what my teachers told me."
Gatta smirked. "I could see you not being one for discipline. But if you were a soldier following orders...how did you survive?"
Weston shrugged. "It came easier in the Army I guess. Unlike my teachers, the Army provided me with a home, food, clothing, and a wage. The only thing my teachers gave me was a headache."
"But you seem well educated."
"Yeah, I paid attention and did my work, it's just the whole 'I'm better than you' thing. They didn't have the power to cut off my amenities, but the guys yelling at me in the Army -did-. You tend to want to follow orders given to you by someone who can take your meal away. It only took two missed mess-hall visits to straighten me up." Weston laughed, adding, "I'm a food fan."
"You certainly eat like one. I don't know how you maintain your girlish figure."
Weston cocked a brow and flopped his wrist limply, slurring his words and raising his voice's pitch, "Well, wouldn't -you- like to know, big boy?"
Gatta rolled his eyes. "Yuna's not one to get mad, but don't say anything. Let me tell her. Who knows, she might be overjoyed to hear the news."
"Right."
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With Luca only a few paces away, the rain slowly began to ease its barrage and a mist was beginning to rise from the ground. My sword was hooked into a back brace that had formally been the soldier's. Every step caused the sword to swing and slap against my back, which wouldn't have been as annoying had it been sheathed. I prayed I wouldn't have to use it, for after so long drowning in my own resentment...there was no telling what I'd do to any opposition.
I let out a sigh and closed my eyes, trying to shake away any thoughts that might inhibit my actions. Step by step, the entrance to Luca's residential district came into view.
At first, I had a hard time making out the two men, since their white robes blended easily against Luca's white stone. Cautiously, I waved, which seemed to get their attention. They began to run towards me as I began to walk towards them.
And then, I stopped, blinking, as they seemed to be shouting at me. Confused, I turned around, trying to see if anyone had come up behind me. Oddly enough, no one had and I turned back around to see the two men even closer than before. Then, I noticed the machina.
With a grunt, I leaped into the air, surprised by my own agile movements. Thankfully, my time spent alone had not been for naught. I had seemingly acquired some skill from my time in hell.
It only took a few seconds for my boots to land on the men's heads, pushing down on their spinal columns and then forward for my own momentum. I flipped and rotated before my feet hit the ground and my sword was already drawn. The men hadn't even turned around yet and in their confusion, fired the machina off. Only then did they turn.
Swiftly, I strafe-jumped to the side and landed a slash into one of the machina, wrenching it from the man's hands. Using the sword's handle as an anchor, I spun around, my rigid legs bringing the men down. My foot came down upon the machina and I pulled the sword from the weapon's wooden frame.
As I rolled off to the left, raising my sword in defense, I heard the first shot head my way. With a clang, the metal projectile reflected off of my sword and off into the distance, hopefully hitting dirt. Quickly, I lunged forward at the man still holding a machina weapon while sweeping my leg towards the other. I failed to hit the shooter, but managed to knock his accomplice off of his feet, giving me a slight upper hand.
With me so close to him, the gunman couldn't fire his machina, but he did make a few swipes at me before I finally felt my sword graze flesh. The man howled and dropped the machina, which I promptly kicked to the side. With a couple more slashes, the man's white robe had grown red and he fell backwards.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the remaining man crawling towards his gashed machina weapon. I pounced, fingernails digging into his back. With an audible shunk, my sword connected and dug into the ground below before I pulled it up, returning it to my back brace. I knelt by the injured man, clearing my throat a few times before trying to speak for the first time in no telling how long.
"Why did you attack me?" My voice cracked at first, but smoothed out by the last vowel.
The man let out a whispered, "Crusader filth..."
I looked my clothing over and noted that maybe having a Crusader uniform on wasn't such a good idea. I pressed further, "And who are you?"
"A proud...Yevonite..."
I stood, blinking. Yevonite? I thought. What the hell's happened while I was gone? I hunched my shoulders and moved toward the entrance, my head filling with questions at every step.
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Eimour sighed as she once again made her way to the local store. The streets were relatively empty, but the Yevonites' patrols had been strengthened to four men a patrol, and two patrols per street. The walk to the store thusly, didn't feel safer, but felt more dangerous, since she surely didn't trust the men that had barged into the inn and killed its owner and receptionist.
She cautiously stayed in the middle of the street, keeping off of the soldier filled sidewalks. They eyed her as she eyed them. A few soldiers even moved towards her, but then backed off, obviously a scare tactic.
Finally, Eimour opened the shop's door and stepped inside, sighing in relief. The shopkeeper smiled.
"Surviving the trip here again?"
Eimour nodded. "Yeah, but it looked like there were more soldiers out on the streets today."
"Yeah, they beefed up security because of the incident earlier today in the gate-side residential area."
"What incident?"
"You didn't hear?"
Eimour shook her head. "Not a word."
"Surprising. News travels fast..."
She laughed. "I don't get out much."
He nodded with a smile, but then lost it. "Well, since you haven't heard, I'll fill ya in. Early this morning, around three I believe, a force of about four hundred Crusaders entered the city. Some claim they wanted to take over Luca themselves. Most, though, know that they were here to liberate us. Unfortunately, they left their Chocobos exposed as they marched towards the residential area and our Yevonite friends were waiting for them. Even set up a trap..." The old man sighed and then continued. "The force was massacred. Only a few Yevonites were lost. Rumor also has it that Gatta's right hand man was slaughtered in the massacre too...but no word from any officials, yet..."
Eimour's head dropped, saddened by the waste of life and the failed liberation.
The old man was sullen himself for a moment, head hung, seeming to be offering prayers for those lost. After a few moments, his disposition lightened and he said, as if starting over the conversation, "What can I get ya?"
She laughed. "A job, a new home, a new life...but I suppose the normal groceries will do."
"A -job-, eh? The job at the stadium open back up?"
"Someone contacted me, saying that my job was still there, but instead of concessions, I'd be working in the newly converted locker rooms, serving a bunch of restless and touchy-feely soldiers... Not my idea of a job."
The old man nodded as he set a couple of loaves of bread into a basket. "I don't know about the home or life thing, but I know I can get you a job. The only problem is...you'd still be serving those surly soldiers, but you'd be getting paid decently, and you'd have protection from any of the 'touchy-feely' types."
"That's...tempting...but do soldiers come in your store a lot?"
He laughed. "No, the job is at my brother's pub."
"The one next to my inn?"
He nodded. "That's the one. I'd have to speak with him first, but I'm sure you can start as soon as possible. I'll set up a meeting for this afternoon. Oh, has the rain stopped?"
"Yeah. Lots of clouds though. I think it might be threatening to return soon."
"Well, since the pub's right next door, you shouldn't have a problem staying dry, if it were to rain again."
She smiled and nodded, handing him most of her money. This time, his charity wasn't as giving, and he gave her half of it back.
"You know, dear, that I'm not going to take that hunk of change. The Gil has inflated and for you, that's dangerous. Here are your groceries. Tell that youngster of yours to look in the second basket, near the bottom. I've got him something special in there."
She graciously thanked him and nodded, leaving the store. The trip back to the inn was a bit chipper for Eimour, and upon entering her apartment, began searching for the present left by the old man for Gary.
She smiled when she saw a large chocolate bar sitting at the bottom of one of the baskets. Gary came waddling over from the window.
"Groceries, mommy?"
"Yes, hon. And here's something just for you."
She handed him the bar and he tore into it hungrily. She had to admit; chocolate had odd effects of people, especially Gary. He had had his first taste a couple of years ago, and has since begged her for it every time she went to the store. She couldn't always afford it, but tried to get it every time she could.
With a sigh, Eimour crossed over to the window, letting Gary follow her, chocolate now covering his mouth. She looked out of the window, looking down below, watching the soldiers and inhabitants dodge each other. She wondered where Luca's future was heading, and how the incident earlier had affected it. If the pub job played out, she'd be secure, at least, for a little while. Of course, had it not been for the old man, she wouldn't even have the possibility of the pub job.
She owed the old man so much, yet she knew nothing that she could do to repay him. A few tears escaped her eyes and after a little while, Gary crawled into her lap. She sat at the edge of the window, son in her lap, waiting for afternoon to come.
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Gatta blinked, looking towards Weston. "No, I don't think we should leave her out of the loop. I mean, Cid's her uncle, Weston. It's not like we could hide it forever. Besides, what in the world do you think she's going to suspect when Al Bhed transport ships start mysteriously arriving in Besaid?"
Weston shrugged. "Jeez, it was just a thought. A lot less trouble if we keep this strictly a military affair. Then again...there's the fact that we couldn't hide it that long."
"Rikku would mouth-off about it to her despite any measures we would take."
"So we'll let Rikku tell her, then?"
"No. I'm in charge of the Crusaders, and I report directly to Yuna. I don't need a middleman...err...woman."
Weston nodded and walked over to a window. "Besaid's in view."
"We'll be there in a matter of minutes. Now remember, let me do the talking. No mention of the clash with the Yevonites."
"I thought we weren't keeping anything from her."
"I don't want her worried this early in the deal."
Weston nodded. "Yeah. So, we stick to the 'contract' story?"
"Mmhmm."
"And if she asks why we're dirty, why I'm carrying two Al Bhed weapons, or why we're bringing in a few boxes?"
"We're dirty because we were caught in a windstorm, you're carrying those weapons because I gave them to you, and those boxes are a part of the deal."
Weston nodded, satisfied.
After a few moments of silence, the airship shook and then settled down with a thud, shaking the two men in the cargo hold. Slowly, the bay doors opened, bathing them in sunlight. Weston squinted, raising an arm up to block out the sun.
"Jeez..."
Gatta laughed. "Hey, at least it isn't dust."
"True. So, are we heading directly to the chopping block or would you like to prepare your obituary first?"
Gatta snorted and walked up to the cockpit. A moment later, the airship's engines died and Gatta emerged, nodding to Weston.
"The pilot is staying here for the moment. After we speak to Lady Yuna, I'm going to get some men to take these supplies to the barracks."
Weston nodded. "And where do I go after the rendezvous?"
"Where ever you want to."
"Alright."
With that, Gatta made his way down to the cargo hold and then began walking out into the sunny field. Weston followed, and when his feet met grass, he saw that the airship had landed a mere twelve or so meters from the village.
Weston wasn't too worried about how Yuna would react, knowing the girl to be a bit reserved, if not passive. But he suspected that demeanor was the product of a couple of years in the spotlight. He knew what it was like to always be looked upon. A week after his parents' murder, his face was all over the media. Newspapers, magazines, television news channels; they all wanted to hear the story of the boy who had survived three days in a forest with a crazed serial killer on his trail. Every sickening detail that was available was made public and Weston had to bear the onslaught of reporters and television hosts begging the question "How?"
"Hey, you ok?"
Weston shook his head, looking left and right, not aware of his previous dream-state.
"You ok?" Gatta blinked as he spoke, obviously confused.
"Yeah. Sorry. Dazed out."
"Well, ok. But try to do it outside of the main path, ok?"
Weston looked around and noticed a few pairs of eyes trained his way. He smiled and then hurriedly headed towards the temple, cheeks burning a little at the embarrassment.
Upon entering the temple, Gatta stopped, causing Weston to do so as well.
"Lady Yuna?" Gatta called aloud.
"Don't tell me she's still asleep," muttered Weston.
"Lady Yuna?" Gatta repeated. "May we have a word with you?"
Finally, Yuna emerged, eyes baggy, hair tousled, her clothing wrinkled.
With a yawn, she said, "Yes?"
Gatta half-bowed, "Milady, I'm here to report that the Al Bhed have joined the Crusaders in your fight against Nyka."
Weston rolled his head, popping a few vertebrae, watching Yuna as she digested Gatta's sentence. Finally, the former Summoner nodded, turning her back towards the two men as she went back into her room.
Gatta turned to Weston, "She seems uninterested."
Weston shrugged, "Like I said, she really doesn't need to know and obviously doesn't care."
"I do care, Weston, contrary to popular belief." Yuna emerged once more, a glass of water in her hand. "And Gatta, never call this 'my' fight. If I had my way this would end now. But Nyka insists on giving peace-loving people grief."
"Yes, milady," Gatta replied.
"What's this with the Al Bhed? And why did you leave without telling me anything?"
"We're terribly sorry, but we didn't want to disturb you. I was told you were asleep when I came."
"Please wake me next time."
"Yes, milady."
"Continue with your explanation."
"Yes. After many hours of deliberation, I came to the decision that allying with the Al Bhed would be beneficial to our cause due to their expertise in machina production.
"So you've gotten Cid's support?"
"Yes, milady."
"But what does this 'deal' entail, exactly?"
"Well, it includes weaponry and troop support-"
Weston stepped forward, coming close to Yuna. "Here's the deal. Swords can't beat guns. We went to Cid and asked for help, he gives us this 'Can't help you' crap. I buy some ammo, then Gatta strikes a deal for two hundred thousand Gil for weapons, and then the Yevonites decide to rain on the parade. They destroy a tower, we fight back, kill them, earn the support of the Al Bhed, and here we are."
Yuna drew back a bit, looking to Gatta in confusion. Gatta in turn turned to Weston, obviously very cross at Weston's outburst.
"I told you to keep your mouth shut!" Gatta yelled, stepping towards Weston.
Weston looked down, jabbing a finger into Gatta's smaller chest. "You're the one who's lollygagging around with this 'milady' bullshit. It's not like it takes five hours to report one little incident. If you just tell the truth instead of convoluting everything with lies that couldn't possibly stand under any scrutiny, things would go a lot smoother."
Gatta growled and surprised Weston with a hard punch to the abdomen. Weston doubled over; gasping wildly for the wind had been knocked out of him by the punch. Gatta huffed and turned towards Yuna.
"Yes, Lady Yuna, what he said is true."
Yuna sighed, burying her face into her palms, speaking into them. "Gatta...Ughol's gone to Luca."
Gatta blinked, leaning forward a bit in surprise. "What?"
Yuna nodded, face still hidden behind her hands. "He left shortly after you did. He took about four hundred men with him..."
Weston groaned and slowly got back on his feet, albeit a little shaky. Obviously, he was angered by Gatta's assault, but amazingly kept himself under control. In a very angry, raspy voice he uttered, "Why?"
Yuna's eyes glazed a bit, showing a mixture of anger, disgust, and a deep sadness. Softly, she answered, "Nyka...has taken Luca."
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The street's tall, stone buildings cast enough shadows to darken anyone's mood. As I slowly walked along, my eyes darted to and fro, pushing every dent, scratch, stain, face, body, door, and window through my mind. The awareness level of my brain was tuned to overdrive, mainly due to the incident at the entrance. I didn't know what waited for me in the familiar parts -or this part, for that matter- of town.
What really got to me was how large Luca -really- was. My long-since buried memories of my brief visit to this town weren't going to help me. I still couldn't believe at how little I knew of a city I had considered a mapped and conquered land. Even in this alerted state, awe filled me as I tried to imagine just what or whom these buildings harbored. It was obviously a residential district, but I doubted the more privileged families would even set foot in this area.
The street abruptly ended and another began, the two streets linked only by a graveled stretch of sidewalk. Something clicked in the back of my mind and I stopped. I had no clue as to why I had stopped, and I looked about, listening closely. After a few moments, I heard the somewhat muffled sound of an argument. Seeing no one else around, I slinked towards the direction the sound was coming from and shortly found my way to a small goods shop. There was one large display window and in the second it took me to kneel to a near prone position I registered two more of the white robed men and an elderly gentleman behind the counter. I slowly inched forward and saw that the door was quite ajar, allowing the sound of their quarrel to reach nearby ears. I concentrated my senses onto the sound, eavesdropping, much to my common sense's objections.
A deep, gravely voice uttered the words, "Not a chance."
A lighter, younger voice replied, "So you're going to object to...us?"
"Yes. And I still don't know why in the world you come to -my- store to supply that awful operation."
"What, you'd rather the bodies rot in the street?!"
"I'd rather not have those souls lost. It was a damned massacre!"
"They attacked -us-!"
"And then you killed every one of them!"
"We were protecting you and the rest of Luca."
"Protecting us? You call barging in, killing thousands, and taking over -protecting-?! What kind of fool do you take me for, son?"
"Listen, old man. You either help us, or pay the consequence."
"You can't do a damned thing to me, young one."
"Oh really?"
And my senses were set ablaze by a loud report. A dull thud followed, and I jumped up, bolting towards an alleyway as fast as my legs could carry me.
When I had come to the walled end of the alleyway, I turned around and leaned my back against the stone obstruction. I kneeled and tried to catch my breath silently as I listened to my gasps and for any footsteps. My breath stopped when I heard a couple of hushed voices near the entryway. With as little noise as possible, I shifted my body-weight and fell against the ground, causing a nearby box's shadow to cast over my upper-half. I slid the box slightly to the left, catching a glimpse of the two white- robed men passing the alley's entrance.
With a sigh, I slowly stood, holding my sword against my back with an arm. I inched forward along the alley's east wall and peeked an eye in both directions. To the right, the men were slowly walking, backs to me. To the left, nothing. But to the left was where I had come from and I wasn't planning on retreating. My chest shrank as I let out a huff of air. I started moving off to the right, keeping my distance from the men.
As I progressed, my mind absently made the decision to follow these men. Obviously, my brain felt it knew more than I did, seeing as I really hadn't made the decision myself. Wonderful what a grace period can do to a mind...
But even brains can make bad decisions, and mine had made a doozey. When the men rounded the corner of the street, with me falling in suit a ways behind, I realized what the "operation" was.
It wasn't the sight of the bodies that initially angered me, nor was it how the white-robes were treating those bodies. It was the smell. The smell of burning coal (which I attributed to these men's machina), mixed with the stench of wet, soggy, and rotting flesh.
Now, I can't undermine the sight, either. It was what caused me to react in such a...wild way. The two men stopped at this long line of wooden barriers that I supposed kept the public out. They seemed to relay some information to another man. When they saluted, my fears were confirmed. These guys were an invading army, and had unanimously won Luca by force. It was that fact, I believe, that set me off.
The men began to turn and I ducked back behind the corner of the building. Slowly, I slid my sword from the back brace and spread eagle against the wall, my back being somewhat cooled by the stone. My left hand held the sword, the tip of its blade pressed against the stone sidewalk. My right hand held me flat against the wall and I listened...and waited.
The clunks of the men's boots were easily discernable, and easily ranged. My head turned, the corner of my right eye waiting for a flash of white. Two seconds later, and my eye saw its target.
In one fluid motion, my body twisted, all my weight shifting into my left arm. The blade's tip scratched into the stone and sparked as I turned. With every bit of my strength and body weight behind it, my sword swung upwards, catching both men with its girth direction under the chin. My weapon clanged as it stuck into the corner of the building. I stood, silent, left hand still holding the handle of my sword. Two deep thuds sounded, followed by a lighter one off to the side, and finally, another lighter one behind me, against the sidewalk on the other side of the corner.
Satisfied, I wrenched my sword from the cornerstone, twirled onto the opposite street and ran full speed at the wooden barriers.
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Eimour sighed and looked into the mirror, straightening her blouse. The outfit had been her mother's, and she couldn't help but to smile, despite her nervousness.
The outfit was the same one her mother had worn many times in the marketplace. It had been custom for Eimour's family to shop on Saturdays. She could see herself, the energetic eight year old begging for just one orange. Despite her parents barely being able to make due, she always got one of the expensive fruits. She giggled silently as she brushed some lint off of the skirt. Her orange would last days and days, for she only took small nibbles from it.
Eimour again laughed, but this time, at the irony of her life. No matter how old she got, what kind of job she held, or who was in her life, she had always been forced to take the small nibbles. A big bite of something seemed as unreachable to her as the sun itself.
And when her mother turned to religion, Eimour couldn't help but scoff at and stray from the woman that birthed her. Then age sixteen, she had little understanding of what faith was, and saw no use for it. Blindly believing everything was going to turn into gold was as sane as jumping from a tall building and expecting to bounce. At least, that's what Eimour had thought at the time.
Now Eimour knew why her mother had turned to religion. The woman had little else. Her only daughter strayed from her, her husband had long since been dead, and her job was to clean a local ranch's Chocobo stables of excrement.
Eimour shook her head of the thought and studied herself in the mirror. She had spent half an hour relearning how to use her old makeup. Surprising enough, she was pleased with the results. The outfit was a personal favorite, and hoped it'd impress the owner of the pub. The blouse was loose fitting, seeing as Eimour wasn't as buxom as her mother, but it still fit her midsection well. The skirt was knee-length, tasteful, but still slightly provocative. A pair of stockings darkened her legs and adorning her feet were two low-soled pumps that had also been her mother's.
She turned and looked towards Gary's sleeping form. Slowly, she leaned down and kissed his forehead, brushing a few locks of the boy's dark hair. As silently as she could, she opened, and then closed the door behind her.
Eimour slowly descended the stairs of the inn and made her way to the still-damaged front door. Upon stepping outside, she noted the dull, grey clouds that still clung to the sky. She knew not why the rain had come so quickly. But, the weather was her last concern.
With a shaky sigh, she walked the few feet to the pub and reluctantly entered the establishment. Eimour looked around, noting that the pub was serving quite a bit of Nyka's soldiers. While this did make her uneasy, she really didn't want to care.
She made eye contact with the bartender, prompting him to ask, "You the chick up for the job?"
Eimour blinked, not registering the question immediately. Finally, she nodded.
"Alright, I'll get the boss. Hold on a minute."
She stood, in the middle of the pub, feeling the men's eyes glide over her. This didn't help her nervousness, and she began to fidget about, trying not to notice the many pairs of eyes fixated on her. To her relief, a short, balding man walked out from behind the bar and took her hand.
"Eimour, I presume?"
She smiled in return. "Yes. Are you the owner of this establishment?"
"You betcha. Let's get behind the bar and discuss your hours and wages."
Eimour blinked, not expecting the man's words. "I'm...hired?"
"Of course. I owed my brother a favor, anyway. He speaks highly of you."
She couldn't help but to smile and followed the aging gentleman behind the bar. He led her to a small office and closed the door behind them.
The aging man motioned for Eimour to sit down, and she nodded, doing so across from a large wooden desk. He then sat down behind the desk and smiled at her.
"First of all. Wage. You tell me what you'd like to get."
Eimour blinked, and meekly replied, "I suppose five Gil a week would do..."
The man laughed, slapping his hand on the desk. "Five Gil a week? How about five Gil a day?"
"A...day?"
"Sure. S'what my brother suggested."
"That's...too much for a barmaid..."
The man laughed again. "Nonsense. And you'll be waiting tables, not actually making the drinks."
Eimour nodded.
"How many days a week can you work?"
"As many as you like."
"Seven?"
"Of course."
"Sorry, but no can do."
She blinked, half-cocking a brow.
He laughed, holding up a hand. "We're closed on weekends."
With that, Eimour laughed softly, nodding. "So five, then."
"Yes, five. You can start as early as tomorrow. Eight in the morning to four in the evening are your hours. Can you handle that?"
"Yes, sir."
He stood and Eimour did as well. She thanked him and was about to leave, but remembered once last thing.
"Sir?"
"Yes?" he replied.
"Could I bring my son to work? He's...young, but I promise he won't be trouble."
He smiled. "Don't see why not. I'd like to meet him anyway."
She smiled warmly and thanked him again. Hurriedly, she made her way out of the pub and back into her own building. As she opened her door, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be taking small nibbles for much longer.
--------------------
Leaping the barrier was simple. I easily stuck my sword's tip into the stone street, catching a crack, and used it as leverage to launch my flipping body into the air and over the barrier, bringing the sword down in a swiping motion. The blade sliced into the shoulder of the barrier's guard, who immediately fell. Quickly, I drove my sword into his chest and then leapt sideways, now noting that my intrusion hadn't gone unnoticed.
The machina toting men growled loudly in my general direction and hastily fired in my general direction. What I did next not only surprised the shooters, but me as well.
Seeing a large, high-speed projectile heading right for your head shouldn't happen. But it did. I clearly saw the bulbous object and used my sword to deflect its path, sending it off into a stone wall somewhere. More shots came as I ran towards two men reloading their weapons. I quickly dispatched them only to see another coming up behind me. I crouched quickly and let my body weight rest on one leg while I slung the other into the soldier's own two legs, knocking him from his feet. My sword fell upon him and I was up and moving again, dodging the bodies as best I could.
Alas, motor skills, no matter how well developed, will fail from time to time, and that's just what mine did. I tripped over a body and slid with my own momentum along the street, sword still in hand and sparking against the stone of the road. I managed to turn my body in time to see a solider running toward me. As my body finally decided to slow to a decent and less painful speed, I flung my sword at the soldier. The blade glanced off of his head, causing a nasty gash and he fell.
I knew from experience that the pain of a wound doesn't come until you look at the wound itself, so I ignored the warm, sticky liquid beginning to flow down my arm and back and looked for anymore threats. Finding none, I walked slowly over to my sword and made the mistake of trying to place it into the back brace. What came from my throat in reply to the pain sounded like something that should never come from human throats. I dropped the sword and fell to my knees, the pain in my back and right arm coming to a new light.
After muttering a growl, I finally got a peek at my arm's wound. Most of the skin was gone from the elbow up, replaced by a blood-coated mass of torn flesh and muscle. It wasn't very long, but it hurt, badly. That, and my right sleeve was completely gone. I imagined that my back was in much the same shape, save a few degrees less in severity.
With a few logical thoughts, my brain began to detour from its primal instincts and started telling my extremities to ignore the pain and grab a robe from one of these dead guys. And that's what I did.
The robe was large enough to cover my entire body, and then some. I just had to pick a tall guy's robe. After leaving the sword, picking up a machina weapon, and becoming a "Yevonite", I made my way down the other end of the square and walked casually, not expecting much resistance. And, surprisingly, I met none. But, I did realize that the closer I got to the market place, the more of a chance someone would notice that I was dripping blood onto the white stone sidewalk. I mean, even -I- had noticed it.
Finally, I could see large banners and a large procession of people in the distance, and knew I was heading in the right direction. Even the docks were viewable.
And the docks weren't the same docks. They were full of airships instead of sea faring vessels. Then again, I'd been gone for who knows how long. Spira would be a difference place, even if time had only progressed a few years into the future. I just prayed that I was not too late to find my way home. And my home had become her arms. I just needed to get close enough to be enveloped by them.
As the market place started to get larger from my perspective, I began to jog, dodging who and what I had to. And no one seemed to think a thing of it. I saw no recognition light up in anyone's eyes. But I thought that that could've been due to the fact that the city was not itself anymore, but apart of something else...something I needed to find out about.
Since I seemed to have a somewhat good disguise, I jogged through the market area and made my way towards the stadium. Even the Yevonites along the way didn't double take as I ran. It was amazing to me how lax this little army was; yet it still was able to take down such a large opposing force...
I growled as a shot of pain hit my body, my body obviously tired from the stress I've forced on it. And my jogging wasn't going to help the situation.
Finally, I jogged onto the docks and took a breather. Mind you, I was still getting stared at quite a bit, but no one said a word, so I was happy. Now to think of where I need to go...
"Hey you!"
I stopped catching my breath and stood erect, pivoting my body (and machina) in the direction of the sound.
"Are you going to escort us or not?"
"Huh?" I asked, having no clue as to what the voice was asking or where it was coming from. After a few moments, a large, round man in flannel attire stepped from behind a box.
"What, are all of Nyka's men -this- stupid? You're coming to escort my supply airship to Besaid. I've got a hundred tapestry orders that need to be filled. Get your ass in the ship, now!"
I blinked and then grinned. "Yes, sir," I replied enthusiastically, mocking a salute.
"Eh, screw you too, smart ass."
I laughed and jogged towards the ship, thanking fate, karma, and everything else I could. I was going home.
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A/N: Guess who's back! Finally, I've got this damned thing up! Yes, I know it's been awhile since the last chapter. But this one just was a bit of a doozey for me.
I'd like to start this little A/N off by announcing that this chapter is dedicated to Th' Lady Shadow and her stellar fic (the very same one that sparked my drive to write AtS). Dreams Come True is now a year old! Yup, one year ago today (Jan 25) DCT was born. Happy birthday DCT and congrats to Shad for putting so much time, effort, and talent into it. It's truly been a blessing following DCT for so long. Salute!
And, now for the personal thanks. I'd like to personally thank Shad for making that initial contact before this chapter was even started. Had it not been for your wonderful beta-readings and insight (and distractions ^.~) this chapter wouldn't be up to par. Oh, and I've put so many "Shad references" in this chapter that counting would be futile, but do so if you must. *offers chocolate as a prize!*
Thanks also to you guys, the readers. Without you, AtS would be a lonely fic. Well, time for my nap. I've got college fun fun stuff tomorrow! *blech*
And yes, the title of this chapter is another King Arthur allusion.
PSA/N: Just noticed something in the FFX section. A whole bunch of character insert fics are popping up. Not that there wasn't any before, I'm just saying that in the past few weeks, tons have sprung up from out of nowhere. Some look promising while others need work while still others don't need to be there. Eh, weird shtuff man. Peace.
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Darkness. It's all that surrounded me. Time didn't exist. I couldn't see. Couldn't feel. I couldn't even hear my own heartbeat, if I had one. Why I was in this darkness was beyond my comprehension, for my only thoughts were of her.
Every moment I thought of her. That last prick in the endless stream of time was what I'd live over and over. A burst of light, the parting of a cloud, whispered words, and a failed embrace. The light grew and I fell through; then, nothing. No feelings, sounds, tastes, sights; I was a dream without a dreamer, a lost remembrance of a long-dead civilization. I was nothing, for I had come from nothing, and had returned to my nonexistence.
"So this is what I get for saving the world?" I remember asking the void that after my millionth or so time of reliving my last few moments in Spira again, hearing her words. I remember screaming those words to her as I fell, but I had already lost my voice.
Every 'living' moment in that hell was another nail being driven into my heart. I felt no longer, but my emotions tormented me to no end. My mental anguish was my pain. My memories were my sight. My hearing consisted of only three words, and yet, I felt more inside than I had ever in my 'life'.
The more I wandered in the darkness, the more it effected me. My hope of a new birth began to slip away, my hostility towards circumstance grew, and I began to loathe. My hatred began to consume my thoughts, my memories. Instead of remembering her words, her face, her touch, her lips, I remembered being robbed of her, and my happiness.
I'd form faceless enemies with my mind and hack away with an invisible sword. My anger trained me and numbed me. The pain was too great, and I buckled. Yet and still, I longed for her. Her sapphire and jade eyes haunted my own. Her angelic voice hung in my ears. Her lips still lingered on my own after so long. Despite myself, I could not forget her. Nor would I ever forget her. My love for her kept me human while I trained my mind with countless battles, fighting foe after foe, aware of nothing else.
I could not imagine the darkness surrounding me and within me as being the Farplane. Was I ever truly alive? I refused to believe this was how I was to spend the rest of my eternal life, if what I had was even 'life'. Was there a way back? Even though I still had an inclining of hope, I had my doubts. And the doubts made me feel guilty.
I vaguely remember a voice coming to me. It was monotone and hard to understand, and the only real phrase I could make out was "Hold out your hands." And I did. It wasn't voluntary, really, but more of a reflex. In my right hand, cloth covered cylinder was placed. "This is your sword," the voice simply explained. In the left, a spherical object was placed. The voice again, explained, "This is your stone." Confused, I tried to speak, but found that I couldn't, which wasn't much of a surprise.
I remember being pushed forward slowly, towards, at least it seemed at the time, a small circle of light. I could make no detail of the light, but could tell that it was there. It was as if I was looking at the sun through the back of my eyelids. As I grew nearer, I felt my thoughts switch back to her. And for once, I could feel myself trying to smile.
Faster and faster I felt myself move, the light growing larger and larger all the while. My thoughts circulated, good to bad and back again. I was starting to become "aware" of myself. I felt...weight from the objects in my hands. A pressure started to close in as the light grew to surround me. At the moment I felt myself implode, it stopped, and I could open my eyes.
As my eyes adjusted to the light, I began to start to truly feel again. Millions of tiny little needles seemed to prod my skin as I made the first few wobbly steps. The sounds faded in, as if long-held hands unfurled their grip from my ears. Smells that were alien to me started to fill my nostrils. Moist air started to fill my lungs. The darkness that was previously around me faded slowly away, whilst a barrage of colors and distorted light begin to fill my eyes. I blinked a few times and the image focused, revealing recognizable images of grass, trees, and flowers. It was wonderful to see again.
I held the glowing stone tightly as I looked around. In the distance was Luca, while around me there was only grass and a few trees. I couldn't help but pinch myself. And I felt pain. For this split second, pain was my savior, for what I had left was a world beyond pain. And I was alive. I could feel my beating heart within my chest. I could hear almost every single pat of rain against the blades of grass. I could smell and breathe in the moisture in the air. And I could see. After so long in darkness, I could see.
I looked myself over, making sure I was -all- there. As I had thought (due to the cold rain drops hammering against my skin) I was naked, save for the sword in my hand. The blade was thick, and I knew it was heavy, but somehow, I was able to carry it without much trouble.
Seeing as I couldn't stay in the field and I couldn't run very well due to my bare feet, I decided to walk in Luca's general direction. I imagined what a sight I'd be, waltzing into the city nude. But, honestly, I didn't care. If anyone got in my way, they wouldn't enjoy the consequences. I had one goal, and one goal alone: -her-.
--------------------
The lone private was about a mile outside of Luca when he came upon the two Yevonite guards. Due to his desperation, he didn't even see them. He simply bolted through them. Unfortunately for him, he tripped and stumbled a few feet behind them, disorienting him even more so as he rolled to a stop.
The Yevonites slowly walked toward him, rifles raised, completely unaware of the private's spared life and messenger status. Grinning, the two men fired.
--------------------
I walked along the dirt path I had come upon, my arms wrapped around my own chest for warmth. The scenery hadn't changed much, but I had to remind myself that I didn't know what I was in store for. Time was an idea I'd have to get used to again. To tell the honest truth, I had fears that everyone I had known was dead. I didn't know how long I had been gone and there was really no way to tell until I met a familiar face. Or asked questions.
Luca's skyline was growing closer and closer with each step and I found myself in no mood to stop. I was determined, even if I had my doubts. Fate hadn't been kind to me, so why should I think any different?
But I had to think differently. I had come back, strange as it was. A life without her wouldn't be worth living, however...
With a shake of my head and the squinting of my eyes I pushed onward, cold, confused, and ready to find some sort of clothing. My eyes focused on my feet as I walked, not particularly interested in the old sight in front of me. The cold mud sucked my feet down and left prints among the others. Funny, the tracks I was walking through seemed fresh. Generally, people stay indoors when it rains...
The footprints stopped short at the foot of something I hadn't expected to come across. I knelt, stuck my sword into the ground, and looked the Crusader's body over, knowing the soldier was long gone. The smell of urine and feces emanated from the corpse and I could see two bullet holes in his chest.
I tried to stop myself, but it was more of a reflex than voluntary action. With a grunt, I pulled the boots off, noting that they were two sizes two big. After pushing them to the side, and wincing, I slowly removed the trousers. The smell nearly made me lose whatever was in my stomach. My nose involuntarily shut itself off as I slipped on the soiled trousers and inched on the large boots. Once I had double-knotted the shoelaces, I slipped the soldier's over-shirt off and tried it on. The soldier's shoulders were broader, but I fixed that by tucking the shirt's tail in.
Either my drive to get my goal accomplished or my need for clothing allowed me to ignore the stench and the drying blood now sticking to my skin. I tried to convince myself that waltzing into Luca like this was better than going naked. Unbeknownst to me at the time, I'd have been better off naked.
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"I hope Lady Yuna will be pleased..."
Weston laughed. "Well, let's see...First, you leave without telling her. Then make a deal with her uncle-"
"That you incited."
"Noted. But it's all on you, my friend. I was just following." Weston laughed, punching Gatta lightly in the arm.
"Yeah, yeah."
"S'not like she'll need to know."
Gatta blinked. "Well, wouldn't -you- be curious if Al Bhed transport ships started arriving on -your- island?"
"I suppose. But as long as they're helping us, what does it matter?"
"Gah, you're impossible."
"That's what my teachers told me."
Gatta smirked. "I could see you not being one for discipline. But if you were a soldier following orders...how did you survive?"
Weston shrugged. "It came easier in the Army I guess. Unlike my teachers, the Army provided me with a home, food, clothing, and a wage. The only thing my teachers gave me was a headache."
"But you seem well educated."
"Yeah, I paid attention and did my work, it's just the whole 'I'm better than you' thing. They didn't have the power to cut off my amenities, but the guys yelling at me in the Army -did-. You tend to want to follow orders given to you by someone who can take your meal away. It only took two missed mess-hall visits to straighten me up." Weston laughed, adding, "I'm a food fan."
"You certainly eat like one. I don't know how you maintain your girlish figure."
Weston cocked a brow and flopped his wrist limply, slurring his words and raising his voice's pitch, "Well, wouldn't -you- like to know, big boy?"
Gatta rolled his eyes. "Yuna's not one to get mad, but don't say anything. Let me tell her. Who knows, she might be overjoyed to hear the news."
"Right."
--------------------
With Luca only a few paces away, the rain slowly began to ease its barrage and a mist was beginning to rise from the ground. My sword was hooked into a back brace that had formally been the soldier's. Every step caused the sword to swing and slap against my back, which wouldn't have been as annoying had it been sheathed. I prayed I wouldn't have to use it, for after so long drowning in my own resentment...there was no telling what I'd do to any opposition.
I let out a sigh and closed my eyes, trying to shake away any thoughts that might inhibit my actions. Step by step, the entrance to Luca's residential district came into view.
At first, I had a hard time making out the two men, since their white robes blended easily against Luca's white stone. Cautiously, I waved, which seemed to get their attention. They began to run towards me as I began to walk towards them.
And then, I stopped, blinking, as they seemed to be shouting at me. Confused, I turned around, trying to see if anyone had come up behind me. Oddly enough, no one had and I turned back around to see the two men even closer than before. Then, I noticed the machina.
With a grunt, I leaped into the air, surprised by my own agile movements. Thankfully, my time spent alone had not been for naught. I had seemingly acquired some skill from my time in hell.
It only took a few seconds for my boots to land on the men's heads, pushing down on their spinal columns and then forward for my own momentum. I flipped and rotated before my feet hit the ground and my sword was already drawn. The men hadn't even turned around yet and in their confusion, fired the machina off. Only then did they turn.
Swiftly, I strafe-jumped to the side and landed a slash into one of the machina, wrenching it from the man's hands. Using the sword's handle as an anchor, I spun around, my rigid legs bringing the men down. My foot came down upon the machina and I pulled the sword from the weapon's wooden frame.
As I rolled off to the left, raising my sword in defense, I heard the first shot head my way. With a clang, the metal projectile reflected off of my sword and off into the distance, hopefully hitting dirt. Quickly, I lunged forward at the man still holding a machina weapon while sweeping my leg towards the other. I failed to hit the shooter, but managed to knock his accomplice off of his feet, giving me a slight upper hand.
With me so close to him, the gunman couldn't fire his machina, but he did make a few swipes at me before I finally felt my sword graze flesh. The man howled and dropped the machina, which I promptly kicked to the side. With a couple more slashes, the man's white robe had grown red and he fell backwards.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the remaining man crawling towards his gashed machina weapon. I pounced, fingernails digging into his back. With an audible shunk, my sword connected and dug into the ground below before I pulled it up, returning it to my back brace. I knelt by the injured man, clearing my throat a few times before trying to speak for the first time in no telling how long.
"Why did you attack me?" My voice cracked at first, but smoothed out by the last vowel.
The man let out a whispered, "Crusader filth..."
I looked my clothing over and noted that maybe having a Crusader uniform on wasn't such a good idea. I pressed further, "And who are you?"
"A proud...Yevonite..."
I stood, blinking. Yevonite? I thought. What the hell's happened while I was gone? I hunched my shoulders and moved toward the entrance, my head filling with questions at every step.
--------------------
Eimour sighed as she once again made her way to the local store. The streets were relatively empty, but the Yevonites' patrols had been strengthened to four men a patrol, and two patrols per street. The walk to the store thusly, didn't feel safer, but felt more dangerous, since she surely didn't trust the men that had barged into the inn and killed its owner and receptionist.
She cautiously stayed in the middle of the street, keeping off of the soldier filled sidewalks. They eyed her as she eyed them. A few soldiers even moved towards her, but then backed off, obviously a scare tactic.
Finally, Eimour opened the shop's door and stepped inside, sighing in relief. The shopkeeper smiled.
"Surviving the trip here again?"
Eimour nodded. "Yeah, but it looked like there were more soldiers out on the streets today."
"Yeah, they beefed up security because of the incident earlier today in the gate-side residential area."
"What incident?"
"You didn't hear?"
Eimour shook her head. "Not a word."
"Surprising. News travels fast..."
She laughed. "I don't get out much."
He nodded with a smile, but then lost it. "Well, since you haven't heard, I'll fill ya in. Early this morning, around three I believe, a force of about four hundred Crusaders entered the city. Some claim they wanted to take over Luca themselves. Most, though, know that they were here to liberate us. Unfortunately, they left their Chocobos exposed as they marched towards the residential area and our Yevonite friends were waiting for them. Even set up a trap..." The old man sighed and then continued. "The force was massacred. Only a few Yevonites were lost. Rumor also has it that Gatta's right hand man was slaughtered in the massacre too...but no word from any officials, yet..."
Eimour's head dropped, saddened by the waste of life and the failed liberation.
The old man was sullen himself for a moment, head hung, seeming to be offering prayers for those lost. After a few moments, his disposition lightened and he said, as if starting over the conversation, "What can I get ya?"
She laughed. "A job, a new home, a new life...but I suppose the normal groceries will do."
"A -job-, eh? The job at the stadium open back up?"
"Someone contacted me, saying that my job was still there, but instead of concessions, I'd be working in the newly converted locker rooms, serving a bunch of restless and touchy-feely soldiers... Not my idea of a job."
The old man nodded as he set a couple of loaves of bread into a basket. "I don't know about the home or life thing, but I know I can get you a job. The only problem is...you'd still be serving those surly soldiers, but you'd be getting paid decently, and you'd have protection from any of the 'touchy-feely' types."
"That's...tempting...but do soldiers come in your store a lot?"
He laughed. "No, the job is at my brother's pub."
"The one next to my inn?"
He nodded. "That's the one. I'd have to speak with him first, but I'm sure you can start as soon as possible. I'll set up a meeting for this afternoon. Oh, has the rain stopped?"
"Yeah. Lots of clouds though. I think it might be threatening to return soon."
"Well, since the pub's right next door, you shouldn't have a problem staying dry, if it were to rain again."
She smiled and nodded, handing him most of her money. This time, his charity wasn't as giving, and he gave her half of it back.
"You know, dear, that I'm not going to take that hunk of change. The Gil has inflated and for you, that's dangerous. Here are your groceries. Tell that youngster of yours to look in the second basket, near the bottom. I've got him something special in there."
She graciously thanked him and nodded, leaving the store. The trip back to the inn was a bit chipper for Eimour, and upon entering her apartment, began searching for the present left by the old man for Gary.
She smiled when she saw a large chocolate bar sitting at the bottom of one of the baskets. Gary came waddling over from the window.
"Groceries, mommy?"
"Yes, hon. And here's something just for you."
She handed him the bar and he tore into it hungrily. She had to admit; chocolate had odd effects of people, especially Gary. He had had his first taste a couple of years ago, and has since begged her for it every time she went to the store. She couldn't always afford it, but tried to get it every time she could.
With a sigh, Eimour crossed over to the window, letting Gary follow her, chocolate now covering his mouth. She looked out of the window, looking down below, watching the soldiers and inhabitants dodge each other. She wondered where Luca's future was heading, and how the incident earlier had affected it. If the pub job played out, she'd be secure, at least, for a little while. Of course, had it not been for the old man, she wouldn't even have the possibility of the pub job.
She owed the old man so much, yet she knew nothing that she could do to repay him. A few tears escaped her eyes and after a little while, Gary crawled into her lap. She sat at the edge of the window, son in her lap, waiting for afternoon to come.
--------------------
Gatta blinked, looking towards Weston. "No, I don't think we should leave her out of the loop. I mean, Cid's her uncle, Weston. It's not like we could hide it forever. Besides, what in the world do you think she's going to suspect when Al Bhed transport ships start mysteriously arriving in Besaid?"
Weston shrugged. "Jeez, it was just a thought. A lot less trouble if we keep this strictly a military affair. Then again...there's the fact that we couldn't hide it that long."
"Rikku would mouth-off about it to her despite any measures we would take."
"So we'll let Rikku tell her, then?"
"No. I'm in charge of the Crusaders, and I report directly to Yuna. I don't need a middleman...err...woman."
Weston nodded and walked over to a window. "Besaid's in view."
"We'll be there in a matter of minutes. Now remember, let me do the talking. No mention of the clash with the Yevonites."
"I thought we weren't keeping anything from her."
"I don't want her worried this early in the deal."
Weston nodded. "Yeah. So, we stick to the 'contract' story?"
"Mmhmm."
"And if she asks why we're dirty, why I'm carrying two Al Bhed weapons, or why we're bringing in a few boxes?"
"We're dirty because we were caught in a windstorm, you're carrying those weapons because I gave them to you, and those boxes are a part of the deal."
Weston nodded, satisfied.
After a few moments of silence, the airship shook and then settled down with a thud, shaking the two men in the cargo hold. Slowly, the bay doors opened, bathing them in sunlight. Weston squinted, raising an arm up to block out the sun.
"Jeez..."
Gatta laughed. "Hey, at least it isn't dust."
"True. So, are we heading directly to the chopping block or would you like to prepare your obituary first?"
Gatta snorted and walked up to the cockpit. A moment later, the airship's engines died and Gatta emerged, nodding to Weston.
"The pilot is staying here for the moment. After we speak to Lady Yuna, I'm going to get some men to take these supplies to the barracks."
Weston nodded. "And where do I go after the rendezvous?"
"Where ever you want to."
"Alright."
With that, Gatta made his way down to the cargo hold and then began walking out into the sunny field. Weston followed, and when his feet met grass, he saw that the airship had landed a mere twelve or so meters from the village.
Weston wasn't too worried about how Yuna would react, knowing the girl to be a bit reserved, if not passive. But he suspected that demeanor was the product of a couple of years in the spotlight. He knew what it was like to always be looked upon. A week after his parents' murder, his face was all over the media. Newspapers, magazines, television news channels; they all wanted to hear the story of the boy who had survived three days in a forest with a crazed serial killer on his trail. Every sickening detail that was available was made public and Weston had to bear the onslaught of reporters and television hosts begging the question "How?"
"Hey, you ok?"
Weston shook his head, looking left and right, not aware of his previous dream-state.
"You ok?" Gatta blinked as he spoke, obviously confused.
"Yeah. Sorry. Dazed out."
"Well, ok. But try to do it outside of the main path, ok?"
Weston looked around and noticed a few pairs of eyes trained his way. He smiled and then hurriedly headed towards the temple, cheeks burning a little at the embarrassment.
Upon entering the temple, Gatta stopped, causing Weston to do so as well.
"Lady Yuna?" Gatta called aloud.
"Don't tell me she's still asleep," muttered Weston.
"Lady Yuna?" Gatta repeated. "May we have a word with you?"
Finally, Yuna emerged, eyes baggy, hair tousled, her clothing wrinkled.
With a yawn, she said, "Yes?"
Gatta half-bowed, "Milady, I'm here to report that the Al Bhed have joined the Crusaders in your fight against Nyka."
Weston rolled his head, popping a few vertebrae, watching Yuna as she digested Gatta's sentence. Finally, the former Summoner nodded, turning her back towards the two men as she went back into her room.
Gatta turned to Weston, "She seems uninterested."
Weston shrugged, "Like I said, she really doesn't need to know and obviously doesn't care."
"I do care, Weston, contrary to popular belief." Yuna emerged once more, a glass of water in her hand. "And Gatta, never call this 'my' fight. If I had my way this would end now. But Nyka insists on giving peace-loving people grief."
"Yes, milady," Gatta replied.
"What's this with the Al Bhed? And why did you leave without telling me anything?"
"We're terribly sorry, but we didn't want to disturb you. I was told you were asleep when I came."
"Please wake me next time."
"Yes, milady."
"Continue with your explanation."
"Yes. After many hours of deliberation, I came to the decision that allying with the Al Bhed would be beneficial to our cause due to their expertise in machina production.
"So you've gotten Cid's support?"
"Yes, milady."
"But what does this 'deal' entail, exactly?"
"Well, it includes weaponry and troop support-"
Weston stepped forward, coming close to Yuna. "Here's the deal. Swords can't beat guns. We went to Cid and asked for help, he gives us this 'Can't help you' crap. I buy some ammo, then Gatta strikes a deal for two hundred thousand Gil for weapons, and then the Yevonites decide to rain on the parade. They destroy a tower, we fight back, kill them, earn the support of the Al Bhed, and here we are."
Yuna drew back a bit, looking to Gatta in confusion. Gatta in turn turned to Weston, obviously very cross at Weston's outburst.
"I told you to keep your mouth shut!" Gatta yelled, stepping towards Weston.
Weston looked down, jabbing a finger into Gatta's smaller chest. "You're the one who's lollygagging around with this 'milady' bullshit. It's not like it takes five hours to report one little incident. If you just tell the truth instead of convoluting everything with lies that couldn't possibly stand under any scrutiny, things would go a lot smoother."
Gatta growled and surprised Weston with a hard punch to the abdomen. Weston doubled over; gasping wildly for the wind had been knocked out of him by the punch. Gatta huffed and turned towards Yuna.
"Yes, Lady Yuna, what he said is true."
Yuna sighed, burying her face into her palms, speaking into them. "Gatta...Ughol's gone to Luca."
Gatta blinked, leaning forward a bit in surprise. "What?"
Yuna nodded, face still hidden behind her hands. "He left shortly after you did. He took about four hundred men with him..."
Weston groaned and slowly got back on his feet, albeit a little shaky. Obviously, he was angered by Gatta's assault, but amazingly kept himself under control. In a very angry, raspy voice he uttered, "Why?"
Yuna's eyes glazed a bit, showing a mixture of anger, disgust, and a deep sadness. Softly, she answered, "Nyka...has taken Luca."
--------------------
The street's tall, stone buildings cast enough shadows to darken anyone's mood. As I slowly walked along, my eyes darted to and fro, pushing every dent, scratch, stain, face, body, door, and window through my mind. The awareness level of my brain was tuned to overdrive, mainly due to the incident at the entrance. I didn't know what waited for me in the familiar parts -or this part, for that matter- of town.
What really got to me was how large Luca -really- was. My long-since buried memories of my brief visit to this town weren't going to help me. I still couldn't believe at how little I knew of a city I had considered a mapped and conquered land. Even in this alerted state, awe filled me as I tried to imagine just what or whom these buildings harbored. It was obviously a residential district, but I doubted the more privileged families would even set foot in this area.
The street abruptly ended and another began, the two streets linked only by a graveled stretch of sidewalk. Something clicked in the back of my mind and I stopped. I had no clue as to why I had stopped, and I looked about, listening closely. After a few moments, I heard the somewhat muffled sound of an argument. Seeing no one else around, I slinked towards the direction the sound was coming from and shortly found my way to a small goods shop. There was one large display window and in the second it took me to kneel to a near prone position I registered two more of the white robed men and an elderly gentleman behind the counter. I slowly inched forward and saw that the door was quite ajar, allowing the sound of their quarrel to reach nearby ears. I concentrated my senses onto the sound, eavesdropping, much to my common sense's objections.
A deep, gravely voice uttered the words, "Not a chance."
A lighter, younger voice replied, "So you're going to object to...us?"
"Yes. And I still don't know why in the world you come to -my- store to supply that awful operation."
"What, you'd rather the bodies rot in the street?!"
"I'd rather not have those souls lost. It was a damned massacre!"
"They attacked -us-!"
"And then you killed every one of them!"
"We were protecting you and the rest of Luca."
"Protecting us? You call barging in, killing thousands, and taking over -protecting-?! What kind of fool do you take me for, son?"
"Listen, old man. You either help us, or pay the consequence."
"You can't do a damned thing to me, young one."
"Oh really?"
And my senses were set ablaze by a loud report. A dull thud followed, and I jumped up, bolting towards an alleyway as fast as my legs could carry me.
When I had come to the walled end of the alleyway, I turned around and leaned my back against the stone obstruction. I kneeled and tried to catch my breath silently as I listened to my gasps and for any footsteps. My breath stopped when I heard a couple of hushed voices near the entryway. With as little noise as possible, I shifted my body-weight and fell against the ground, causing a nearby box's shadow to cast over my upper-half. I slid the box slightly to the left, catching a glimpse of the two white- robed men passing the alley's entrance.
With a sigh, I slowly stood, holding my sword against my back with an arm. I inched forward along the alley's east wall and peeked an eye in both directions. To the right, the men were slowly walking, backs to me. To the left, nothing. But to the left was where I had come from and I wasn't planning on retreating. My chest shrank as I let out a huff of air. I started moving off to the right, keeping my distance from the men.
As I progressed, my mind absently made the decision to follow these men. Obviously, my brain felt it knew more than I did, seeing as I really hadn't made the decision myself. Wonderful what a grace period can do to a mind...
But even brains can make bad decisions, and mine had made a doozey. When the men rounded the corner of the street, with me falling in suit a ways behind, I realized what the "operation" was.
It wasn't the sight of the bodies that initially angered me, nor was it how the white-robes were treating those bodies. It was the smell. The smell of burning coal (which I attributed to these men's machina), mixed with the stench of wet, soggy, and rotting flesh.
Now, I can't undermine the sight, either. It was what caused me to react in such a...wild way. The two men stopped at this long line of wooden barriers that I supposed kept the public out. They seemed to relay some information to another man. When they saluted, my fears were confirmed. These guys were an invading army, and had unanimously won Luca by force. It was that fact, I believe, that set me off.
The men began to turn and I ducked back behind the corner of the building. Slowly, I slid my sword from the back brace and spread eagle against the wall, my back being somewhat cooled by the stone. My left hand held the sword, the tip of its blade pressed against the stone sidewalk. My right hand held me flat against the wall and I listened...and waited.
The clunks of the men's boots were easily discernable, and easily ranged. My head turned, the corner of my right eye waiting for a flash of white. Two seconds later, and my eye saw its target.
In one fluid motion, my body twisted, all my weight shifting into my left arm. The blade's tip scratched into the stone and sparked as I turned. With every bit of my strength and body weight behind it, my sword swung upwards, catching both men with its girth direction under the chin. My weapon clanged as it stuck into the corner of the building. I stood, silent, left hand still holding the handle of my sword. Two deep thuds sounded, followed by a lighter one off to the side, and finally, another lighter one behind me, against the sidewalk on the other side of the corner.
Satisfied, I wrenched my sword from the cornerstone, twirled onto the opposite street and ran full speed at the wooden barriers.
--------------------
Eimour sighed and looked into the mirror, straightening her blouse. The outfit had been her mother's, and she couldn't help but to smile, despite her nervousness.
The outfit was the same one her mother had worn many times in the marketplace. It had been custom for Eimour's family to shop on Saturdays. She could see herself, the energetic eight year old begging for just one orange. Despite her parents barely being able to make due, she always got one of the expensive fruits. She giggled silently as she brushed some lint off of the skirt. Her orange would last days and days, for she only took small nibbles from it.
Eimour again laughed, but this time, at the irony of her life. No matter how old she got, what kind of job she held, or who was in her life, she had always been forced to take the small nibbles. A big bite of something seemed as unreachable to her as the sun itself.
And when her mother turned to religion, Eimour couldn't help but scoff at and stray from the woman that birthed her. Then age sixteen, she had little understanding of what faith was, and saw no use for it. Blindly believing everything was going to turn into gold was as sane as jumping from a tall building and expecting to bounce. At least, that's what Eimour had thought at the time.
Now Eimour knew why her mother had turned to religion. The woman had little else. Her only daughter strayed from her, her husband had long since been dead, and her job was to clean a local ranch's Chocobo stables of excrement.
Eimour shook her head of the thought and studied herself in the mirror. She had spent half an hour relearning how to use her old makeup. Surprising enough, she was pleased with the results. The outfit was a personal favorite, and hoped it'd impress the owner of the pub. The blouse was loose fitting, seeing as Eimour wasn't as buxom as her mother, but it still fit her midsection well. The skirt was knee-length, tasteful, but still slightly provocative. A pair of stockings darkened her legs and adorning her feet were two low-soled pumps that had also been her mother's.
She turned and looked towards Gary's sleeping form. Slowly, she leaned down and kissed his forehead, brushing a few locks of the boy's dark hair. As silently as she could, she opened, and then closed the door behind her.
Eimour slowly descended the stairs of the inn and made her way to the still-damaged front door. Upon stepping outside, she noted the dull, grey clouds that still clung to the sky. She knew not why the rain had come so quickly. But, the weather was her last concern.
With a shaky sigh, she walked the few feet to the pub and reluctantly entered the establishment. Eimour looked around, noting that the pub was serving quite a bit of Nyka's soldiers. While this did make her uneasy, she really didn't want to care.
She made eye contact with the bartender, prompting him to ask, "You the chick up for the job?"
Eimour blinked, not registering the question immediately. Finally, she nodded.
"Alright, I'll get the boss. Hold on a minute."
She stood, in the middle of the pub, feeling the men's eyes glide over her. This didn't help her nervousness, and she began to fidget about, trying not to notice the many pairs of eyes fixated on her. To her relief, a short, balding man walked out from behind the bar and took her hand.
"Eimour, I presume?"
She smiled in return. "Yes. Are you the owner of this establishment?"
"You betcha. Let's get behind the bar and discuss your hours and wages."
Eimour blinked, not expecting the man's words. "I'm...hired?"
"Of course. I owed my brother a favor, anyway. He speaks highly of you."
She couldn't help but to smile and followed the aging gentleman behind the bar. He led her to a small office and closed the door behind them.
The aging man motioned for Eimour to sit down, and she nodded, doing so across from a large wooden desk. He then sat down behind the desk and smiled at her.
"First of all. Wage. You tell me what you'd like to get."
Eimour blinked, and meekly replied, "I suppose five Gil a week would do..."
The man laughed, slapping his hand on the desk. "Five Gil a week? How about five Gil a day?"
"A...day?"
"Sure. S'what my brother suggested."
"That's...too much for a barmaid..."
The man laughed again. "Nonsense. And you'll be waiting tables, not actually making the drinks."
Eimour nodded.
"How many days a week can you work?"
"As many as you like."
"Seven?"
"Of course."
"Sorry, but no can do."
She blinked, half-cocking a brow.
He laughed, holding up a hand. "We're closed on weekends."
With that, Eimour laughed softly, nodding. "So five, then."
"Yes, five. You can start as early as tomorrow. Eight in the morning to four in the evening are your hours. Can you handle that?"
"Yes, sir."
He stood and Eimour did as well. She thanked him and was about to leave, but remembered once last thing.
"Sir?"
"Yes?" he replied.
"Could I bring my son to work? He's...young, but I promise he won't be trouble."
He smiled. "Don't see why not. I'd like to meet him anyway."
She smiled warmly and thanked him again. Hurriedly, she made her way out of the pub and back into her own building. As she opened her door, she thought that maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't be taking small nibbles for much longer.
--------------------
Leaping the barrier was simple. I easily stuck my sword's tip into the stone street, catching a crack, and used it as leverage to launch my flipping body into the air and over the barrier, bringing the sword down in a swiping motion. The blade sliced into the shoulder of the barrier's guard, who immediately fell. Quickly, I drove my sword into his chest and then leapt sideways, now noting that my intrusion hadn't gone unnoticed.
The machina toting men growled loudly in my general direction and hastily fired in my general direction. What I did next not only surprised the shooters, but me as well.
Seeing a large, high-speed projectile heading right for your head shouldn't happen. But it did. I clearly saw the bulbous object and used my sword to deflect its path, sending it off into a stone wall somewhere. More shots came as I ran towards two men reloading their weapons. I quickly dispatched them only to see another coming up behind me. I crouched quickly and let my body weight rest on one leg while I slung the other into the soldier's own two legs, knocking him from his feet. My sword fell upon him and I was up and moving again, dodging the bodies as best I could.
Alas, motor skills, no matter how well developed, will fail from time to time, and that's just what mine did. I tripped over a body and slid with my own momentum along the street, sword still in hand and sparking against the stone of the road. I managed to turn my body in time to see a solider running toward me. As my body finally decided to slow to a decent and less painful speed, I flung my sword at the soldier. The blade glanced off of his head, causing a nasty gash and he fell.
I knew from experience that the pain of a wound doesn't come until you look at the wound itself, so I ignored the warm, sticky liquid beginning to flow down my arm and back and looked for anymore threats. Finding none, I walked slowly over to my sword and made the mistake of trying to place it into the back brace. What came from my throat in reply to the pain sounded like something that should never come from human throats. I dropped the sword and fell to my knees, the pain in my back and right arm coming to a new light.
After muttering a growl, I finally got a peek at my arm's wound. Most of the skin was gone from the elbow up, replaced by a blood-coated mass of torn flesh and muscle. It wasn't very long, but it hurt, badly. That, and my right sleeve was completely gone. I imagined that my back was in much the same shape, save a few degrees less in severity.
With a few logical thoughts, my brain began to detour from its primal instincts and started telling my extremities to ignore the pain and grab a robe from one of these dead guys. And that's what I did.
The robe was large enough to cover my entire body, and then some. I just had to pick a tall guy's robe. After leaving the sword, picking up a machina weapon, and becoming a "Yevonite", I made my way down the other end of the square and walked casually, not expecting much resistance. And, surprisingly, I met none. But, I did realize that the closer I got to the market place, the more of a chance someone would notice that I was dripping blood onto the white stone sidewalk. I mean, even -I- had noticed it.
Finally, I could see large banners and a large procession of people in the distance, and knew I was heading in the right direction. Even the docks were viewable.
And the docks weren't the same docks. They were full of airships instead of sea faring vessels. Then again, I'd been gone for who knows how long. Spira would be a difference place, even if time had only progressed a few years into the future. I just prayed that I was not too late to find my way home. And my home had become her arms. I just needed to get close enough to be enveloped by them.
As the market place started to get larger from my perspective, I began to jog, dodging who and what I had to. And no one seemed to think a thing of it. I saw no recognition light up in anyone's eyes. But I thought that that could've been due to the fact that the city was not itself anymore, but apart of something else...something I needed to find out about.
Since I seemed to have a somewhat good disguise, I jogged through the market area and made my way towards the stadium. Even the Yevonites along the way didn't double take as I ran. It was amazing to me how lax this little army was; yet it still was able to take down such a large opposing force...
I growled as a shot of pain hit my body, my body obviously tired from the stress I've forced on it. And my jogging wasn't going to help the situation.
Finally, I jogged onto the docks and took a breather. Mind you, I was still getting stared at quite a bit, but no one said a word, so I was happy. Now to think of where I need to go...
"Hey you!"
I stopped catching my breath and stood erect, pivoting my body (and machina) in the direction of the sound.
"Are you going to escort us or not?"
"Huh?" I asked, having no clue as to what the voice was asking or where it was coming from. After a few moments, a large, round man in flannel attire stepped from behind a box.
"What, are all of Nyka's men -this- stupid? You're coming to escort my supply airship to Besaid. I've got a hundred tapestry orders that need to be filled. Get your ass in the ship, now!"
I blinked and then grinned. "Yes, sir," I replied enthusiastically, mocking a salute.
"Eh, screw you too, smart ass."
I laughed and jogged towards the ship, thanking fate, karma, and everything else I could. I was going home.
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A/N: Guess who's back! Finally, I've got this damned thing up! Yes, I know it's been awhile since the last chapter. But this one just was a bit of a doozey for me.
I'd like to start this little A/N off by announcing that this chapter is dedicated to Th' Lady Shadow and her stellar fic (the very same one that sparked my drive to write AtS). Dreams Come True is now a year old! Yup, one year ago today (Jan 25) DCT was born. Happy birthday DCT and congrats to Shad for putting so much time, effort, and talent into it. It's truly been a blessing following DCT for so long. Salute!
And, now for the personal thanks. I'd like to personally thank Shad for making that initial contact before this chapter was even started. Had it not been for your wonderful beta-readings and insight (and distractions ^.~) this chapter wouldn't be up to par. Oh, and I've put so many "Shad references" in this chapter that counting would be futile, but do so if you must. *offers chocolate as a prize!*
Thanks also to you guys, the readers. Without you, AtS would be a lonely fic. Well, time for my nap. I've got college fun fun stuff tomorrow! *blech*
And yes, the title of this chapter is another King Arthur allusion.
PSA/N: Just noticed something in the FFX section. A whole bunch of character insert fics are popping up. Not that there wasn't any before, I'm just saying that in the past few weeks, tons have sprung up from out of nowhere. Some look promising while others need work while still others don't need to be there. Eh, weird shtuff man. Peace.