Final Fantasy VI: Cold Fire
Rust Never Sleeps
Chapter One:
Prelude
Author's Notes:
10/1/20: Chapter twenty-four has finally been posted!
It was cold in the mountains, a stock-standard clichéd opening seen in a multitude of literary works. Further adding to this steaming pile of overused maxim, the snow on the ground sparkled in the moonlight. The only real blessing this offered anyone was a beginning to this adventure so cheap and safe that even a bad publisher would be proud.
Going back to the weather, the starlit skies were semi-clear and the air crisp enough to freeze breath. Angry clouds loomed over the northern horizon and the nearby mountain town, their majestic moonlit beauty adequately able to divert attention from the potentially deadly snow flurries and cutting gale-force winds. The moon, undeterred by the threat of the impending storm, brilliantly shone a little light to illuminate the way for three dark figures on their way to the summit of the hill.
At a distance, these three appeared to be some form of nightmare creatures; monsters if you will. Their deep reverberating and metallic kah-chunk kah-chunk footsteps, the harsh angular edges, and the nasty sharp pointed claws altogether suggested something otherworldly, and more than capable of whimsical disemboweling. If one were to scrutinize these creatures closer, it would come to light that they weren't creatures at all. One could say they were three plumbers riding tongue-slinging, turtle shell-eating bipedal reptiles. One could also say they were three special operatives riding metallic and geared Godzilla knock-offs. Upon closer inspection, two of the three human soldiers were twenty-something-year-old men – generic looking and clothed in brown military fatigues that only added to their rather drab mundaneness. The third one, sticking out like a sore thumb, was a similarly aged young woman in multi-colored robes with a wild mane of long emerald curls underneath her sparkling tiara.
Upon reaching their destination up high, the more decorated of the two men brought his small group to a halt at the edge with a raised hand. The other lesser decorated soldier looked about nervously, something obviously making him itch. The cause was unclear, but it could have been the upcoming storm. It could have been the howling of the wind whipping itself through the canyon. It could have even been the woman's ever-present blank stare and overall lack of emotion. More than likely the cause stemmed from his laying with a two-bit hooker before the start of the mission, though no one could really say for sure.
"There's the city," remarked the more remarkable of the two men. He indicated several miles away toward the twinkling lights of the sleeping city nestled between the mountains. Buildings belched steam and smoke from their chimneys, the smell of which hung chokingly in the air even with the gales throwing things about like a spoiled child in the midst of a tantrum.
"What did you say, Wedge?" the other man shouted over the whistling wind.
Wedge rolled his eyes and beckoned for his comrade to come closer. "I said," he shouted, "there's the city! Bloody hell, Vicks! Pay attention!"
Vicks moved closer where communication could take place without everyone needing to scream at each other like wild snow banshees. Although, with the way the wind was howling, Wedge was beginning to think that the Narshe Mountains in the Ice Cap Zone were populated with those crazed mythological monster-girls and tried convincing himself that none were hidden about singing laments of their demise. At least, he had been until his thoughts were interrupted.
"Sorry, sir. And it's Biggs, sir."
With his eyebrow jumping up, Wedge turned in his seat to regard his subordinate. "Who what now?" he enquired.
"My name, sir," came a reply from behind a salute.
"What about it?"
"It's Biggs, sir."
"It's not…Vicks?
"That's correct, sir."
Wedge nodded with a frown and resumed watching the town. He had reasonable confidence that his reports listed Vicks' name as Vicks. But, then again, he had thought that Corporal Butz had been Corporal Bartz. He'd have to investigate once he returned to Vector.
Biggs inched his machine closer to the edge of the cliff to peer over the side. Offhandedly, he said, "Hard to believe they found an esper frozen under this dump."
Wedge nodded in agreement. "Yeah. High command thinks it's been there since the War of the Magi."
"A thousand years?" Biggs snorted in disbelief and folded his arms across his chest. "Whatever. They're probably just sending us on another wild goose chase, sir."
"I wouldn't be so sure, Vicks." Wedge, oblivious to the scowl hanging on Biggs' face, jerked a thumb back towards the pale and expressionless girl behind them. "If this information was bunk, she wouldn't be here with us on this mission."
Biggs snorted once again and drummed his fingers on a mechanical console. "Yeah," he muttered with a thick slice of sarcasm. "I'm bloody sure an eighty-pound girl is going to save our arses in a firefight."
Wedge looked between his two companions. If 'The Witch' had heard Vicks' outburst, she didn't show it. She didn't even show any discomfort with the cold, which was odd considering that she was abnormally thin, shades larger than skeleton-like. Her tired, sunken eyes and sickly porcelain skin both made her appear more dead than zombies are alive.
Biggs, while right about her appearance, had no clue as to just how dangerous this girl was. Wedge knew that she was a pet project of one of the higher-ups, possibly even the Emperor himself, and that she was just as deadly in MagiTek armor as she was in close quarters combat. Somehow, she had taken out an entire squad of armed blokes in record time, but the how and the why were nowhere to be found. That information was locked up tighter than the Imperial MagiTek Facility and all attempts to unlock it had been stonewalled.
Supposedly, she had gone rogue during an operation, and Lord Kefka had been the one to stop her. However, he had also heard that Kefka had ordered her to go rogue. He supposed that what he believed didn't matter and that all rumors regarding her were to be scrutinized with a grain of salt. She had taken orders well so far, touch wood, but if she were suddenly to turn he and Biggs would have no chance.
Supposedly, she had been conditioned to be the perfect Imperial soldier, but… There was something off about that.
"Oi, Wedge! You okay?"
Wedge snapped back to reality and Biggs waving a hand in front of his face. He took a moment to recompose himself. "Remind me to tell you what I know of this girl on our way into Narshe, Vicks. Speaking of, our mission is to verify the existence of an esper in the mines behind the town. We don't attack anyone unless they attack us first. This mission is about speed and stealth foremost. Understood? We'll approach from the east." He turned to the expressionless girl behind him and ordered, "You take point. Let's move out!"
A young dark-haired man poked his head up from around a craggy surface to watch the scene before him. The Fire Witch followed her orders without question or complaint and led the two soldiers back the way they had come. Once they disappeared around the bend along with the faint echoes of complaints regarding something about a name, he growled a frustrated growl.
"God dammit, Edgar," he said below the howling wind. "I hate it when you're right."
As he disappeared back behind the cliff's edge, snow began to fall from the sky. Within moments, the intensity of the snowfall increased to blizzard standards, erasing all history of anyone or anything ever having been on that summit.
