The Balance and Contrast of Yin and Yang

by Frozen Aura

FF6 postgame. The Returners hope to advance the Kingdom of Figaro in the post-magic, post-Kefka world. But strangely-evolved monsters and a decaying ecology aren't so courteous. And the Empire's demise has left a power vacuum all over the southern continent. Heroism may even be questioned. First person narration, from both canon protagonists and OC's. Book one of two.

34. Extensive Depths

Chapter 34: Extensive Depths

So far, I'd been lucky. Lucky in that I recognized the stench of ether in that blanket, which prompted me to take that last stand. Lucky in that Jelmz, a smaller man than my usual jailor, entered my cell with a mask during that last stand. Lucky in that I killed him when no one else was watching. Lucky that I got a meal and hotel room at his expense the previous day.

But I knew such luck would eventually run out. The money in Jelmz's wallet certainly was. Knowing the value of this local currency, I estimated three more filling meals and maybe three more nights at the hotel were within my budget. And eventually, Jelmz's corpse would rot in the cell. It would stink, jailors would remove it, and discover the stiff wasn't mine. I had to bail before then.

Unfortunately, answers to my present location remained elusive. The inn provided nothing that would familiarize outsiders with this mystery place. This was a garrison, not a tourist attraction.

But the scar-necked server at the hotel restaurant said this place had newcomers frequently. There had to be some resources around here that would explain where 'here' truly was.

Presently, I utilized my best option; explore. A major street passed the diner/hotel, and it looked promising. With nothing else to do, I strode down this boulevard, mask on, eyes sharp, studying the surroundings. I also kept a very close eye on the armed locals. Feelings in my gut said gathering facts about them would prove essential.

I blended in well. No one stopped me for any reason. Though I tried listening to the random chat of passing locals, I couldn't gather much from this. I wouldn't try following someone around to hear a conversation's entirety. The likely hood of arousing suspicion through such a means was high, and that would bring a one-way ticket to exposure.

However, it was obvious that passive listening would carry no rewards. I'd have to interact with the locals, all of them possible captors who'd snatched me from my backyard.

So long as a husky, heavyset man with a gravelly voice wasn't around, I could relax, to a degree.

I continued down the main street. Though most of the shops were established buildings, one particular vendor was a dark-haired woman sitting before a tent between two structures. Unlike most passers-by, she didn't carry visible weapons. Taking this as encouragement, I approached the makeshift storefront. Maybe I could decipher this location by observing local goods.

The vending tent sold metal jewelry, earring, bracelets, pendants, and the like. "Ah, have a look young soldier." The middle-aged woman greeted me. "What would you like today?"

I spoke in a gruffer tone than usual, to disguise my voice. The mask helped. "Not really sure. I'm new in town." I maintained that single truth in my charade. "What would you recommend?"

Her eyes twinkled, not unlike the shiny ornaments for sale. "I have just the thing." She turned, sifting through a box behind her. "This design is very important to many of us, myself included. It's a reminder of my heritage." She produced a medallion, placing it on the table for me inspect.

I gazed on the round pendant. It looked like two intertwining hexagons.

Whatever expression I made was concealed by the armored mask.

The world was now a very different place than it had been a moment ago. As if things weren't fucked enough already. Here I thought I'd been reading fiction and legends, after presuming they were factual all those years. This was proof positive that it was factual all along, and I'd been right the first time.

I gulped down hard. Was I there? Why would they give a shit about my father's crimes against Narshe?

Maybe I wasn't there after all. Everyone I'd met so far spoke the SSD (Standardized Sayitheren Dialect). That wouldn't naturally occur in such an isolated place. There was plenty missing from this brand new puzzle, for I only had one piece.

"Do you like it?" asked the shopkeeper.

"It's an impressive design." I could inquire about my location without sounding odd. "Is this design local?"

"Hardly." The woman smiled. "It's imported, so to speak. But it's engraved upon local material."

Okay, I wasn't in that place. Its people were here, along with me…but why? Were they colonizing oversees? That would explain the militarization of this whole town.

But which town was this, and how'd they know about my father? Surely his malice wasn't so far-reaching as to affect them.

"So…you'll take it?" The merchant picked up the engraved medallion, ready to make a sale.

"Thanks but no thanks." I shook my head. "I'm really low on spending money right now." It was left unsaid that I already owned a pendant with that exact same icon. In fact, I'd taken it off and placed it on my nightstand, right before going outside to investigate the noises. I'd seen it in a book and asked a silversmith to replicate it. That book's content was anything but pure make-believe, as I'd just found out.

"Yes, if you're on a tight budget, luxuries like this can be forfeited." The women stared at the engraved image. "For me though, this isn't just aesthetic luxury. It's a sign of who I am, where I came from, and of a golden age long deceased. My nation once shined like a star of enlightenment. But now…" she trailed off, hanging the medallion with other necklaces.

I left the woman at her vending tent and considered her words. The more I learned, the more questions arose. I passed more armed locals, who paid me no attention. My attention was on the little I knew thus far.

I was caught in the middle of something…something big. Having been kidnapped from my own home, I was involved, whether I liked it or not. Like so many Narsheans, these…other people detested my father, and blamed me for his shit more than any Narshean had. These people weren't from around here, at least not all of them were. Maybe there were some natives around.

What did they want? Kidnapping me suggested beyond all doubts they were up to no good, big time. And I'd already deduced they were no bunch of disorganized amateurs.

One thing was for sure; they were dangerous. To learn more, I'd have to interact more.

A few blocks down the street was a warehouse. Two individuals stood outside the large open rollup door. One was another armed local, wielding an axe and shield with armored gloves and boots. But the other person was a bit more esoteric, for this setting anyway. She was a young girl about Relm's age, dressed in black jeans and a purple tunic top, her dark hair in a braid. For any other town, she'd blend in, but here, this girl stood out. Gut instincts on high alert, I felt she was someone of importance. I'd have to speak with her.

I paced closer as the two conversed. The armed man, years older than the teenager, spoke reverently to her. "Yes, I'll see to that. I'll be in touch when that's done." He bowed. "Thank you, Ms. Voldruine."

Ms. Voldruine. I had a name, and from the way he said it, she was just as important as I presumed. Soldiers didn't talk up to civilians, and certainly not minors like her.

As the armed man headed off, the girl noticed me. "Well hello there soldier. Say, are you preoccupied right now?"

"No, hardly. What's up?" This was a chance. She probably had a favor to ask of me, and I could learn more things by doing it.

She gestured at the warehouse entrance. "The stockpiles need sorting inside. The more hands involved, the better. If you're new here, I'll show you how it's done."

I hid the eagerness in my voice. Too much excitement could blow my cover act. "Yes, I'm new around here, but I'll lend a hand, or two. Whatever you need, Ms. Voldruine."

She laughed. "Actually, I'm just following directives from above."

So teenage girls weren't calling the shots around here. At least one thing made sense.

Inside the warehouse were racks and shelves of weaponry. These people were armed and then some. Ms Voldruine led me to a specific row of shelving. Another man was there, standing under a dimmed overhead light, most of his form clad in shadow.

"Here's how it works." The young girl pointed at the shelving. "The factory drops stuff off here and we go through it, sorting out the good shit from the defects. The good stuff gets loaded into a cart for the armory, and the bad gets returned for a tune-up. Pieces are organized by their type, swords, bows, shields, throwing stuff, you get the gist."

"Right." So far, I got enough. My ignorance wasn't showing through…yet.

"Also, we get a few shipments from elsewhere," announced the man in the shadows. "Sometimes, things we unload from the harbor come here, if they don't serve a purpose at the dock houses."

Harbor. I was in a town with a port. This place was coastal.

Ms. Voldruine wheeled up a cart. Inside were slots and hooks for the various weapon types. "Simple enough? Give it a shot."

The job was simple. Most of the weapons I handled were in prime condition, and I reflected on something else. Weapons of the exact same class had two very different aesthetic designs, differing in form but alike in function. Maybe one design style was imported, like the twin hexagon medallion. What did that mean? Was there some treaty or alliance in place between there and here?

I hung small shields upon hooks inside the cart, and various holes in horizontal beams perfectly fit spears, swords, and other shaft weapons. I'd already deduced these people had plans, both major and shady. My captivity was just a facet of those plans. They were fighting someone, or getting prepared for a military conflict obviously. But against who?

The tall man laid bow-guns inside a wagon of his own. "You know soldier, there's no need to keep your mask on all the time. Why not remove it?"

I looked at his tall figure through the mask's eye holes, thinking quickly. "I'd rather not. I've some scars, and wish to forget their origins. Advertising them is not on my to-do list."

The light above him darkened even more. "Damn," said the girl. "I'll flip the switch again." She left. All the lights went out a moment later, then came back on. The guy was revealed to me in lush, highlighted detail.

He was tall, well over six feet in height. His clothing was quite exotic; knee length boots with sweat pants tucked in, a fancy belt with an ornate buckle in front, fur tufts hanging off the sides, and engraved cloths hanging from the front and back, short black gloves without fingers, and a short-sleeved open-front shirt. A chest plate was visible behind. A small talisman hung from his necklace.

"Don't feel like you must hide your real self, my friend." The man placed more crossbows in the cart. "We're all about honesty with one another here."

Would my reluctance to literally unmask myself give me away? I tried stalling some more, without making such a fuss as to invoke suspicion. "Thanks, but I'm good. Maybe later, when I come to terms with it. It's a…psychological thing."

He gazed at me through his almond-shaped eyes, partly obscured his long black hair. "If you say so. Keep the mask on if it makes you feel better."

At that moment, I noticed something else about him. A bright blue jewel was fixed to a circlet on his head, a sapphire cut to a vertical oval. No, not quite. I saw no circlet band. The damned jewel was attached to his forehead somehow. It looked as though a third eye of cobalt blue was centered above his eyebrows. What did this mean? Was it a local custom or style of dress? Or had this too come from that place outside?

I'd have to find out. For now, I had a job to do, a job that might yield more information.

Between the three of us, we filled two whole carts with weaponry. The girl and the Mr. Blue didn't look winded, but I was feeling some level of tiredness. It had been a while since I did this much lifting and bending.

"All packed," announced Mr. Blue, sitting down on a bench. He massaged his sides, as though he felt cramps.

"Something wrong?" asked the young girl.

"Nothing major, just an old battle wound throbbing." The man removed his shirt and unfastened the plate cuirass. Maybe there were scars beneath.

Surprises were found at every corner here.

Not only were there scars on his flesh, the scars were alive. The bulging, grainy patches of skin pulsed like a heartbeat, veins puffing up and shrinking back into the scar tissue. To make matters worse, one particular scar across his naval region lit up, glowing silver, the veins flickering as they pulsated.

Did everyone here have scars that pulsed and glowed? Was this a local phenomenon, or something relevant to that other strange place?

Ms. Voldruine didn't mind the grotesquery. She acted like she'd seen it before, and probably had. It was no anomaly around here.

Mr. Blue rubbed his glowing raw meat before covering the spectacle again. "Like I said, you need not hide your scars. I'm sure they're less dramatic that mine. But whatever."

"Oh. I see you finished the job already." Another voice filled the storage house, that of a woman. "I finished cleaning the toilets quicker than expected, so I thought I'd join you in weapons packing."

"Sure. Why not." Mr. Blue pointed at me. "The new guy looks tuckered out, no offense."

"None taken." I sat on a wooden box and looked at the newcomer, not sure of what I'd find.

She was tall, shorter than Mr. Blue, but taller than the average woman. Terra and Celes weren't even that height. She had long brown hair, and her attire was a mix between casual and exotic; low cut boots, cropped jeans that exposed the lower half of her shins and calves, a midriff tank top, and some metallic jewelry, bracelets, armlets, and a choker necklace. It was a great outfit to show off her toned physique, but certainly not one of battlefield practicality.

And interestingly, she too had an oval gemstone set in her forehead, a vivid purple amethyst. But I didn't see any glittering, pulsating scars on her flesh, and her clothes revealed plenty of skin.

But when she got closer where the light was more intense, I wondered if Mr. Blue's light-up animate scars were less freakish. At least those could be covered up. Ms. Purple's entire skin was a surrealistic visual. Her flesh was the color of a tombstone, a faded gray. And her eyes were even more disturbing. They were solid gold, void of any optical features, and they were very reflective.

Did everyone with a forehead jewel have some physical abnormality? What else did these jewels signify?

Happily, Mr. Blue and Ms. Purple left my confused company, taking the loaded weapon carts and pushing them off to some other place. I didn't recall where, but was glad the two gem-headed…beings had left my presence. What were they?

"You don't look so well." I still had company here in the storehouse. The teenage Ms. Voldruine observed my state. Maybe I was more disoriented from the others' visual appearances than I realized. The girl didn't bat an eye at the glowing scars and grayed-out flesh, but my confusion at such could expose me.

Fortunately, I had an excuse, and it was true. "I'm just tired. It's been a long time since I had such a workout."

"Maybe you should rest," suggested the girl. "If you're new here, you're just as new to happenings around these parts." She pulled something from her back jeans pocket, notes of some kind, perhaps. After scanning the paper, she looked up. "I'd chat more, but I must be off. It's rather eventful at the moment."

"Tell me about it," I agreed without knowing what she really meant. They were up to something, more than likely.

Ms. Voldruine waved farewell and left the warehouse. More troops outside greeted her as such. She was important, and quite popular around here.

I wondered, maybe I should talk with her again. Being 'new in town', she might agree to give me a little tour of this place. Doing such might clue me in about where this town was. I'd have to find the girl once more, but as she was quite popular, searching could be easier than expected. Someone could help me track her down if I asked. Maybe she'd recall me from this warehouse, but if she didn't, I'd blend in even more.

Friendly as these people could be, I had no doubts of their sinister intentions. They presumed I was one of them, not the enemy they'd somehow kidnapped and held in a lightless jail cell, intent on chocking with ether fumes.

The sooner I got out of here, the better. 'Touring' this place would me bring a step closer to that goal, a huge step. I'd just have to brace myself for possible encounters with more gem headed freaks, and maybe a heavyset man with a gruff, raspy voice.

change in s & n

More than half a year had passed since the giant leech wrought destruction in Cid's laboratory. Though the place was hardly restored, the Doctor had cleaned it up enough to conduct smaller, less complicated research experiments. He was doing one right now.

Charise had organized the team of geologists and hydrologists, who collected dirt samples from the farming community in the capital's northeastern sector. Unable to fully analyze the samples on the spot, the team dropped them off at Cid's moderately polished lab facility.

Along with a hydrology specialist, the ex-imperial researcher scanned the dirt samples, shifting them around beneath a microscope, rattling off observations in a scientific jargon.

Cid looked up from the scope. "It would seem true."

"What's true?" I asked, though I could guess what he meant.

"King Edgar, this soil is dry as the local farmers claimed. For one reason or another, water is simply not flowing to this region of town." Cid tapped the other dirt samples, all of them encased in jars.

So the angry farmer was right. I rolled my eyes at no one in particular. The soil was drying out for some reason, much quicker than it had in the past, even during this time of year. That meant if the plumbing didn't reach the farming districts soon enough, there'd no longer be a farming district at all.

The plumbing progressed at the exact same speed as before. I supplied enough of the tax with my own personal savings to keep the guild workers happy. The lines were almost to the agriculture center. But now, that steady pace didn't seem adequate enough.

My fist tightened, then shook, not rage but in nervous angst. Yet another trial had obstructed my path, and this one could easily render all my previous efforts moot. Why was the soil drying out in the farming community? And was it confined to that region alone? If this new happening could unfold in the farm district, it could surely happen elsewhere in town. What would that mean?

And knowing how much went wrong already, I had the question pre-planned.

What next? So many setbacks had come by now, ones I'd never imagined.

The solution of re-plumbing remained. The whole town needed an improved waterworks system, especially the agricultural area. Now, having learned the soil was rapidly drying out, this importance had increased tenfold. Completing the plumbing add-ons was more essential than ever.

The hydrologist looked up from the microscope. "Is that all you need of me, Highness?"

"Yes. You've answered my question." My voice carried no hint of the worries in my mind. "If you've other business, feel free to go about it."

"By the way King Edgar, the new military invention is almost ready for testing." Cid raised his eyebrows. In a different setting, I'd have praised him and his weapon dev team, but my head was elsewhere, on this newly discovered soil deficiency, and the next possible hindrance to the plumbing process.

"Your Majesty. I found you." It was the rugged voice of Paul Edderbricht. The Lieutenant approached with a tense look on his face. "Sire, you are wanted at the castle, immediately. I suggest your bring a voice amplifier."

Once again, I was thrown for a loop. "What? Why?"

Paul gestured to the lab exit. "You'll see, when we get there."

change in s

They stood in rows, a crowd before the southern entrance to my castle, blocking off that portion of Citadel Boulevard with their numbers, their faces twisted into expressions of resentment.

I gulped down hard, facing the gathered mob of city residents through a crack between the doors. Mounted soldiers with pikes walked back and fourth, and combat walker units made their presence known. Still, the civilians weren't backing down.

Cyan came to my side. "King Edgar, they wish to speak with you. How much longer will you delay the inevitable?"

Behind him stood my wife. "Dear, the longer you wait, the more volatile they'll become."

"I know, and I'm not holding out on purpose. I just…" Words escaped me for a moment or two. "What do I say to them?"

"The truth, Sire. What else?" Chancellor Pierre's answer was simple, much simpler than my inner dilemma.

But what else could I do? I was above and beyond lying to my people, even if their faith in me was decreasing. I'd told nothing but the full complete truth when addressing previous concerns, and these appeals failed miserably. I looked through the closed doors again. All that blocked the mob from storming up the front stairs was a line of shielded, armored troops. I recognized Rodney Hayne as one of them, and Jerom Frennard was one of the mounted soldiers, as was Deanne Sarholme. No electrode rods or tears gas bombs had been unleashed…yet.

"If you're going to speak with them Your Highness, it must be now." Paul motioned outside. If I waited, the crowd would become unruly, necessitating electrodes and gas bombs. My presence was all that could keep such from happening.

I exchanged glances with my wife, the Chancellor, the General, and the Lieutenant. "Very well. I'm going out."

Cyan took one door, Paul took the other, and the doors were pulled open. I was now on full display for the gathered protestors. Their voiced immediately doubled in volume. The shield wall increased their efforts, pushing back the amassed locals. With a deep breath, I stepped forward, voice amplifier in hand.

The voices blurred against one another so much, individual words were lost. However, signage carried by many of the gathered locals illustrated their worries clear enough. Concerned farmers weren't the only people swarming the wide stairs. Various other townsfolk were present, and their worries didn't pertain to their professions. These concerns were the very thing I feared the most, and suspected ever since the tax intake began dropping; financial worries.

Only my voice and words could silence the disorderly shouts and yelling. I flicked a switch on the voice amplifier and raised it to my lips. "People of Figaro City, I fully understand your concerns. I know the construction of this new plumbing system has been anything but fast and simple. I should know more than any of you, for I'm the one in charge of it." The voice cacophony lowered some. "Rest assured, you can be grateful such a responsibility doesn't rest on your shoulders." I did not speak with envy, but with honesty, a truth to show my despairing subjects that their glass wasn't totally empty.

Maybe some considered these words, as the crowd remained silent. I embellished my appeal. "Please understand, this project is nearing completion. The taxation will be null once all the new pipes are in place and covered up. I know it's been a long-standing financial burden for you, to pay the increasingly high waterworks tax," I said empathetically.

Not all were sold on this honesty. "King Edgar, I had to forfeit my teenage son's graduation presents to pay your water bill!" screamed a woman angrily. "And you still ask that I pay MORE!"

A younger man further down voiced his own frustrations. "I've got a kid coming in a few weeks, and that's a small fortune by itself. I can't afford both your tax and child care. It's one or the other, Your Majesty." When he finished, the crowd erupted once more. Anyone with money problems was surely unloading them on the perceived cause; me.

Until now, I'd concealed my inner turmoil from the general public. Showing weakness so openly would taint my reputation. But now, with my credibility hanging in the balance already, withholding this truth might not make any difference. Maybe sharing it would ease some of the mistrust. "People, your concerns are normal and expected. I fully relate. Paying this enormous tax is burdensome for you all. I know this because it's been a great burden upon me to impose it. We're all in the same boat."

That was it. I withheld no more. The public knew I was no less vulnerable than them, despite my riches and regal stature. I was no supernatural force immune to doubts and fears. My subjects understood now that I had plenty of both.

But that was probably insignificant to them right now. Another man raised his fist. "You've said that before. Why should we believe you now?" More people echoed his question, and shield carriers pushed forward, repelling the doubtful public.

More shouts filled the wide street, echoing off the castle walls. I gazed at the crowd without eyeing any one face in particular. That final straw was close at hand. If I still had anyone's trust, I'd not have it much longer.

Suddenly, a person pushed past the shield wall, the troops providing no resistance. A quick gaze at this person explained why. It was Jerom, dismounted from his chocobo. The Colonel leaned in close to my ear. "King Edgar, we must disperse this crowd. I got reports of another group gathering just blocks from here, a group of your most staunch supporters, and they're heading this way."

"Damn." One didn't need a royal education like mine to foresee the inevitable results. Jerom spoke of obsessively devout believers in my name. Such people would have no respect for the skeptics gathered before me, and the skeptics would not back down. My people would be at one another's throats, the root of the conflict being my character. And my duty was to avoid taking sides.

Jerom saw things my way. We had to break up this crowd, to diffuse any potential mayhem before it started. I wouldn't let myself envision what would transpire if the two groups met face-to-face. "Do it Colonel. We must keep the peace." Granting him such authorization, I gave him the voice amplifier.

"People, you've had your moment here." The Colonel's voice boomed naturally, and the amp multiplied the authority in it. "You must leave these castle grounds now! If you do not, you'll be arrested and removed by force." Shield carriers drew their electrode batons, and the combat walker units readied their gas bomb launchers, sure signs the army wasn't bluffing.

I cast a somber look at the Colonel. We could not bluff. Public order depended on our actions. However, using such equipment on my own people was something I wanted to avoid at all costs. Such action was a staple for Gestahlian types. If I ever stooped to that level…

Somehow, while I'd been lost in thought, the amassed mob thinned out. The shouting lost its volume, as there were fewer people to create noise. The soldiers were escorting away those who wouldn't leave on their own.

I sighed. A clash between skeptics and believers in my name had been averted, and the presence of said believers proved that some people still sang my praises. But the skeptical crowd was growing. This was only their first organized activity. There would surely be more. I'd have to prepare accordingly…if I could.

No, I had to. There was no other option. Even with two missing friends and an elusive breed of monsters to search out, keeping the peace within this capital was an absolute essential. I couldn't finish the town's new piping network only to watch the city fall into chaos, thus rendering the plumbing accomplishment void.

change in s & n

"Ms. Voldruine?" repeated another masked soldier. My headgear was not unique in the slightest. "Sorry man, but I don't where she's at."

"It's all good," I said without complaint. At least she was well-known. My asking for her didn't sound suspicious. "I'll manage. Thanks."

The other man went about his business, pushing a huge cart down the block, leaving me to myself on the street corner. After having dinner at the inn's restaurant again, I set out looking for the young girl. Without her presence, exploration was the best option. I'd do more of it.

Instead of going back to the weapon warehouse, I went in a different direction. Most of the buildings along this stretch of road were apartments and smaller businesses. After several blocks I found what looked more promising, a market plaza.

Unlike the medallion merchant from earlier, this place was quite well established. All the stores were inside buildings here, not in carts or vending tents. Curiously, a large pile of crates was stacked before an alleyway entrance. Some locals placed a few more containers on the package tower before heading back to the storefronts. Another pair of hands reached from inside the alley and removed a crate from the pile. They were stocking a load to be moved elsewhere in town. Having seen such at the arsenal warehouse, this was my best guess. I'd explore this.

As I neared the alleyway, a rowdy male voice spoke from within. "Sweet. All this shit to load up. I might work up a sweat. Not that it matters. It's bath night."

"Oh, that time of the month already? Shit. Time flies," came a second voice, one that held familiarity, but from where, and when? The second man voiced business-like comments next. "Just keep the pile organized when you load the shit on the wagon. I'll check the receiving yard. See you there."

This second voice was utterly hoarse and gruff. Was it…maybe…

I tensed up and held my breath. That voice was unique, and could very well belong to my regular jailor, the one who Jelmz replaced the day before. Maybe now I could observe that heavyset, raspy tormentor in the daylight. Half of me didn't want to though. It might distract me and blow my cover.

Regardless of my wants, footsteps grew distant. The raspy man was leaving, heading away from my position. Our paths wouldn't cross…for now. The other man remained in the alleyway. I could hear his mumbling and the bumps of crates as he stacked them alongside one another.

And there were plenty of crates. I counted at least twenty, and those were just the visible ones. What was inside them? Where were they going? What was the purpose of transporting so many boxes? To answer these questions, my best option was to converse with the man around the building corner. My mask still in place, I stepped up to greet him and offer a hand.

Maybe I should've expected something like this. Mr. Blue's glowing, pulsating scars and Ms. Purple's grey flesh and gold eyes could've foreshadowed this. At least those two were primarily humanoid.

The latest asset in freaksville had yellow skin much like a banana peel, and his dark brown hair was wound into a braid. His arms and chest were carved from sheer muscle, and his nails were more like claws. His teeth were plenty sharp as well. Two horns jutted slightly outwards then steeply upwards from his forehead. His garb was simple; armored wrist cuffs and bicep rings, a chain necklace, and spiked shoulder plates. His body armor was more intricate, consisting of a half-plate covering his back and two straps that formed as X upon his chest. At the X's midpoint was a domed circular plate.

And this was just his upper body. His lower half was even more surreal. Thick fur surrounded his waist and pelvic region, and his legs really took the cake. Not two but four muscled limbs stuck out from the coarse hair mass, each with two claw-like toes on the end. Their organic surface looked reptilian but their movement patterns were more insect-like. The front legs bent forwards, and the rear legs bent backwards. Additionally, all the legs could be articulated to the side, like a spider's or locust's. Such a being like this would have tremendous leaping and stomping abilities.

The inevitable happened. While I took in the freak's appearance, he noticed me standing there. "Howdy do soldier?" His friendly greeting hardly jibed with his visual appearance. He was shorter than me, as his legs were all bent, but I didn't feel like the bigger man, even if I was the actual man.

But, at least one feature about this thing made sense. An oval gemstone was fixed to his forehead between the upward curving horns, this one a vivid green emerald that reminded me of Terra's eyes. Those were a much more pleasant sight than this…Mr. Green Thing before me.

Since he'd addressed me, I had to respond. "Hi. That's a lot of boxes you've got here." I pointed at the crate mountain. Any distraction was welcome. "What's in all these containers?"

"Essentials." The weird creature grabbed a stack of two crates and piled them into a wide, deep handcart. "Stuff you don't leave home without."

"Right." Whatever the contents, Mr. Green Thing stressed their importance. They were for something big, but I still didn't know what. It was something obvious to the locals, and if I asked the question, I'd lose my cover. I'd been thinking like that ever since killing Jelmz and taking his gear. Paranoid was a fitting term, and looking at the quadruped Mr. Green Thing loading boxes into the wagon, my nerves were getting another dose of shock treatment.

"So, are you gonna do something, or just stand there?" This thing picked up on my inactivity. I suddenly felt more winded than I'd been all day.

"I'm tired. I almost worked up a sweat this afternoon, and I'm not used to all this…excitement." Again, I was truthful.

"Suit yourself." The creature didn't argue. "Maybe you should go home."

'Home' was the inn, for now. My real house was in Narshe. Mere homesickness was preferable to this…confused paranoia. I'd been running on that ever since waking up in the dark jail cell. And seeing this thing before me suggested freaksville had plenty more oddities to throw my way. Of course, no one else saw it in those terms. This being was in clear sight of many people, and not one batted an eye. He was a regular.

"You know, I'll take up that idea." With legs weak and my head spinning, it was time for bed, early though it was. Without a word, I left the thing to his cart-filling task and went back to the inn.

I had enough money for a couple more days. But eventually I'd have to leave. Maybe I could try living on the streets of this armed villa. If it was indeed a garrison, militarized locals would patrol the streets at all hours of the day and night. I could pass as one of them, but only for so long. I'd need sleep sooner or later.

Now wasn't the time for brainstorming. I'd learned enough and met plenty of new…acquaintances for the day. Tomorrow would be the time for planning my next move. I entered the hotel without hassle. After closing the door and locking it with all three bolts, I pulled the curtains. Solitude was golden.

change in s & n

After a filling breakfast, I left Quildern and headed for the capital. Locke was in charge of our shop for today. He needed a suitable diversion from all his ramblings, and so did I. His 'theories' about Joe were unbelievable. Did Locke even believe such outwardly scenarios?

Maybe he didn't. I perhaps took him more seriously than he took himself. He'd been very stressed as of late, worrying about the consequences of Edgar's taxation, and about Umaro and Leonard missing. Maybe his ramblings were just a way to let off steam and calm down. Locke's observations were true, but there was no proof of what they (according to him) suggested.

The train sped through Figaro City. I'd start my day in the town with a visit to the dojo. When the railcar stopped along the town's northern edge, I disembarked and headed for Sabin's training hall. I figured I'd see Relm or Gau inside.

I was right, the young man was wrestling with the blitz master, and the girl sat on a bench watching them, Interceptor curled up at her feet. But there was something else. Next to Relm were two large travelling bags on the floor. Usually, the teens brought nothing larger than their standard knapsacks.

"Relm. What's up?" I took a seat next to the Thamasan girl. "What's with the bags? Are you travelling?"

"Hi Celes." Relm winked, averting her eyes from the grappling demo. "You could say that. Gau and I might do a little travelling," she paused intently "to a new place of residence."

"Huh? What do you mean?" I tried grasping her implications. She and Gau had lived in the student dorms of their youth academy for the past three years, ever since the school had been established. Edgar personally oversaw their enrollment.

Relm reached down to stroke the dog, who gave me a single glance as he rolled over. "The academy's closing its dorms for the rest of the summer."

I was speechless, and almost fell off my seat. "Why?"

"Summertime is not essential to the school program. Some students go home for that season. And since the academy needs tax funding to stay open and house students during that time, it's another cost to the average taxpayer. Thus…"

"Wait a moment!" I blurted out, grasping her words. "Are you saying the dorms are closing down because tax money is scarce and should fund the plumbing project instead of student housing?"

"The dorms also use lots of water, for the bathrooms and showers. Water is also scarce right now. The school admin believes the dorms less of a necessity than the farms and what not, and are giving up their share to provide the farms an extra boost." Relm shrugged. "So to answer your question, yes. The school's closing down so the tax money and water can be better used elsewhere."

"For now, Marielle and I have agreed to offer lodging." Sabin stood up from his kneeling stance. "Our cottage is not extravagant, but it's cozy and clean enough for their liking."

"That's good news." I tried sounding positive. Maybe this wouldn't be a setback. Relm said that summer school wasn't mandatory, and it would allow tax money and water to go where it counted most. Considering all the trials Edgar faced up till now, this was almost nothing.

Sabin and Gau continued their drill, until Sabin pointed at the clock. "Ten minutes until lunchtime. I think we can call it a day."

"Right." Gau wiped his face. "I'm getting hungry."

"Me too." Relm rubbed her stomach. "Hey Celes. Wanna join us for chow?"

"Why not? I'm here, and your lunch talk has wet my appetite."

The teens left their bags in the dojo. They'd come back later in the day to claim their luggage. Interceptor was agreeable to staying in the dojo yard while Relm was out. Sabin left for business elsewhere in town, like purchasing guest room supplies for his new 'roommates'.

The teenagers and I caught a chocobo carriage and rode south along a major street. A few miles down was a bakery. Though it was crowded inside during this lunch hour, there were vacant outdoor tables. We took seats there upon ordering.

As we finished up our lunch, we saw two men sitting on a bench near the street corner. They were talking about something, though I couldn't make out their words. I was about to leave the patio, until one of them, a redhead, stood forcefully and screamed to his partner. "Fuck that!"

The second man, a blonde, stood slowly. "Is that your attitude now? Suddenly I'm the asshole for trying to help this town through a crisis?"

We eyed the spectacle. "What do you supposed this is about?" Gau cringed at the arguing townspeople.

"Take a wild guess." Relm's voice was edgy, though less sharp than the feuding locals'. "What happened the last time we saw citizens arguing like so?"

I bit my lip. The last time I'd been the unwilling audience to such was in the craft supply store, overhearing a couple clash about Edgar's taxation policies. A pit welled up in my stomach. "Here it comes."

The blonde man scowled at the redhead. "We should sacrifice that for the good King. It's our civic duty as Figaroan citizens. You're just too self-centered to look beyond your petty wants."

"Petty wants?" snapped the redhead. "This is our company we're talking about, our business. And how many others have sacrificed bits of their life to his cause? What's that accomplished? Nothing!"

He was about to leave, but the other man grabbed his wrist and pulled him back. "That's not true!" he nearly shouted. "He's made progress since enforcing the relinquish-excess-water policy. With our contribution, we can help that much more."

"Forget it." The first man yanked his hand free. "I didn't come to this city to watch its ruler trip on his own feat while charging us out the ass for it, and I'm done waiting around for Edgar's next 'development'."

He pressed the other man's button. "THAT'S KING EDGAR, you disrespectful shit! He runs this nation, and you will address him with the proper reverence. Do you understand?"

"No," snapped the red-haired man. "I don't understand how someone so educated can be so incompetent. Our money's been thrown into the furnace while he gorges on his own private water supply in that safe castle of his, asking us to make 'yet another sacrifice'. And it's to improve a city he can't even manage. You know what? Consider this my resignation. Today, I quit. I'm leaving town."

"You stingy bastard. You'd better not leave this town. We have a job to do." The blonde man reached for the other man's arm, but the redhead pushed the grabbing hand aside with force.

"What are you, a fuckin' customs agent now? You can't stop me. Why don't you just stay here and mind your little civic duty. Go ahead and give up your life savings to the king of the klutzes. And while you're at it, give up your nut sack too."

"Son of a bitch," growled Relm, almost drowned out by the two men some thirty feet away. Faces appeared in the windows of nearby establishments. The teenage girl looked at me. "Celes, I think it's time we intervened. Terra discouraged that last time, but I hope you're more sensible."

Locke wasn't the only Returner who'd zealously back Edgar on every detail, even if the King himself didn't wish it. Relm was heading down that path, and she sought to drag me along.

"Relm, I am sensible." I placed my hands on her shoulders, standing between her and the argument beyond. "Terra was right. This is not our conflict. I don't live here, and you're not paying tax money. We have no say in what happens on this matter. And Edgar wants it that way. He'd never drag us into his battles that don't concern us. He wouldn't want us intervening here."

The angst-filled girl stared at me, then at Gau. The boy kept a neutral face, taking neither her side nor mine. Maybe if he set the example, she'd take hint.

"We're friends with the King of Figaro Celes, comrades-in-arms." Relm looked up. "If you won't do what's necessary, I will." Her hand pushed mine away.

"Relm, don't! Relm!" But the girl had already shoved past me, moving too fast for me to grab her and pull her back.

The next words from her mouth announced her decision. "Hey redhead! Why don't you try killing magical dragons and whatnot? No 'king of klutzes' could accomplish that. You owe your very life to what King Edgar pulled off more than three and half years ago."

For a second, the skeptical man was caught off guard. "A school girl?" he stammered. "What the hell's a school girl doing in this affair? You don't pay obscene amounts of tax money to fund the King's ineptitude."

"I'm no regular school girl!" Relm spat. "I'm Relm Arrowny of the Returners, and friends of the King. Show him credit and watch your mouth." Her eyes locked a glare on the man, and I rushed over, just in case she moved beyond harsh words.

"Oh, real class act," snorted the red-haired man into blonde's face. "Using the King's closest chums to back your argument. You're so credible motherfucker."

Relm's eyes narrowed. "Grab her Gau, if she explodes," I whispered to the young man. I was ready to grip the girl's wrist if she dashed for the two men.

Still, she only used words for now. "I'm not doing it for your partner!" she almost screamed, furious at being downplayed. "I'm doing it for the King!" Sensing us beside her, the raging Thamasan back-stepped a few paces.

"You will not leave this town!" snarled the blonde man, grabbing at the redhead's arm once more.

"DON'T TOUCH ME YOU PRICK!" The first man jerked his arm away, and in one smooth motion, swung his elbow upwards into the second man's jaw. The blonde was sent reeling, but regained himself and charged his companion. The two fell upon the wooden bench, which broke under their combined weight.

Relm took a step forward, before I grabbed her wrist and yanked her back. "What is the matter with you?" As various passers-by shouted in response to the street fight, I had to raise my own voice. "Relm, this is none of our business."

"He's not just insulting Edgar, he's trying to commit tax evasion," Relm argued. "That's a crime, in Edgar's own words. We can't tolerate that."

"Relm, we're not the law in Figaro. There are troops and peacekeepers for that." Speaking of them, mounted soldiers appeared, pushing through the crowd. Infantry troops pulled the feuding workers apart, placing them both in shackles while the public looked on. "See that? It's their job, not ours."

Relm watched as both men were placed in different wagons. "Celes, we have to stick up for Edgar. We're his friends. It's what we do. How would he feel if he saw you passively sitting on the sidelines, doing nothing when his reputation's at stake?"

Her tone wasn't much different than Locke's when he'd asked that same question. The same answer was the best. "Edgar would feel happy knowing we weren't involving ourselves in affairs that don't concern us."

Would Relm understand? She was fifteen years younger than Locke, but less obsessive, and perhaps more open to giving up whatever tendencies she might've held. She gazed down and took a deep breath as soldiers dispersed the crowd. Gau held the young girl's hand for comfort.

For now, I succeeded. Relm said nothing more about this topic, and we went about business in town. But she was thinking about it to some degree, I could tell. I had questions of my own. Now that Edgar's subjects had finally come to blows over his credibility, what was next?

Maybe I didn't want an answer.

change in s & n

"Enemies coming to our way," Chithagu rasped.

"Yes, they are, and we're bracing for their arrival. We'll give a traditional Nyufalng welcoming," I joked.

The opposition had made its move. Knowing an outside entity had triggered revolts within his domain, Sindreo Geminsa ordered the remains of his followers to march east. But there was an extra catch; The Duke himself was leading this march, instilling faith in his remaining believers to give their all and crush this enigmatic threat.

We'd fucked with his hubris, just as we intended. This march was not surprising in the least. Preparations were underway, and not just here in Albrook's capital. The mechanics at the aero-dome had built additional air vessels for rapid transport of larger parties. Just before dawn, a strike force piled into said airships and headed west. The other four Pung Thoshidai were among its members. Their objective was to launch a series of hit-and-run guerrilla attacks on this last unit of Duke-lovers before they left Marandan territory, starting the assault as early as possible. The patrols guarding Maranda's eastern edge had all been pulled back to the capital, to quell the riots we set off two days back.

Our team would strike the enemy and retreat to the airships, luring the Duke and his minions closer to our presence, stopping and attacking a short time later, repeating the method with a different strategy. By the time the Duke's forces reached Albrook, nearly half of them would be dead, if not more. This was a battle we intended to win.

Strike your enemy at their weakest point, strike when they do not expect it, strike when their backs are turned, hit them with a variety of methods at once. Battles aren't won with polite, chivalrous measures. They are lost from of such practices.

Chithagu and I stayed here, prepping for the Duke's arrival. He himself was not a target of the guerrilla party. Their job was to weaken his forces and lure him here, away from any potential support and resources. Albrooker land would be Sindreo Geminsa's grave.

Bright lights whizzed past as we sped through the underground railway tunnel. The railcar slowed to a stop, and the two soldiers manning it for the hour unlatched the doors for us. We were hauling yet another cache of armor to the palace, masks, breastplates, boots, plated vests, neck guards, gauntlets, you name it. I pushed a wagon of protective gear out onto the boarding platform, with Chithagu close behind me, carrying a second load on his back. As the rail car shut its doors and went on its route, I pushed the cart into a lift. While Chithagu was physically able to carry his load up the stairs, he chose to ride with me.

The palace district was just beyond the stairwell. We pushed our loads down the sidewalk and through the gates, en route to the palace armory. Inside the weapon storage was Ruqojjen, his favored daukaisna in his hands. The jagged sword blade sliced the air with precision and speed. He noticed us while slashing in a wide circle. "Fantastic, more upgraded gear for the showdown."

"Tell me about it." I found the nearest shelf and began unloading the wagon's contents. "We've been shuttling back and forth all morning, filling this place with armor caches."

"Monotonous," said Chithagu, using a lengthy word I thought was beyond him. He too was getting bored of the repetition.

Still, I wasn't complaining. I had a task and understood its purpose. "I'm doing my part," I acknowledged "but I'm kinda restless. I'd like to know what's happening on the frontlines."

Ruqojjen spun the long sword in his right hand. "Ajalni, funny you should mention that. Not fifteen minutes ago we got a radio message from those in the field."

I paused in the midst of shelving a mail cuirass. "Oh? What's up?"

"Everything's going as we envisioned, if not better," said the Nyufalng chief, shuffling back and thrusting forward, an evade-and-strike combination. "The Duke's goons never saw the first ambush coming. Our parties attacked from different sides of the Duke's camp. While one group got their attention, another group struck from behind. When they learned our battle plan, our side split, and the Duke's force gave chase. No casualties on our side yet, though we've suffered quite a few injuries, major ones."

"And?" I inquired, filling the shelf with armor vests and protective masks. His voice implied a response to this problem.

"All the injured were gathered into a single air vessel." The Shenthaxa gripped his weapon in a side stance. "They're coming back to heal up and maybe get some augments, then go back out to resume the skirmishes. Baokiydu's with them. He'll provide more detailed updates when he gets here. Yithadri's expecting the wounded arrivals."

I filled another rack with gauntlets and armored cuffs. "Sounds like you're all on top of each matter."

He slashed downwards and crouched, then stabbed upwards with a leap. "As we should be, and you can help transport the energy suppliers for the augmentations."

I stared at the two latest armor loads. My cart was almost empty, but Chithagu's was still full, and he wouldn't unload them, let alone arrange them properly. Such was beyond his mind. "Sure, but I have to eat first." My stomach growled to emphasize this. "I'll get some grub when I finish these two loads."

"Right. You can't wage war on an empty stomach." The daukaisna was swung about in more sideways motions. "In fact, make these your last loads, then wait here for Baokiydu."

"Don't forget lunch," I joked, shelving protective boots. Ruqojjen continued his swordplay drill, and I noticed the daukaisna's blade was glowing. His spirit energy was filling the weapon. This could only suggest one thing. "Getting ready for the dual?"

When he looked at me, his eyes were aglow with a yellowy green radiance. "The Duke's army is formidable, but the Duke alone also poses a threat. Yes, I plan on engaging him personally. I've been preparing for the last few days." The glowing blade left a trail of lime green brilliance as he swung it about. "He's surely been prepping for this assault, so it's rational that I do likewise, charging my essence as much as possible."

"A wise plan, as usual." I pulled more armor pieces from my wagon and shelved the accordingly. If there was one person in the Nyufalng who could best Duke Sindreo Geminsa in a swordfight, it was the chief himself. The Pung Thoshidai could take him on, but with his army swarming our turf, their hands would be full. Besides, powerful though they were, the Pung Thoshidai owed their abilities to Ruqojjen and Yithadri. Those two personally selected which of the Nyufalng would bear the Pirusymn stones, and played a role in the stones' very creation. Unlike the Nyufalng's greatest augmentation recipients, Ruqojjen and Yithadri didn't need Pirusymn stones to kick major ass.

Before long, my cart was empty. I started unloading Chithagu's, while he just squatted and made noises. The High Shenthaxa did more exercises, drills that used footwork to increase the reach and power of sword strikes. While hanging armor bracelets on shelf hooks, I thought of one more angle. "Did the major report in?"

"No, but I'm not surprised." The daukaisna was swung upward, with Ruqojjen throwing a side kick afterwards. "If he didn't join the ambush party, he's preoccupied here."

"Got it." The Major was tasked with a certain duty. He'd given a brief progress update two days back, but hadn't checked in since. There was no hurry, since the Duke's approach was the prime objective right now. After writing Sindreo Geminsa's epitaph in blood, feces, and urine, we could inspect that other matter in full.

change in s & n

The snow crunched beneath my boots, and my breath created mist in the cold hilltop air. I looked about the snowfield. Not quite a month ago, Leonard and I sat down in this very permafrost, and I finally told him the secret of my hybrid ancestry. It was a joyful experience.

But now, I was here for a much different purpose, to get answers that we desperately sought. Maybe I'd learn nothing from this, but with so few options, there was nothing to lose. When I last spoke with Mog, he said Umaro might've come to these caves in the northern hills. There was no guarantee I'd find the yeti, but as long as there were options available, I'd pursue them.

After the snowfield with various rock formations, a single bridge led to the precipice. The snow was light this time of year, and plenty of rock outcroppings were reachable. I used them to scale down the cliff surface and access 'Umaro's cave', as we called it. We'd first encountered the yeti here.

Unlike the caverns within Narshe, this cave was not a functional mine, not now at least. Old rail tracks and scaffolds described a previous mining operation that was long shut down. The metal beams and panels were covered with fungus, and some of them had rusted. However, there were functional lights, dim as they were. I'd brought my own flashlight, in case they gave out.

There was no map display in this abandoned mine, but it was much smaller than the working mines, and I'd memorized the layout. There were few forks in the main path, and most of them dead-ended or looped back around shortly after branching off. I walked through the cave's major hallway. "Umaro?" I called, my voiced echoing off the stone ceiling above. I got no answer. After two more corners, I tried again. "Umaro, are you here? It's me, Terra." Again I got no reply, but wasn't giving up just yet. I still had a few more chambers to search.

The light was getting dimmer as I advanced, but I could still see enough to avoid using the flashlight. As I descended a ramp, I heard some rustling noises echoing in the distance. Was that him? Getting closer, mumbles became audible. These sounds fit with Umaro's character, but I had to be sure.

Suddenly, as I neared a corner, a bright light flashed on, and from that brilliance came a shadow. The dark form stretched out on the ground before me. Maybe I'd found him. "Umaro? Is that you? It's Terra."

I got no answer, not a verbal one at least. But the figure reacted to my words. Its shadow turned, and took off running, the light moving with it. Footsteps echoed, too light and fast to be the yeti's. This wasn't Umaro.

I had but one second to make a decision. I'd almost come face-to-face with someone or something. The other party knew of my presence and didn't want to be found. Why?

My feet took off before I concluded my thoughts, carrying me after the echoing steps ahead. I knew this cave's structure, and wasn't about to get lost. This familiarity was advantageous, though I was chasing an unknown entity. That edge wasn't on my side.

Though I wasn't carrying any weapons, an unarmed blitz move would suffice if this person or thing became hostile. For the moment, I kept an Aurashield ready.

The dim lights filled the surroundings, but not enough to illuminate my company. Whatever it was, it stayed just beyond my sight, using the curved hallways to hide itself. Adrenaline raced, but I maintained a vibe of caution. The 'long-spike monster' that killed a man in the city's caves hadn't slipped my mind. I could very well be chasing that offending creature.

Both our footsteps echoed throughout the cavern hallway. I was braced for confrontation. I kept pace with this thing, and anticipated cornering it…until I recalled a key feature of this cave. Lower hallways like this one led outside into the open gorge behind the mountains. This entity could very well escape!

Around the next corner, this was confirmed. Brilliant light flooded the rock hallway, sunlight from outside. The thing's shadow was visible once more. I tried getting a glimpse of its shape before it exited the cave…and my field of vision.

Was it…humanoid?

Then it was gone. I reached the cave exit only to find the rough chasm floor and the trees beyond. I'd lost the trail. Outside, a few stones rained down off the cliff face, suggesting the entity had climbed up to elude me.

What was it? Its shadow looked vaguely humanoid, but no person could scale such a rugged cliff that quickly. This feat suggested a monster of sorts.

Why was it here, and why did it run from me? More questions, no answers. Frustrated, I kicked the rocky wall, knocking more fragments loose. Before setting out, I messaged Edgar, telling him I'd search here for possible clues to these taunting questions. When I got home, I'd have to say there were more taunting questions.

But this thing's presence had meant…something, a potential clue in of itself.