CHAPTER THREE

WAR COUNSEL

Terra had watched the interview between Edgar and Sabin transpire from a short distance. When it was over, Edgar summoned her with a wave of his hand.

"My dear, this is my brother, Sabin," he said in a tone of disbelief and still with some uneasiness. "Sabin, this is Terra, the…uh…former imperial captain." At the mention of her name, Sabin started, but he shook her hand courteously (though perhaps not without suspicion) and gave a smile, an expression which, as I said before, seemed so alien to that sorrowful face that it gave him a look of worry or concern.

"Pleased to meet you," he said.

"Likewise," said Terra. She could see that, beneath his gloominess and distrustfulness, there was a wise and gentle spirit. She hoped she could get him to trust her soon, since she was so short of friends. Where was Locke?

Sabin glanced uncertainly from Banon, who was still nearby, to Terra and back again. "I have troubling news, Banon. A troop of soldiers is not far—." But Banon cut him off by clearing his throat, which from him sounded like a growl.

Just then Edgar seemed to wake as from a dream. "Terra," he said suddenly, "May I speak to you for a moment?" So saying, he took her elbow and led her away. As soon as they were far enough away, Terra ripped her elbow out of Edgar's grasp and stood with arms crossed, sighing with anger and a sense of injury.

"I'm sorry, my dear," said Edgar. "I'm doing all I can. But you must look at it from Banon's point of view. Although you have no recollection of your past, the rest of the world has trembled at news of the Imperial Terror. Parents scare their children at bedtime with stories of the—forgive me for saying it—the 'Imperial Witch.' Banon has not had the pleasure of your company for months, and he can't be expected to immediately—"

"I know, Edgar," said Terra. "I know. It's just hard for me. I feel like an outcast here, and Locke…." Terra said no more. Edgar was at a loss as to how to comfort her.

Just then there was some noise that drew their attention to the excitement that now surrounded Banon and Sabin. Many Returners had gathered already and more were coming. Finally Banon said in a thunderous voice, "Quiet! Have everyone assembled in the Commodium in one hour. Then we shall take counsel for war." At this the noise died down and the crowd dispersed, some forming smaller groups to speak in hushed voices, others presumably going to fetch those not present. Two signal arrows went up.

"What's happening?" said Terra to Edgar. "Are we going to war?"

"I don't know, my dear," said Edgar. "I have to go speak with Banon. Can you entertain yourself for a while? I would advise that you be packed and ready to go in an hour, whatever happens."

Edgar hurried back while Terra bitterly shuffled her feet and headed for the cave.

The war counsel took place in the Commodium. Terra could hear the deep, sonorous tone of Banon's voice issue from out of the cave, but understood nothing. She sat in the lonesome clearing caressing and being nuzzled by her Chocobo. He was saddled and Terra's packs lay beside. She would not burden him until it was necessary.

She had packed quickly and spent the rest of the hour looking for Locke, but with no success. She sighed.

"I should give you a name," Terra said, petting the bird. "How about 'Arvis'?" The Chocobo squawked appreciatively. "Arvis it is, then."

I won't bother you with the details of her dreary wait.

At the end of the counsel there was a loud cry from the Returners inside the cave and a, "Death to the Empire!" Then men came out en masse. They were all in a hurry. They were mounting Chocobo and leaving, both in groups and singly, armed and disguised, mounted and on foot. Terra scanned the rush of men for Locke. At last she spotted him! He too was in a hurry, but for a brief moment their eyes met. His were sad. She waved to him, but he turned and was again lost in the current. Terra was just about to go after him when Edgar appeared.

"What's going on?" said Terra, still looking for Locke as he spoke.

"I can tell you that our whereabouts have been discovered and Kefka's forces are right now heading this way. A few of the horses of those soldiers that were shot down returned to camp riderless, and since then the imperial scouts in the Sabil Valley have been as numerous as locusts. Sabin brought us this news. Then, this morning he brought a report from one of our archers that a scout found his way into the woods, spotted our hideout, and escaped before he could be caught."

"What are we going to do?"

"Our forces have grown weak. The Empire's spies are everywhere, and they have been weeding us out for a long time. Now is the time to strike, for, desperate as it is, if we do not strike now, we will not have another chance. Banon has sent out his men to contact all the Returners in the free city-states of the world. He's raising an army. Everyone is to gather at Narsha. There we will have one last stand against the Emperor's tyranny. I don't suppose it will be a success, but it is the sort of thing that lives on in song and legend for hundreds of years—"

"Why Narsha?" asked Terra, still looking for Locke, and growing nervous, as the Returners were growing few.

"That is where you come in, my dear. You see, tactically, Narsha is built like a fortress and possesses a network of caves that would be useful for a retreat. But the main reason is that Banon has been forced to make a desperate gamble. You see, my dear, we are putting all our hope in you."

"What do you mean?" said Terra shortly, annoyed by his lengthy speech, and wanting to go look for Locke. What did his eyes mean?

"Well, Banon seems to think that you still have use of your powers. He is also impressed by the fact that the Esper didn't (or couldn't) kill you. If the Empire ever got hold of its power, it is said that the Emperor would gain immortality and usher in a thousand years of darkness. Very apocalyptic stuff, my dear. I am not a religious man myself, but even I tremble at the thought of what might happen if they ever got their hands on it."

"But what does this have to do with me!" said Terra, losing her temper.

"As I said, it is a desperate gamble, but Banon hopes that you, my dear—look how highly he thinks of you already!—that you could speak to the Esper on our behalf. With your…uh…talents, we might be able to make it see our point of view—"

Finally Terra's apprehensiveness overcame her. "Where's Locke? Help me find him!"

Edgar looked at the ground. "He's gone, my dear. He's been sent on urgent assignment to—"

Terra, tears standing in her eyes, grew livid at Edgar, whose speech had delayed her (probably deliberately) and prevented her from speaking to Locke in time, and she fixed him with a look that said, "How could you!" and dashed off in search of Locke. She looked for him at the stables, on the path, in the clearing, and finally in the cave. In the Commodium she finally broke down and cried bitterly at a table, disregarding the men watching nearby.

Terra was angry that Locke had left without saying goodbye, and that they were parted on bad terms. She walked over to the crack in the wall and basked in its sunlight. She could see a one long streak of sky between the rock, like a living brushstroke, and she could see her reflection in the pool at her feet.

All at once it struck her—how childish their fight had been, and how weak and dependent she had become. Looking at her own reflection, which rippled gently and reflected the sun's rays in a marvelous pattern, she saw the queenly nobility which she had first seen in Arvis' mirror long ago. Almost imperceptibly the moment passed (she only noticed it afterwards) in which she resolved to be stronger, to cast aside the dependence on chance and fortune and people which she had slowly been sinking into. She had grown too comfortable. For another woman, perhaps, this resolve would have been born out of injury and disappointment, and it would have rotted the soul, but Terra accepted her self-reproach and strove to be independent not out of malice or vengeance or distrust or fear—no, Terra acted out of noblesse oblige, because in spirit she was queenly and it was time she acted like it. It is strange, but even the temptations of pride were not present in this moment. She looked upon that transaction in her soul with detachment, approving the good and dismissing the bad, willingly but apparently without effort, and if she felt anything at all, it was wonder at how this was possible for a human heart to do without evil and without guilt. But then again, she was not strictly human.