White Death

Disclaimer: These are not my characters, except maybe the ones which I have invented. Those that I haven't 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.

"Absolute Zero"

Part Seven: White Death

"The leaves fall before the tree dies."

-French Proverb

Requiem

Banon, the former leader of the organization known as the Returners, which was active in the former world of Balance, died that night in Narshe, the town which he had been born in.

Outside the storm, the Winter, raged on. He could not have foreseen this storm, in his youth, or else he would have done everything in him power to prevent it.

He had done his part, however, and a good part it had been. He smiled in death, knowing he had set something that had been good into motion. He had done his part.

His role in this world was long over now, and he cared not to face this new struggle, whatever part he may have shared in its inception. No, this was not to be his fight. He was old. He could not go on.

So as the snows gained strength, Banon gave up his.

The next morning, then, the Returners, as they were called once more, grieved for their former leader. Welcomed his successor. Faced their new challenges, without the grace of his guidance.

Mountain Winds

The mountains above Narshe stood tall and angry, facing the storm. It was barely visible through the white death which flew around the faces of Locke and Celes. Standing there, arms wrapped around for heat, they were awed. Being here made everything more vital, more urgent. They drew closer to the sick reality that was the snowstorm, and it did not welcome them.

For Locke, the burial of Banon had been like a dream. A flashback to some other life, one which he had grown accustomed to not living anymore. Now, this death, and the circumstances they found themselves in, brought it all back to him as if a distinct memory had come to life once more. He had been thrust back into the shoes of the man he had once been, as a Returner. He did, however, have a choice in the matter this time, in one way. In another way, a way that was essential to his character, he did not.

For Celes, it was more of a nightmare, returning to this setting, this time in her memory. Watching Banon die was a strange and foreign experience. For most of her memories, he had not been an ally, but an enemy. She had never known Banon. Only known his cause, and by that time it had outgrown even him.

Locke rubbed her shoulders, warming her with his gloves. He cooed in her ear, "What say we head back now? It's ruddy freezing up here."

"Soon. I haven't taken enough in, yet. I want to remember what these cliffs looked like the first time I walked through them."

"They haven't changed, love. They're just hiding, that's all. Like all memories do. It's only quite fitting, really."

"You're right, Locke. Even if I could see them, it wouldn't be the same, would it?"

"Nothing is eva the same."

"No, not ever . . . But some things do get better. Many things get better . . . "

"That's for certain, dear." He held her tightly, warming his cheek on her neck. "How's about a little snog, then?" He kissed her neck, and gingerly worked toward her mouth. They kissed, surrounded by whiteness. For a moment, barely noticing the snow.

Lydia and Lenore

Two girls worked in the Narshe academy, both barely twenty, and thus a contrast to most of the elders which congregated there. They were, in fact, the very same age. Not identical, but similar to look at, though there was quite a distinct contrast in personality. Lydia, the more lively of the two, spoke quickly, with an assured urgence. Her long black hair, worn loose, was silky smooth straight. Lenore, her twin, had hair of the same colour, the deepest chocolate black, but hers was cut to her shoulders and curly. Spirals everywhere, like coiled springs waiting to jump. And unlike her excited hair, she was calm, wispy. She spoke in paused anticipation, though still projecting quite a bit of enjoyment in every word she shared. Which weren't that many.

When Locke had asked to go speak with the scholars about the snow, Arvis had sent him to them.

Lenore smiled coyly when he entered the room, motioning to her sister to look up from her weather chart. Lydia rushed to greet him, shook his hand with exaggerated enthusiasm.

"Lydia Crane. You must be here to discuss the snow. They told us you two had arrived though I hadn't quite known what to expect. Celes, that's her name, right? She's quite impressive to look at. I mean, she doesn't look like anyone I've ever seen. Oh, excuse my rudeness. I must say, welcome, come in. Get comfortable. This is my sister, Lenore."

"Coffee?" Lenore softly held out a cup to Locke, tentatively.

"Sure, coffee's luvly. I will do with a cup. Nice spot you have here too. I must say, I wasn't expecting . . . "

"Women? Yes, I know, all these old grizzly bears. A big boy's club is all it is. But no, we're here for good reason. We're the heart and soul of this weather operation now. Makes them all swallow their feet every day, but what can you do, right? That doesn't intimidate you, does it? That we're women?"

"Lydia . . . "

"No, not at all, that's not it at all. Nothing like it, really. It's just . . . You're twins, then?"

"Yes, that's right." Lenore smiled. Locke was bewildered, amazed. These two were simply incredible and they hadn't even begun to talk about the Winter yet. Taking his coffee firmly in his hands, he settled in for what was sure to be an interesting exchange.

They didn't disappoint, either. Lydia bubbled over for hours, spilling out at the seams with knowledge, and when she boiled over, Lenore would slowly glide in and settle things. Provide a temper to her blade. Knowledge was power, and so was balance, and these girls had it firmly in their grasp. Locke sat, intrigued, eager to learn all they could teach him.

A reluctant leader

Alexis was, for once, at a loss for words. Unlike her to flee from any task, but then again, this one had been thrust on her by that old coot Banon, of all people. Being her grandfather did not make him anything special to her, especially considering that he had known it all this time, yet kept it hidden from her. Yes, he was quite an unruly character, and not even any of her concern anymore. This fact made her feel frustrated more than anything. His selfishness. Even his death was a sort of betrayal to her, and to the Returners.

One could not change their destiny though, could they? Alexis knew this to be true. They could fight and scream into the winds, but come up with much the same result. Birthright was the toughest of all to shake. A residue that clung to your skin. Followed your every endeavor.

She was to be leader of the Returners.

She had already voiced her concern to Arvis of the illegitimacy of Banon's decision. She had taken him aside after the burial proceedings, but Arvis had reassured her rather than agreed with her. Supported her. That was not a surprise, but she felt Arvis was the far better choice. Had his wits about him, but not servant to his furies. Yes, a much better choice. She told him, reluctantly promised him, that she would ease into the role. She would try, for his sake.

In her meager bedroom, no more than a closet really, she struggled to settle her head. Caught in a stasis before there would be any useful movement. A strand of copper hair fell into her eyes, and once unsuccessful in poking it away, she reached for her scissors. A few snips and her vision was perfect. She could now clearly see what needed to be done.

As a first measure of her new duty and position, she opened her stationary, and began to write. She was to send a letter to Figaro, asking King Edgar for his support. Reaffirming an old allegiance. A tie that ran deeper than monetary donation and a few discarded machines. She wanted his support in the truest sense of the word. His alliance had been a crutch of theirs in the past, and it would serve them well in the future too.

She, for one, had a sense for tradition.

Gambling

In the kitchen, Setzer entertained Celes with a round of poker. Straight poker, the kind that he was ever so adept at himself. If it had been any other lady, he would have most likely suggested strip poker, in jest, but with Celes it would have to be straight. Definitely straight, or else nothing.

The kitchen was warm and they were both having a pleasant time, leaving the residue of the burial behind. Setzer did not have much time for dwelling on things, only looking forward. The card game worked as a great diversion. Celes was laughing, Setzer was glad to see. Mostly at him, no doubt, but he didn't care as long as he could see her lovely face in that smile of hers. Not the real smile though, of course. That was for Locke, and Locke alone.

"You win again, Celes. Quite impressive, dear. Lovely. You are a real natural."

"You're letting me win, aren't you Setzer? There's no way . . . "

"Celes, I'm outraged that you would even think it! No, you've just a natural talent for it, like everything else. Is there anything you cannot do, dear? I mean, really!"

"Oh, you . . . " Celes laughed and shook her head. Setzer was letting her win, most definitely. Where was the fun in that? But perhaps, he did know what he was doing. Celes, in general, did enjoy winning, and something about Setzer . . . He always knew, somehow. He could read people, like cards, she supposed. Either way, winning or not, it was a great distraction for the moment. She glared at him. "Just shuffle the deck, okay? And this time, no pity."

"Now, Celes. Pity, really? I mean, if there is anything I wouldn't do to you, pity is certainly it." Celes rolled her eyes. Setzer chuckled heartily.

"Just deal!" She flicked a card or two at him and sat back in her chair, stiff as a board. Setzer began dealing the cards. Celes absently watched the smoke billowing up from the stove, heard the kettle bubbling toward a boil. It reached its peak, finally, and Celes turned to remove it from the flame. There, behind here, was Alexis.

"Oh!" She was startled. Hadn't heard her enter, not even slightly. "When did you come into the room? I must have been really out of it. I should have heard something . . . "

"Yeah, I get that a lot." Celes' face fell, regarded the petite woman in wonder, which Alexis mistook for some sort of disgust. Alexis poured the steaming tea into a cup, eyed Celes. "Would you like some?" She would attempt to be friendly at least. By this point, she must not have been making a very good impression at all, she figured.

Celes' face warmed considerably. "Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you." A relief to see that this woman regarded her in an amiable manner. She had been feeling strange vibes from her so far, like a territorial animal. Perhaps just the scurrying about had caused it, the sullen face that morning during the proceedings. Either way, it was a relief for both of them when they finally spoke to each other in this manner.             


Setzer rumbled behind her, "I'll take one too, Alexis, love. If it's not too much trouble."

"But you'd ask even if it was, wouldn't you?" They all laughed at this. She handed the mugs around and then took a deep, scorching gulp of tea. "May I join you two? Play a round?"

"Certainly."

Exit

It was around this time that Terra left Mobliz. They pleaded for her to stay, but the pull was too just great. She had to go, she told them. She had been called to leave there, and head southward. Something was going to occur, or perhaps, needed her attendance. Sebastian nodded quietly, knowing the importance of the effects of Terra's goodwill on others. The children cried, Duane grumbled, and Katarin pleaded with her, fervently.

"Terra, this is madness. It's basically suicide to go out into this. You musn't!"    

And Terra, a girl who had not left the area surrounding Mobliz since Kefka was overthrown, did not even listen to her. I'm leaving, she said. It was not open to question. They would have to wait it out, and simply have faith in her.

Minuet watched her wrapping herself in many layers of cloth and fur. She didn't speak to Terra, but watched her in disbelief. Was this to be a test of faith? Could she let Terra go, when she knew that she would not come back? There was nothing to protect her out there, and with Terra gone, who would protect them? Minuet pleaded with Terra, but Terra smiled, and shook her head.

No, she was going. No use crying. She would come back, soon enough.

And so, in the raging snow, the height of the blizzard, she left.   

Allegiance

"So, I know that Setzer is in, aren't you? Yes, of course. You've been in for quite some time. But Celes, what of you two? You and that Locke fellow, will you stay and help us? I hate to ask, but . . . " Alexis pursed her lips. Need to work on your delivery of speeches, girl, she thought in frustration with herself.

"I've certainly given it some thought."

"Yes, that's good. I really am hoping you will stay. We do need your help, greatly. And what of Locke, then?

"Well, he's at the academy right now, isn't he?" She grinned, sighed. Somewhere inside, she knew that Locke had already made up his mind.

"Yes, he is. With the twins." She began to laugh deeply, red strands bouncing. "They'll convert him, for sure."

"Twins?" Celes was perplexed.

"Oh yes, twins indeed." Setzer chuckled, eyes aglow."They're quite the pair. Sweet girls. Quite the lookers . . . "

"Oh Setzer, really. Aren't they all?" Alexis drawled. Celes couldn't help but let her laughter betray her too. Alexis had Setzer figured out, all right. And she didn't mind telling him so.

"Oh . . . Oh! Ouch. That's really unfair of you both. Really."

Through the laughter, a faraway look slowly overtook Alexis' face. She seemed to be listening to something very far away. Setzer shot a puzzled glance. Celes regarded her with concern.

"Listen, guys. Great game of cards, but I have to go. Something . . . Is not right."

"Not right?" Celes held her arms with her hands, frowned. "How can you tell?" Alexis struck her as someone who "just knew." She felt things, Celes could see in her eyes.

"There's something I forgot to do. Suddenly, something makes a lot of sense."

She turned, and left. Setzer shrugged and rolled his eyes. Picked up the cards, and dealt them.

The present

Alexis dropped into her hiding place from the mineshaft above, she wound not be detected this time. She waited, impatiently, for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

There, a shadow. A man's silhouette.


She tensed her muscles, cradled her bandaged arm, and didn't make a sound. Was it the same man that had attacked her the previous night? The form was barely recognizable in the dim light. Could anyone be so careless as to return to the scene of their crime so soon? Perhaps he thought that she would assume it pointless to come up here tonight. Yes, he thought she had let her guard down. Foolish.

He jumped, turned around. Impossible, her mind yelled. He couldn't have heard her, she remained still as the ice she touched. Perhaps he had felt her body shiver, the shudders in the air registering with him. But that was impossible. He was good, then. Very perceptive. She decided it was time to move, no sense drawing this out.

 She leapt, swinging her staff full force, quick as a dragonfly. He dodged, nimbly. Drew a large dirk. He was thin, and his figure came into focus in the dim light.

"Aillen?"

"Alexis. Yes, it's me, right. I thought I heard something . . . " They both relaxed and lowered their weapons.

"What are you doing here? You know it's not a good idea."

"Don't start. I don't need a lecture."

"And why are you in here, in the mines? Did you have anything to do with that . . . "

"Now what you think?" Even in the dark, she knew he was giving her "the look".

"Okay, I trust you. I hope so. But it doesn't look good. You just disappeared, and here you are suddenly, in the mines, of all places! Think about it, Aillen."

"Oh, Alex. I can explain all of this, right. Everything."

"Not now. Don't take complete leave of your senses."

"But . . . "

"You have to get out of here. Before anyone finds out. You know what will happen."

"Okay, right, fair enough. Just take this." He held out his clenched palm. She nodded, closed her eyes. Even in the dark, they understood.

"Okay. Go, though. Go now."

Aillen brushed by her, placing an object in her hand. He left quickly, without a trace, and Alexis stood there, stunned a moment. She dropped to her knees, pressed her hand to her forehead, heard. Opened her hand and cautiously looked at what he had placed there.

It was a moogle charm: a small white whistle.

Go. Find Mog.

Hell winds

Terra faced the onslaught of the storm. Fierce icy death and powerful gusts of hatred. Her feet carried her over the snow, slowly. Gliding at an unbearably slow pace. The skin on her face was numb and turning pure white. White, she thought, as white as snow.

Growing dark now, she was faced with the storm at night. Temperatures dropped, and her furs pulled more tightly around her. The blackness, no light, and this vast whiteness. Aching whiteness. How could the sky be both white and black at once? Terra was engulfed in this violent contradiction. A maze of firefly glitter in a dark empty vortex.

She trudged onward. Unsure of where she was going, but knowing that she must get there. The voyage must be made, regardless of the cost. A way would be presented to her. All she had to do was look and listen.

Close to the earth,

On my father's side of the family . . .

Night raged on. Terra was alone for the first time in as long as she could remember.