Disclaimer: These are not my characters. They are the sole property of Squaresoft. I am merely borrowing them for the purpose of storytelling, stepping briefly into their world to influence their actions.









"The Glass Vessel"







"We must learn not to disassociate the airy flower from the earthy root,

for the flower that is cut off from its root fades,

and its seeds are barren,

whereas the root,

secure in mother earth,

can produce flower after flower and bring their fruit to maturity."

- Kabbalah (1200 BC - 700 AD)







Celes stared at the blood. Cringed. So she had, at last, been wounded. Had not felt wounded, though. There had been no previous twinge of pain, no burning release of the deep crimson life, this potent blood. Indeed, she had barely ever felt this pain of wounding before. She was, as it were, a fine soldier. Like no other, all beauty and white death. Few ever got that close. Only ever receiving her few hazing injuries, just enough to recognize the pain of war, but now . . .

This blood was different, somehow. It made her insides turn.

Celes stood in her chamber, touching the red patch on her right leg, soaking through the fabric there. She had not been struck, she couldn't have been. Was she losing her edge? Could someone have really done this to her without her noticing? No, it was impossible. And pain, she would have felt pain, wouldn't she? Or was this curse, her curse, to blame?

The curse of the ice which flowed through her veins now. Chilling, taking away her pain and fears, replacing them with only freezing indifference. Cold, cold power. What small part of her that felt human was leaving her, she had realized, trembling. Not a woman anymore, if she had ever truly been one. She was growing cold, ruthless, emotionless. Was this the price of power gained through magic, or the cost of losing your soul to fight in battle?

And now, not even human pain. No reason to give way to the flaw they called "tears," especially not now. Would she never feel inclined to show this passive human response? Now that her pains were even taken away, why should she want to? A sign of weakness, anyway. Celes drew her brow low. I mustn't be weak. Must never be weak. For the Empire. Wars aren't won by weak Generals, and she certainly wasn't one that anyone could call weak.

She moved to the basin, removed her armour and clothes. Examined for her wound. Searching her leg, front and back, with no luck. Had she imagined the wound? She moved her hand through the blood, searching for a gash in the pale flesh. There was none.

The blood flowed still. It travelled in long lazy rivulets down her leg. A sleepily incessant stream. She traced the source back up her legs. So it was her, then. It was an internal wound. Celes knew some things about the process of maturation in women; she had withstood many scientific lectures from Cid about this sort of thing, among others, but the meaningful details had not been presented to her. The woman's perspective. Celes had no mother, nor figurehead in her place. There was no female guidance in her life. The only other female she had been in contact within recent memory had been the Esper girl which they called Terra, and she was hardly conversation material. Hardly a woman, even.

She sighed, ran a bath. Rubbed a hand through her hair. This blood meant she was a complete woman now, if her memory served correct. A woman. Something she had nearly given up on. She thought that this had been ripped from her and replaced by the ice in her veins. What a comfort it would be to talk to someone, she fretted. There was Leo, but no, Leo was no replacement for a woman's advice. He understood many things, but he could be of no help in this situation. But who else then? Celes lay back in the warm water. She now felt utterly alone.



~*~



She entered the room slowly, foot after gingerly-placed foot. The girl was here, connected to a machine which monitored her consciousness level, her magical properties, among other things. The girl floated inside a tank, suspended in a pale liquid. Her hair floated green and wispy. She is beautiful, but somehow tainted, Celes thought. Had they, the Empire, robbed this young woman of her femininity as well? Or was it the price all soldiers paid that they shared? She wondered if she had spent time in a vat like the one Terra floated in, and if so, what sorts of things had they done to her?

Terra wore nothing, and Celes could see that she was as developed as was fitting for their age, which was nearly the same, she figured. Though Terra seemed frailer, slighter. Her bones seemed near the surface of the thin flesh. Her maturation was suffering from this experimentation. Surely the her mental development would be horribly affected by all the mind-alterations they had submitted her to. Was that necessary? Celes wondered, often questioned the Empires methods. The slave crown. Why Terra?

Then, a passing moment in her memory. Had she pressed it from her mind?

Terra, 12 years old. The day she realized that she was an Esper. The fires she caused. On her 13th birthday when she became aware of her fate as a puppet, a pawn to the Emperor. The fiery transformation. The white heat. Terra's rage. She had lashed out. Clawed Kefka. Celes had run away, to her chamber, and lay there in the corner, shaking in fear. They had not told her of that ability within Terra. She dreamt of it for months afterwards. Terra's rage had continued. Killed four soldiers. Then the crown. She hadn't moved of her own accord since that day.

That was four years ago, nearly a quarter of her brief life. Time and much oppression had pressed all Terra's rage aside. And Celes? Perhaps it had done something similar to her. Taken away her sensitivity, and left her with an icy core.

Terra opened her eyes and regarded Celes. The pale General turned away, unable to hold her gaze. The captive victim. Terra made no movement of recognition, but eyed Celes steadily. Celes glanced back at the Esper girl's face, and for a moment caught her frighteningly green eyes. Terra smiled a slight smile, which chilled Celes to the very bone. She left the room.



No recognition.

Celes thought another scene.

Terra, maybe ten. Celes the same. They sat in the corner of Celes' chamber, hiding.

"You look pale, Cee-less. Is that what they do to you in the water tube?"

"The water tube? What do you mean?"

"The thing they put you in, when they . . . you know."

"No. I don't remember that, Terra. What is it?"

"Cid told me they made you in there. Like a mother."

"In a tube? That isn't true!"

"Yes, it is. He told me."

"Cid lies."

"No, he doesn't. He told me that I was found. You were created."

"The tubes? Do they put you in them, ever?"

"I think so. I don't remember."

"They give you pills, Terra. I saw them."

"I didn't know . . . "

Terra started to cry and Celes did too, but not as much.

"I'm scared."

"Me too."



She did not trust her memories enough to believe all of this. The idea that it may be, in fact, based on truth even scared her. Maybe it was all a dream. An invented idea of an origin. The memories were off. She had always known more about the Empire's intentions than Terra, had she not?

It had not happened. Not that way.



~*~



Leo perched atop a rock, across from Celes. Motioned her toward him. She held back a moment. He smiled warmly, giving her a moment. Celes trusted Leo, above all others in the Empire. He smiled deeply, as she was often a comfort to him. They seemed to share the same ideals, and perhaps the same inner weakness.

Celes had not been able to silence her mind for some days now. The question continued to gnaw at her being. She could see from his face that Leo knew about her recent revelation, her bodily awakening. She damned Cid. But no matter, she would have told him anyway, given a moments time. Leo, the only one she could speak openly with. Approaching Cid had been a tense affair, more out of necessity than any attempt to confide in him. Leo smiled a silent congratulations, and she sat next to him.

"So, you called for me."

"Yes. I assume that you may know why I wanted to speak with you."

"I've gathered." Celes eyed him, questioningly.

"My origins, then. You were old enough then. You can tell me. It's time. I need to know. I can't bear to be left in the dark." Celes frowned, placed her hands on the jagged rock surface.

Leo grew quiet, as he tended to quite often do. "Celes," he began, "This is a far from easy thing to say to you." She eyed him solemnly. Awaiting.

"Go on, Leo. I'm ready." She was in fact, unsure of this sentence.

"You weren't born from a woman, or not entirely. There, I've said it . . . Perhaps a part of you did come from a person, some basic genetic information, from various sources, but you, as we see you now, are a creation of Cid's. You were created in one of those glass tubes in the research facility. Born from a glass vessel."

"A glass womb." Celes spoke the words, but barely registered them. Cold just now, she tucked her arms around herself.

"I don't know the entire purpose or plan behind it. Cid is very edgy about it, actually. He probably wouldn't give you a straight answer if you asked. He doesn't talk about it. I'm not even sure the Emperor knows of it." Leo leans back and sighs. Thinks that anyone would know it. Certainly the look of Celes was unparalleled in this continent, and probably all the others. He didn't voice this. The last thing she needed at that moment was more alienation.

"So that is the truth, then?" She searched Leo's eyes. They did not lie.

"It is. It's also why you responded so well to the magic infusion. Perhaps too well, you'll agree. In a similar manner, they have altered my genetics, but not to the degree that they have with you, or with Kefka. That, and they had my consent."

"They did?" Celes could not believe it. She frowned. "Leo. I'm not sure I would have done that, If we were given the chance to change places. You did not think that would have a harmful effect on you?"

"You agreed to the magic infusion, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"We all did. We were not forced." Celes sat quietly, and turned things over and over in her head.

"Sometimes we make decisions, and sometimes there just aren't any to make."

Yes, Celes thought, and sometimes we want to be weak, just weak for a moment, but weakness would be our very downfall.

"Would you like to come with me, to my chamber? We could . . . talk some more." He smiled, questioningly.

"Yes."

Celes trusted Leo, and so they gave each other the only piece of mind, the only human comfort they had left to offer.





~*~



That evening, the blood stopped.

A cold shuddering passed over her body, and she began to shake. Pain racked her body, tightening her abdomen and causing her to curl up in pain. She suffered in quiet agony on her bed, hoping that the sensations were normal. Somewhere, however, she knew, the ice within her had done something to this part of her that was not to be replaced in Cid's constructive tank. Icy perfection. A hollowed out core.

She grew dim. Became aware that she was screaming. Then struggling with Cid. Cursing them all. Then nothing.



Leo paced the hall in the research facility where the tanks were located. He eyed several of the withered, captured creatures held within them. Such a pity. The loss of freedom. He continued to walk until he stood before the tank which held Celes. Beautiful tall pale Celes. Her body one clean line of perfection, a consistency that numbed the mind. The girl could not be blamed for being unaware of it herself, but to anybody else. Amazing. She glistened. She was a sight that would be her own curse and blessing in years to come. The future. What of it, then? Leo turned and walked away. He did not want to consider it. The ice. The descent. What they would all have to face, like Terra, only with her it would be for a second time. Even himself. It would come to no good end.

Celes floated serenely inside the tank. For a moment, at peace.



Later she awoke, perfectly calm. When she questioned Leo, he admitted that they had suspended her in the tank for the night. Other than that, he knew no details, but Cid had told him there would be no more problems there.

Now then, it was done with.



~*~



Miranda.

Celes was sent in the lead of this operation, in lieu of her recent mishap she knew, though that was obviously not the stated reason. To prove herself, this, once and for all. To set her straight. To clear her head. Miranda was to be taken, occupied. Celes stood tall atop the hill. She was a sight to be reckoned with. An icy General. Here to claim this town for the Empire.



The Empire. Always occupying. Always taking.

We're all victims.

So the weak are the ones who lose out.



Celes glanced over the small town, from her vantage point atop the hill. Her soldiers stoop by, anxiously awaiting her command.

The citizens of Miranda were not expecting this attack, at this moment, but she was sure they would fight back in style. They were a spirited people. As were all the citizens of the Southern continent. But the Empire always won. In the end, always the same. The Empire was stronger, and there was no place for weakness. Celes felt a pang of freezing coldness shoot through her body. She had no longer the ability to create. Only to destroy, to take. She glared across the plains at the sturdy little town.



The weak are weak by choice, aren't they?

I must never be weak.



"Burn it," she commanded, "I want it burned right to the very ground."







"Morality is the weakness of the mind."

- Arthur Rimbaud