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Chapter 4
Zidane woke up with a start, jerking awake involuntarily. The slight movement, however, sent pain screaming through his body. He bit down on his bottom lip to keep himself silent, grimacing instead. He looked around in the darkness, blinking rapidly as his eyes attempted to adjust to the change in lighting. It was so silent. So deathly still and silent, he could hear his every movement, he could hear the rustle of his own clothing, the blinking of his eyes. It was an eerie, unnatural silence. He could feel the hairs of the back of his neck prickle tensely. Ignoring the pain in his body, mainly his head, which felt like it had been struck with a club, he tried to rise, but found there was something above him--a rough canopy of bark. "An Iifa Tree root..." He thought to himself. This simple thought brought about another. Kuja! He scooted back a little, moving as much as the enveloping roots would allow, and looked down. Kuja lay where he had last seen him, unmoved. However, unlike the last time Zidane had seen him, his breaths could no longer be heard or felt... Zidane sighed heavily, shaking his head. He had failed to save him. Of course, there was really nothing he could have done for him at that point, but he liked to think that he could have made a difference. At least he had tried... When his eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, he began to study his surroundings, focusing mainly on the roots that were twisted about he and Kuja's bodies. His side had been scored deeply by one of the many roots and it bled still, hot blood soaking through his clothes. Every motion spelled pain, but he ignored it for now. The only thing on his mind was finding a way out of that twisted tomb, going home, returning to Dagger like he promised. It hardly registered in his mind that he had just lived through hell against all odds, though it did register in his mind that the only reason he had even survived was because of Kuja, his brother. He saved him, even though he was on the brink of death, even though he had hated Zidane all his life. Hated him up until the day he drew his final breath... Zidane sighed. And there was nothing Zidane could do to show his thanks, except for survive this ordeal so his brother's death would not be in vain...
The night was still and quiet, the only sounds audible being the soft hum of the equipment and engines of the Invincible as it hovered over Gaia, the planet that would one day belong to Terra. Garland had thought it best to make the journey so that both Kuja and Zidane could be better acquainted with the world they would wreak havoc on. It would also give Garland time to study the planet. Kuja crept down the hallway as quietly as he could, barefoot so as to make as little noise as possible as he headed from his room toward Zidane's. The timing could never be more perfect. Garland was upstairs in his quarters and Zidane was in his, and, for the first time, neither were awake. Well, maybe Garland was, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't be able to hear anything through the thick metal walls. Carefully and painfully slow, Kuja opened Zidane's door and walked inside to stand by his bedside, peering down at him, observing him. He was sleeping soundly, issuing soft, content snores now and then, his tail curled around his body in the same way that a cat does. A tiny bit of drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, shimmering in the moonlight. Kuja grimaced in disgust, glad that he had been given the dignified form of an adult and not that of a slobbering child. Gently and cautiously, Kuja reached down and scooped the boy into his arms so tenderly that one might think he was made of glass, silently hoping he wouldn't wake. If he would just continue to sleep, it would make his job so much easier in so many different ways. He paused a moment as Zidane yawned sleepily, waiting for his eyes to stop fluttering, and then carried him out of the room, his footsteps silent despite his speed. He was eager to complete his task. He had to do it before he woke up... or before he lost his nerve. But Zidane slept on, blissfully unaware of anything outside his dreams, and Kuja nearly jumped when a tiny tail wound around his wrist as he snuggled closer to Kuja's warm body, nuzzling into his chest and yawning softly. Kuja quickly reminded himself that he was holding the brat that was created to replace him and not just some helpless boy. This was the brat that Garland viewed as perfection. This was the brat that had caused him so much pain and frustration. This was the infant that threatened his very existence... His death would be more than justified. He was only killing to ensure his own survival, after all. That was the natural law of nature. Some must die for others to live... Tucking his own tail that had somehow managed to escape it's confines securely into his clothing, hiding it in his own denial and defiance of what he was, Kuja glimpsed his own hands and grimaced. Why was he shaking? No! He had gotten this far, he couldn't turn back now. He had to hold true to his cause. he had to carry out his plan, even though it wasn't quite a plan--it was more of waiting for the right moment to strike. And he had been waiting. He had been waiting since he was seven years old for this moment, since the first time he laid eyes on what Garland called his "brother". He had been waiting for four years! He doubted he would get another opportunity like this, and if and when he did, it would probably be too late. The sooner the deed was done, the sooner he could relax. He continued on until he reached the Bridge of the great ship--the area that was farthest from Garland's quarters. It was the area farthest away from any room, for that matter. For a moment, Kuja only stood there, contemplating his next actions while looking at the sparkling blue planet below the hovering ship he was on. Gaia, Garland had called it. How ironic that the very planet that Garland planned on melding with Terra meant the exact same thing as Terra: Earth. It was beautiful from this high above, though it's brilliant sapphire blue aura bothered him in the same was that Bran Bal's light bothered him. According to Garland, however, that blue aura would soon turn to crimson as Terra claimed it. And Zidane was to be the one that would help make Gaia into Terra. Zidane the perfect model. Zidane, Garland's new angel of death. With exaggerated care, Kuja set the sleeping Zidane down on a sort of pedestal that happened to be nearby and took a step back to observe him, making sure he had not been disturbed. But he made no move save the shivers that were brought on by the sudden lack of warmth. There was Garland's angel, the angel that was to be his own downfall. The helpless, shivering boy whose skin was unflawed, having never been touched roughly by a bitter hand, whose conscience was clear and emotions were free of harsh words--save the ones Kuja delivered him. But even his words had little effect on the boy's spirit. No, Garland had always been there for him, reassuring him, telling him how perfect he was. He was his angel. And then he would yell at Kuja for daring to mistreat his "brother", scolding him for his wrongs and beating his with his own physical force. He had learned that Kuja's will was too strong to break with threats and words, and so now he attempted to do so using both insults and pain in an attempt to scar both his body and soul. Poor disillusioned man. The beatings and verbal abuse had only strengthened his defiance instead if dispiriting him. Instead of accepting the submissive and obedient role that was intended for him, he would fight it. He could feel his anger and rage begin to boil within him, giving his courage and resolve added strength. It was now or never. It was best to channel that anger into something useful. He closed his eyes and raised his arms as he began to work the death spell that would finally purge him of his "brother", his anger slowly transforming into glee. Finally, he would be free, free of the fear of replacement. Now it would be he that was perfect, for Zidane would no longer be there to claim such a position. Now it would be he that would serve as Garland's angel of death... until the time that he would be able to overthrow him as well. With Zidane gone, Garland would have no choice but to accept him. This one small victory over Zidane would mark the start of a much larger one: his freedom and Garland's death. Zidane suddenly moved, stretching out, sleepy blue eyes peeling open wearily. Kuja froze instinctively, the final words that would complete the spell and seal the fates of both catching in his throat as those large azure eyes fell on him, eyebrows raised quizzically. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked on a yawn, sitting up and grinding the sleep out of his eyes with his fists before embracing himself, shivering from cold. "How'd I get here? Why am I here?" he demanded, his expression turning suspicious as the haze of sleep wore off. Kuja quickly regained his composure, casting Zidane a sickly sweet smile. "Doing what I should have done years ago. Killing you," He said, laughing to lighten his own mood as he began to complete the spell. But when a bright blue light engulfed Zidane, archaic and incomprehensible symbols spiraling about him, he jumped back in alarm. Was Zidane not as helpless as he had believed? For one fleeting moment Kuja actually believed that Zidane was using the powers that must lie dormant within him, but that moment soon passed as the realization of what that light actually was hit him. Cursing beneath his breath, he made a grab for Zidane, but was too late. The blue light had faded away, and with it so had Zidane. Kuja slumped to the ground as though the weight of his defeat on his conscience and pride was too heavy to carry. Zidane had escaped, and it was his own fault. His excitement and anxiousness had made him careless, so careless that he didn't realize that that "pedestal" he had set Zidane on was actually the teleportation platform used to teleport to the land below. Now Zidane was gone, and who knew where he could be! Somewhere down on Gaia he lived on, safe from Kuja. Alive. All that waiting, all that planning... What was it all for? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He had waited four years to dispose of Zidane, only to have his own plan backfire on him. Only to fail. Only to allow Zidane to escape to Gaia, far from his view, out of his reach... A new realization entered his consciousness at this thought. Perhaps this was not for the worse, but for the better. Surely Zidane could not survive on his own for long--he was so young and had been pampered so much, shielded from everything bitter. Would Zidane be able to fend against the many savage beasts Garland had said roamed the land? Or did Zidane even arrive on land? Might he have ended up in the ocean to drown or be devoured by the sea creatures that lived there? And if those didn't kill him, surely the elements would. He could starve, dehydrate, die of heat or cold, consume something poisonous... There were so many possibilities! All the odds were against him, and Garland would never be able to find him--or his body--on that great planet. Not only was it certain that Zidane would die, but it was also certain that this would leave Kuja relatively innocent. Sure, he had been the one that sent him to his death, but he would not be the one that would deliver the final blow. That would be nature's job, and only nature could be blamed for destroying the boy. Perhaps this would save his own life. Kuja knew there would be hell to pay for this action. He might be able to save himself if he hurried to his quarters and feigned innocence before Garland discovered Zidane was missing. He might be able to fool Garland into believing that the disappearance had been Zidane's own mistake. But Kuja was not about to do that. He was not about to hide anything from Garland. When Garland asked where Zidane was, he would tell him. And he would tell him that it was he who did it. And he would take whatever punishment Garland issued without complaint, knowing that he had succeeded. He had spited Garland like he had done to him so many times. he had proved to his "master" that he was the superior genome, that he was not a defect. He had done what no genome could do--including Zidane--and that was disobeying his master's will. Disobeying his creator's will. He was different. His will and soul were stronger than the rest. He was perfect! Garland would have no choice but to accept that, even if he would never admit it. Kuja felt a smile curve his lips, and unbelievable sense of pride and accomplishment welling up inside him. It was over. His replacement was gone, and with him so were his fears. he stood and turned to make his way toward his room but stopped just as quickly. Garland was there, his white, emotionless eyes watching him. "What are you doing?" Garland growled, arms crossing over his chest as he waited for an explanation. He had obviously caught the faint hint of wickedness in Kuja's smile. "Standing here, contemplating the one end of thousands that Zidane may meet..." Kuja felt his courage rise, flicking his gaze onto Garland, defiance in his face as he nearly purred the next two words. "On Gaia." "What did you say?" Kuja smirked. "Your angel is no longer here. He is on Gaia, and I put him there." Kuja said, his voice slow and deliberate. he didn't hold anything in. He rubbed this information into Garland's face proudly, reveling in his reaction. Though Garland's reaction to this news was outwardly controlled, Kuja could practically feel his stomach churning in disgust and rage. "You'll never see him again. All you have left is me," He continued, smiling proudly as he grinded the truth into Garland's mind like salt grinded into a wound. Just as he suspected, Garland responded not only with bitter words, but painful blows as well. "You fool," Garland growled, glaring down at Kuja who had been thrown to the ground by the force of the blow. "Do you know what you have done? Do you truly grasp the severity of the act you have committed?" Kuja grinned up at Garland rebelliously through his obvious pain. "Of course. I've defied you, my own creator. Zidane, who you deemed perfect, could never be strong enough to do that, yet he threatened me. So I discarded him like you might do me." He wiped his chin clean of blood with a hand. "All you have left is me," He repeated. "I will become your angel of death." His last statement had so many more meanings outside the obvious, outside the intended. He would do Garland's bidding, act as an angel of death to Gaia, act as a dark messenger, wreaking havoc upon the land as Garland desired. And then, when he was strong enough... He would become Garland's own angel of death. Garland laughed coldly. "Don't you understand, Kuja? Your will is too strong, and that is the single most factor that made you a defect, an improper vessel. That is why I nearly discarded you. That is why I will discard you today." Kuja was prepared for this. He had basically killed Zidane, after all, and his confession practically invited death. This was his just reward. He barely resisted when Garland took him roughly by the hair and led him away, nor did he flinch once between the blows that eventually rendered him unconscious. The last thing he remembered in his daze was the sting of a needle puncturing his skin, entering a vein in his arm, pumping some fluid into his blood. No doubt it was a toxin that would claim his life... But it didn't matter. He had gotten Garland to admit it, even if it wasn't openly, that his will was too strong to break, even when under death's shadow. And he knew, deep in the back of his mind that he was not a mistake. He was perfect. He was Kuja. |
