Chapter Twenty-One

The curt shrill bell rang out as Sarah found herself entering a familar shop floor. Sarah's heels echoed against the creaky wooden panes as she manuevered between the shelves of shoes. She glanced towards the wall at the many swords, saddles, and armor Dante had constructed. Sarah paused by the counter, looking over the painting of Dante's family that proudly hung on the back wall of the store, showing all that shopped there whose hands had delicately made their fashion. She tensed as her eyes reviewed every detail of Dante's sisters and parents. She pursed her lips, wondering if she had made a mistake. Through the front shop windows, she saw her rather confused team of soldiers talking amongst themselves and glancing up and down the alley.

"Just one moment, I'm on my way!" She heard echo from the backroom. Sarah considered momentarily just dashing out the door. But her eyes remained glued to the family portrait and soon enough, Lucen appeared, untying his apron hurriedly. He stopped when he saw Princess Sarah, immediately falling into a bow. "Princess Sarah, how wonderful it is to see you!"

"I need to speak to Dante, urgently," Sarah said, tearing her eyes away from the portrait.

Grimly, Lucen looked to the sword on her back and gestured towards the open door behind him. "He's in the iron forge in the back."

"Thank you," Sarah said, somewhat short of breath. She began to press past him, when he placed a hand to her shoulder, stopping her. Sarah looked over her shoulder at the rather uneasy Lucen, who licked his lips and contemplated his words.

"Are we going to war, Your Highness?" He asked in a hushed tone so as not to upset the women. Sarah was quiet, however. "If you're here to draft my boy... just make he doesn't try to be a hero, alright? He's my only son."

Sarah's blue eyes pierced Lucen and after a moment of hesitation, she nodded. "His life will be well placed, I promise."

He managed a weak grin, though neither of them believed the words Sarah had spoken. She tore away from him and briskly passed through the main sewing room. After a curt knock, she entered the room in the back of the store that was hot enough to break an instant sweat across Sarah's brow. She pressed the door shut behind her, feeling herself fall against it. There was Dante with his back to her. A long pair of calipers reached into the swelling forge that he dutifully worked over.

"Father, if it's the man here for his Chocobo shoes, tell him five days time was the deal, I can't work any fas..." Dante paused as he turned and saw Sarah. Between them, a red hot ingot dangled precariously from Dante's tools. Upon meeting Dante's dark eyes, the color of the sweetest Lindblum chocolate, all of Sarah's hurried anger ultimately drooped into a sorrow. "Sarah," Dante set his work down, almost clumsily. "What are you doing here? What's happened?"

Sarah let out a sigh, pushing away from the door and coming just a few steps closer. She folded her hands together in front of her chest. "My sister has gone missing, Dante. She is in grave danger. I know where's she going so I'm... going after her."

"Going after her?" Dante echoed, arching his eyebrows. "But that's why you have soldiers. You shouldn't be rushing ahead of them."

"I'm too impatient to sit and wait for them to act," Sarah shook her head. "Dante, you of all people should understand how severe this situation is. You know what my father's been going through... you know what the world reckoned with all those years ago. We cannot sit here and actively deny we don't know what's going on. I see things crystal clear now after what I saw happen to my father yesterday, Dante. I have to do this. I have to find Bella. I have to protect her for my mother and my father."

"Where is she going?" Dante asked, his face softening.

"The Outer Continent," Sarah glanced towards the window that was wet from the smoke and steam of the forge. "To a large tree called the Iifa Tree. The supposed beginning of Gaia."

"It's too dangerous, Sarah," Dante surged towards her, taking hold of her arms. "Something could happen to you out there. And... what would become of Alexandria if you're not there to take the throne as our queen?"

"I'd rather die trying to save my sister than sit here and wait for my crown," Sarah told him defiantly. "My father is not going to die anytime soon. I have to do this, Dante. I've come here to ask if you would go with me?"

"You want me... to go with you...?"

"With any luck, if we're quick, we can find her before she gets to Burmecia and onwards to the Northern Ports," Sarah said. "Will you do it, Dante?"

The young man gazed around his workshop seemingly vacant. He blinked rapidly and looked towards Sarah, nodding gently. "I'll go with you, Sarah."

The princess grinned and let out a sigh of relief. She reached forward for his hands, tenderly encasing them between her tangled fingers. "Thank you. For this, I shall see that you're knighted of the highest honor."

Dante smiled for a brief moment before glancing down at Sarah. "You're not going wearing that, are you? Heels? On hilly grass? No way. And this dress will inhibit your legs."

"I, uh... I wasn't quite taking everything into account when I left the castle," Sarah said, tugging at the lacy collar of the olive satin dress. "The only thing I care about is finding Bella."

"Well, you won't catch up very fast when you break your ankles in those shoes," Dante laughed, wandering towards a large wardrobe squeezed against the back wall of the forge. "I have some things in here that should fit you. Just some things I've made for fun."

Sarah grinned as he pulled a pair of pleated dark green pants out. The pleating was clean and well done, fashionably chosen with a mustard yellow thread that gleamed in the dreary light of the forge. Next he handed her a cotton shirt with long loose sleeves. The collar was to be laced together with black ribbon. Off the bottom shelf, Dante presented Sarah with knee high leather boots that sported leftover belts from his other projects. Dante then reached for a box jammed onto the top shelf of the wardrobe, holding it low for Sarah to see. She pushed amongst the bulky leathers, lifting a pad with strapping.

"Bracers. For your wrists, shoulders, knees... you know, the weak spots," Dante shrugged.

"Goodness," Sarah huffed as Dante handed a few leather bracers towards her. "It's like dressing up and playing make believe."

"You'll be thanking me when something more mean and unrelenting challenges you out there," Dante told her pointedly, gathering his own clothes up. "There's a water closet behind the ladder over there. You can change there."

"Alright," Sarah walked a few paces and paused. She glanced towards Dante who was already hurriedly unbuttoning his sweaty tunic. Sarah clutched her homemade clothes tightly. "Thank you," She said, very softly, before she squeezed behind the ladder and into the closet.

...

The castle garden was teeming with guests. The loud cry of violins, trumpets, and percussion rang out amongst the party guests laughter and hoots of delight. Long tables covered in pale blush pink linens sported decadent treats. Chocolate mousse, strawberries coated in white chocolate, toffee, peanut brittle- all the treats one could so divinely crave. Pink carnations and white drapes decorated the garden, giving the mild autumn afternoon a breath of fresh air. Waiters darted amongst the people, offering champagnes, ales, and wines of all choosings. It was shaping up to be a slendid afternoon.

Zidane found himself alone, however, in an aisle of hedges nobody lingered. He was wearing that crisp black suit that was always itchy. With the white button up that had the most annoying buttons to fumble with. A vibrant red bow tie lie crooked at the collar of his shirt. He smoked a cigarette languidly, casting grim looks at the party carrying on beside him. He exhaled heavily, sending a plume of smoke into the air. He tapped the ash off the end of his cigarette, pursing his lips as he watched the nobles chuckle and speak behind their lacy gloves.

He tried to keep his eyes averted from the weary scenery that carried on around him. Zidane simply tried to be patient and keep his cool... But a nearby obnoxious laugh and snort from a snooty Treno resident had him tensing all over again. The atmosphere washed over his skin, coaxing him to relax and enjoy the happiest occasion Alexandria: the first birthday of the princess. But Zidane didn't want to relive this memory. Not like this. Not so painfully real. Zidane would never confess to it, but Kuja's allusions were quite convincing. And Zidane shivered at the thought of Kuja being able to read his mind so well. Maybe Kuja knew Zidane better than he knew himself?

Zidane shook that thought away, taking another drag of his cigarette. He glanced down the empty cobblestone path, his eyes darted to each rock in the path. Each was so diversely different, but unanimously came together to make a clean and full path that was pretty to the sight. So much care and detail Dagger put into rebuilding the castle, to make it better than even its former glory; the perfect kingdom she wanted to leave to her first born, Sarah. Zidane's shoulders drooped as he exhaled his smoke.

"There you are!" Slender fingers came to grasp his arms and Zidane almost couldn't bear the sight. Dagger's face filled his vision. Her clear skin was so radiant in the fresh afternoon sun. Her long dark had been pulled back into a braid that began at the nape of her neck. Her cheekbones glimmered with modest rouge and her brown eyes sparkled. She was wearing a formal blue evening gown that flowed the length of her slender body and had gold embellishments along the cuffs and hems. "What are you doing hiding over here? People are asking to see you." Dagger tugged at his arm and he looked at her, so desperately wanting to give in, but he remained rooted in spot, watching his ribbon of smoke dissipate from his cigarette. Dagger's face softened and she reached up, combing his hair from his face. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

Zidane cast his eyes down. "I'd like to just stay over here for a while... I'll catch up in a bit, alright?"

"We'll be blowing out candles soon," Dagger glanced over her shoulder. "Is this about Sarah turning one? I know, times does fly..."

"Dagger," Zidane looked into her eyes. How deeply he wanted to believe he was really looking at her. How he wished from the fathoms of his soul that she was real and tangible. "I just need a moment. You're a much better sight for sore eyes, anyway. Go chat 'em up for me."

"Oh, Zidane, sometimes I really do wonder what's going on up there," She tenderly stroked his temple. After a moment, she turned and walked away. Zidane rustled free from the hedges, turning to watch her disappear back into the crowds that had gathered to celebrate the first heir to the throne of Alexandria. He bit down on his lip and flicked his cigarette away, jamming his hands into his pockets.

"You know, for someone who's aware none of this is real, you still do work so hard to treat her as you would were she alive," Came a voice from behind Zidane.

The king pursed his lips together, slowly turning to see the ever perky and petulant Kuja. "Yeah, well... the difference is I have a soul."

Kuja grinned. "Is that comment supposed to break my poor black heart?"

"Look, I'm not here to do some little dance with you," Zidane said sharply. "Where is my daughter?"

"Oh, she's not with you?" Kuja withheld a curt laugh. "Well, that may mean she's come to her senses and taken my advice. Perhaps the little one actually does have it in her. You know, you don't give her enough credit, Zidane."

"How could you do this?" Zidane hissed, curling his hands into fists. "You guilted her into doing this. You probably had her worried sick I'd be killed if she didn't give into your commands. I guess scum like you never can stay dead."

"Actually," Kuja folded his hands behind his back. "It's people like you that can't keep me dead."

"Enough with the mind games and fancy talk," Zidane shook his head. "I'm too exhausted to keep up with your rhetoric."

"Oh, little golden boy. There's so much you've never realized about yourself. About your own potential," Kuja slowly paced, reaching out to touch the delicate carnations grown just for Sarah's celebration. "Some would argue I'm the failed attempt as a reputable Angel of Death. And that you... are the perfect one." Kuja's eyes flickered towards Zidane and he felt himself shiver beneath his dress coat. "Garland designed me with a fixed lifespan, but only at one defining moment: when you are stronger than me. Should you fail as the perfect Angel of Death, never to out-perfect the fatal flaw, I shall never die. And as time waned on, it seems, Zidane, that you have failed your task." Kuja grinned and came towards Zidane, grabbing his arm and turning him to gaze down the shaded aisle of hedges. Straight ahead in the open plaza of guests, Dagger, in her stunning blue dress, held the small and pudgey Princess Sarah in her arms. "Your strength was always a ticking bomb..." Kuja said gently. Moment by moment, Zidane became more tense as his eyes followed Dagger. "It was always sorely misplaced, defined in one principle that would never be tangible. And when she finally died... well, you died with her, too, Zidane. Your name should be on that headstone. Because they buried you that day, as well."

Zidane ground his teeth together, pulling away from Kuja. He tore his eyes from the sight of Dagger, walking towards the hedges and focusing on the gentle pink flowers. Kuja smiled, watching Zidane's inner turmoil unfold.

"Your hopes and dreams and desires- your innate gift to be a human," Kuja continued, while Zidane felt a pressure building beneath his skull. "You lost all of that the day she took her final breath. Without her, is this family worth fighting for, Zidane?"

"Enough!" Zidane found himself bellowing at the top of his lungs. When he opened his eyes, the ash of Terra greeted him once more. Distantly, the sound of molten lava could be heard. Zidane turned towards Kuja with a fire in his eyes. "I took a deal from you. If I work for you, you leave Bella alone. If she turns up at the Iifa Tree, I want you to transport her back to Alexandria."

"She's old enough to make her own choices," Kuja replied, folding his hands behind his back. "You can't be the King of her heart forever, Zidane. As a young adult, you, yourself, made difficult choices and sacrifices. It's Arabella's decision to make. It's her destiny."

"She is not destined to be the creater of Mass Destruction," Zidane hissed. "She cried when she found out a carriage ran over an oglop. You'll never make her do what you want."

"A person with an open mind and an accepting heart will find a way," Kuja grinned, shaking the ash away from his hair. "And her destiny became sealed the day of her mother's death which so happens to coincide with the fall of her father."

Zidane's hands curled into fists. "If you allow her to go through with this choice, knowing full well it's avoidable, then our deal is off, Kuja. I will declare full-on war with you. And I will stop at nothing to get Bella back."

Kuja smiled. "I love when you get fiesty and worked up. It really brings the conversation to life. Quite a bold statement. An empty, far fetched, and sad one, at that. You're wasting your time, really. You get weaker by the day, Zidane. This time, I don't think there will be any catching up."

Zidane was about to respond when Kuja reached forward, giving Zidane one single push. The king staggered backwards, falling over the cliff and into the dark abyss below.

...

The late afternoon was waning into evening. The sky was breaking out into a variety of sherbets. Up ahead on the gravel path, a wooden sign was visible. Upon seeing it, Bella picked up her pace, her dusty boots beating to the path. She was rather winded and had a headache from not eating all day. Her feet throbbed horrendously and she knew she needed to find somewhere to sleep for the night. She found herself taking the Eastern Highway from Alexandria, but she hadn't encountered many people on her route. The onset of winter made it an unpopular time to travel and many caravans stuck to the southern roads that took them to the warmer Lindblum. Around Bella stretched vast plains. Farms dotted the landscapes. Daisies, tulips, and petunias sprouted along the path. Bella raced towards the sign, letting out a breath as she finally got close enough to read it.

Alexandria - 56km

Burmecia - 157km

Even after fourteen hours of walking, ravenously thirsty and hungry, Bella felt like she hadn't made much progress. She let out a huff, nervously gripping at her backpack straps. She looked across the empty quiet plains, a cold breeze rushing around her. It would be night soon. Bella knew it wouldn't be safe to travel alone. She desperately wanted to lay her head down somewhere warm, as well. The young princess let out a sigh, continuing in the way of the arrows on the sign. She would find somewhere to shelter, she convinced herself. She busied her mind by kicking rocks along the path. Though she wanted the tiring journey to end, the final destination had her unnerved. In many ways, Bella still felt like a young child that didn't completely understand what they were getting themselves into. But she wanted to believe she was doing this for the safety and security of her family. Her father had been through so much, Bella thought it was her turn to do something. Especially if it meant protecting everything her mother had loved. Maybe her father would never accept this and blame himself- but Bella thought it would be much better than having him live through torment just to keep her safe. She couldn't feign ignorance her entire life. She had to pull herself up by her bootstraps as her own parents did at the call of their destiny.

I'm sorry, Daddy... I really am, Bella thought to herself, watching as the last of the sun began to sink behind the vast mountain range. You might not agree... but I'm sure things weren't black and white in your childhood, either. You have always told me I have to make choices for myself. This is my choice, if it means you and Sarah and Alex will be safe... I always was the black sheep of the family. Maybe it should have been me instead of Mother, so you could have been the perfect family...

The sound of a ringing windchime caught Bella's attention and she paused on the path, gazing over an uneven wooden fence and spying a farm tucked against the base of the mountains. There was a modest cabin that had a torch burning gently against the oncoming darkness on the porch. Nearby was a big red barn and the door hadn't been completely shut. Carefully, Bella came to the fence, gripping the worn and decaying posts. Her dark eyes gazed across the open fields, spying the empty furrows that had been harvested in the nick of time. There wasn't a stir or the sight of another living creature. Bella squeezed her lanky body through the fence, causing it to wobble back and forth. She staggered onto the property and hurried across towards the barn. Her backpack beat against her as she wildly out ran the idea of being caught. Bella worried someone may recognize her and inform the authorities. Or even worse, they'd take her trespassing as a symbol of violence rather than refuge.

Bella squeezed through the barn door and was relieved to find it was warm from the torches mounted on the walls. Bella hugged herself, ruffling her woolen coat as she crept further into the barn, hopeful to find a place to sleep that obscured her from view. She told herself she'd be out before dawn tomorrow. Hopefully they would never be aware of her presence. There was a scuff to the barn floor and Bella gasped sharply, holding her hands out in front of her.

"Kwe-eh!"

Bella relaxed, her eyes becoming wide as saucers. Cautiously, she came closer and the chocobo became more clear. It was so tall, Bella had to crane her neck back to gawk at his protruding orange beak. He ruffled his golden feathers, scraping its feet again to the ground. It's big blue eyes looked to the young princess.

"I don't want to hurt you," Bella whispered, pressing her hands to her chest. "I'm just going to lay down behind those crates... don't mind me..." She walked a few paces away from the chocobo and it did not react. Carefully, she trudged around two large crates containing chocobo food. There was some hay stowed behind the crates to Bella's surprise. She used her backpack as a pillow and let out a sigh as she closed her eyes.

The cicadas and frogs chirped loudly through the thin barn walls.

...

Nighttime had descended across Alexandria. Zidane sat alone at the large dining hall table. He pressed a linen cloth full of ice to his head as he leaned over an unappetizing cup of coffee. Alex was absolutely inconsolable at the fact Bella and Sarah were gone. And he knew Beatrix was furious at him for allowing Sarah to take six men and leave on her own accord. She took Knights of Pluto, however. And Zidane knew Sarah was mindful of her surroundings and probably wouldn't go far. Half-way to Burmecia, tops, before she turned around begging for an airship. He couldn't help, however, the wretched feeling of anxiety that riddled him with the idea of two of his daughter's gone. How could they let this happen?

His temple throbbed sharply and he ground his teeth together, adjusting the linen on his head. A moment later, he could hear boots to the floor and he looked up with his glazed tired eyes to see Beatrix standing at the side of the table. She, herself, was rearing the ugly head of fatigue, as well. Beatrix hadn't even worn powder or rouge that day. She looked as utterly drained as Zidane.

"Anything?" Zidane croaked.

"The troops that took the Western and Southern Highways report no sightings 16 kilometer's out. We haven't heard from the Eastern Highways, however."

"Is that Sarah's troop?"

"Yes. Airship personnel reported sighting her troop on the Eastern Highways. She has yet to send someone back to report. Perhaps by morning," Beatrix said, trying to hold in a yawn.

Zidane pursed his lips. "We should all get some sleep. With daylight maybe comes clarity. We should call on Lindblum to patrol the skies, too. Meet our people halfway so we cover more ground. There's a lot of open plains she has to cross to get to Burmecia. We'll spot her."

"Preparations shall be made in the morning," Beatrix nodded.

Zidane sighed and stood, discarding his linen on the table beside his now cold coffee. Together, he and Beatrix walked towards the grand foyer, spying the large moon through the circular glass above the door. "At least there's plenty of moonlight so it's not too dark..."

"We're going to bring them both home, Zidane," Beatrix tenderly pressed a hand to his shoulder. "The girl's are stronger than you think. They're survivors, just like their mother, just like their father."

Zidane glanced around the empty foyer, nodding in a rather empty fashion. "Good night, Beatrix." The defeated king quietly began up the stairs, running his hands along the familiar smoothness of the railing. How many times he had gripped that railing. He had done it when teaching his girl's how to climb stairs. When he had been announced with Dagger. So many memories just from touching something as simple as a railing. He felt like it was all slipping away from him. He was the sower of his own misery.

He found himself outside the sitting chambers of the princesses rooms. Carefully, Zidane pushed the door open. The room was still lit, but nobody occupied it. Briskly, he crossed towards Alex's room, and a noise started to be heard. He peaked through the ajar door to see a music box was opened on Alex's vanity. A debutaunte in a long flowing white dress twirled about, singing a delicate tune. A few candles were lit on the surfaces to keep the room warmly glowing. Zidane came through the door now to see Alex laying in bed, stroking a doll she had that resembled her mother. She cocked her head up when she heard Zidane's stirs.

"Are they back?!" She sat up quickly. Zidane sorely shook his head and Alex sighed, frustratedly, and laid back down. "Sarah and Bella are selfish!"

"Hey now, that's not fair to say," Zidane came towards the bed now and laid down beside Alex, propping himself up on the pillows and threading his fingers across his stomach. "People do things that we may not understand in the moment, but that doesn't mean they're bad people, Alex. Your sister's aren't trying to hurt you. They're just doing what they think is right."

"But you don't think it's right," Alex pointed out, her big brown eyes gazing up at her father.

Zidane sighed and pursed his lips. "Yes, but it's not my life, is it? I can't tell you girls what to do forever. I might not agree, but sometimes that can't stop someone, Alex." The young princess kept her eyes trained down on her doll, tenderly pushing it's black hair around. Zidane wrapped his arm around her, pulling her against him. He ran his fingers through her curly blonde hair. "Everything's going to be alright, Alex. Everyone will come home, I promise. We'll figure things out."

"I just want things to be normal again," The young princess bemoaned into her father's chest. She then lifted her big curious eyes to him. "You know, I think Sarah is going to marry Dante."

Zidane grinned at the lightheartedness of the suggestion as he loving looked down at his daughter's round rosy face that glowed warmly orange in the candlelight. "Yeah," Zidane chuckled. "Maybe she will. But that's up to her."

"Oh, but, Daddy, they have to!" Alex declared. "With a love story like their's, it's meant for books. Dante scaling the castle walls to teach Sarah how to fight with a sword. Making her her own sword, too! And-" She paused when she saw her father's amused, surprised look. "Oh, I wasn't supposed to tell you any of that..."

Zidane could only laugh, pulling his daughter in for a tight hug. "It doesn't matter, my little monkey. We should go to sleep."

"Will you read me a story first?" Alex asked.

"Alright," Zidane nodded, glancing around the room. "Which one?"

Alex leaned over the side of her bed, reaching amongst a clutter of toys she kept an arm lengths away. With some trouble, she lifted a leather bound book up, handing it to Zidane. He turned it over in his hands and sighed as he laid his eyes on the title: I Want to be Your Canary.

"Sarah and Bella say they remember Momma reading it to them," Alex said as she settled back in beside her father, clutching her doll close. She leaned her head against his shoulder. "I want to have memories of you reading it to me."

Zidane smiled as he ran his hand along the textured surface of the book. He could almost hear the cries of the audience and the slighty out-of-tune Tantalus band from the balcony. Zidane flipped the book open to the first page, the smell of crumbly, waxy papers wafting past his nose.

"This is a story that takes place long, long ago. Our heroine, Princess Cornelia, is torn from her lover, Marcus. She attempts to flee the castle, only to be captured by her father, King Leo. When our story begins, Marcus, having heard this, crosses swords with the king..."