Chapter 8
Sabin awoke because somebody was knocking on the door.
"Wha'zit?" Sabin grumbled.
"Rise and shine, lover boy! We have a cult to finish off!"
Setzer and Locke went into the room and smirked at the sleepy prince.
"What are you doing here in your own room, all alone, by the way?" Setzer merrily asked.
"You're all mad…" Sabin grunted and got out of his bed, only dressed in a pair of grey, loose pants.
"Hey, you won the shyest heart of all, and we don't get to tease you?" Locke grinned.
"Go and get equipped or married or whatever…" the prince muttered and rubbed his face with his hand.
"A little embarrassed, are we?"
Sabin glared at them.
"Are you two going to be like this for the rest of my life from now on?" he asked.
"Yep."
The prince groaned silently.
A while later the whole group met on the Falcon, even though Sabin had been bothered with the chancellor's pleas to stay. Out of the question.
After considering it, Relm had decided that Interceptor wasn't in the condition to climb mountains and sneak around inside of a labyrinth filled with triggers. So to many in the castle's despair she had decided that it was better that the dog stayed there. Not hearing any protests from the soldiers and servants, even though many had been grieving.
There seemed to be a bit of a split attention being shared by everyone on the airship. Sabin and Terra exchanged tired glances several times before she had enough.
"For God's sake, we'll be an easy prey if we don't concentrate!" she snapped at the rest of crew after yet another furtive, mischief filled glance from Strago, "you never acted like this about Locke and Celes!"
"But that wasn't any surprise!" Relm grinned, "except for Edgar, of course…"
"Right!" Sabin said, managing to once again push away all his worries, "so we have to focus on saving him so that we can give him the next shock of his life."
That brought everyone to laugh, except for Gogo, of course. As usual, his eyes simply smiled a little in the thin crack between the two veils of his.
That's it. Don't worry about the captured friends. They are alive and well, and we're going to save them just like that. Focus on that.
"So, let's discuss how we're going to do this," Terra said, smiling, "and stop being silly, guys."
"Alright, alright…"
Setzer cleared his throat.
"So, we have three entrances. That shows that these people more or less wants to be found, or at least wants that people -we- should fall into their traps in the labyrinth. But we have Maduin's help, and I have gotten us four yarns each, and that must be enough for the whole lair. There can't be endless tunnels, unless they've dug themselves below the surface of the planet itself. And I doubt they've had that kind of time. In need, we'll just turn back."
"What if they find and cut our yarns?" Celes pointed out.
"I will try to keep up making a simple map as we walk on," Relm proudly said, "as an insurance."
"Still, this is almost at the same rate as Kefka's tower," Strago grimly pointed out, "and we lack some skills this time. But is that going to scare us, eh?"
"Nope!" everyone resolutely said.
"Good. Now then, where are we going in?" the old man said.
"There's two entrances on the outer side of the ring and one inside of it," Setzer summed, "and if you'd care for my intuition we should take the inner."
"Sure, why not, mister Gambler…" Locke murmured.
"Art we ready, then?" Cyan grimly said, "is everyone equipped?"
"I think we're as ready as we'll ever get," Sabin concluded, "let's go."
Setzer went over to the wheel and turned the key. With the familiar drone, the Falcon began to rise towards the sky.
They were off.
Most of the crew went downstairs to rest and to try to prepare themselves psychologically for what awaited them. Sabin walked away to the stem of the airship, silently watching the ground below turn into ocean.
He didn't have to turn around as he heard the footsteps. He recognized the sound of Terra. Was that how it was being in love? Always knowing when the other one was close by? It was almost as his closeness to Edgar, and yet completely different.
Once again, his mind slipped over to Gogo, even though Terra's presence called for attention. Absentmindedly, as if asking for forgiveness for that he couldn't concentrate on her so much as he wished to, he wrapped his left, muscled arm around her shoulders.
But ever since Edgar disappeared, Sabin had been unable to stop thinking about the clothed mimic. He couldn't let go of the thought about how Kefka had lost his brother. Couldn't stop imagine what kind of despair and shock the poor man must have gone through when he realized who had sent him to his doom. And then having to watch Kerr… no, he had been Kefka. The one who had used to be Kefka was Gogo now. They had all agreed on that. Having to watch Kefka's madness and his pleasure of killing… knowing that what once had been a part of him no longer was human.
But he still had strength to live on.
Sabin looked over his shoulder to watch the figure in the bright clothes, standing by the railing with his back at the wheel. The winds played with his robes, made the feathers on his helmet wave, swing.
He had always looked somehow alone. Even in the heat of battles. But right then, Sabin thought that he saw something else. A flame of determination had always been somewhere inside of Gogo during the battles in the World of Ruin. But the one that Sabin sensed now was somehow different. Not less strong, but something was different. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but it was… something.
"Hey Sabin!" Setzer suddenly called, "get over here and take the wheel! Gogo, come here!"
The prince let go of Terra, puzzled. Together they went over to the wheel as the clothed figure and the owner of the airship went over to the stern, looking down at the propellers.
"Something wrong?" Terra called as Sabin put his hands on the wheel.
"I can't seem to reach full speed!" Setzer called over his shoulder, frowning, "and there's something with the sound of the engine…"
"Come on," Gogo muttered with his usual, muffled voice and hurried downstairs, followed by the albino man.
Sabin and Terra watched them go.
They were silent for a moment. Then the woman of them took a deep breath and released it slowly.
"You coming back to Mobliz afterwards?" she mumbled.
The prince looked down with a warm smile.
"I'm pretty sure I will," he said.
Terra smiled a little without looking at him and wrapped her arm around his waist, almost tentatively. She wasn't really used to the situation, and Sabin understood that. He wasn't either. This wasn't the best time to fall in love in. They needed some peace to realize it all. He just hoped that loss of his frustration wouldn't change what he felt for Terra; that she wasn't simply somebody he needed to lean onto for a short while.
No. No, no.
He had thought that she was beautiful and a great company for a long time. She was smart and strong too. And he loved her. Indeed.
Carefully he placed an arm around her shoulders and squeezed them for half a second. It felt nice to have her there.
Behind them, unnoticed, Relm stood in the stair, peeking up through the hole in the floor.
"Well?" Celes grinned.
"Just holding one arm around the other one," the young artist whispered.
She scratched her head and began to smile as she kept watching the couple.
"Somebody get my sketch pad and a pencil!" she hissed, "hurry, hurry, hurry!"
Her grandpa chuckled in a low voice as he handed her the tools and she immediately began to work on a picture.
"Hey Relm," Locke said with raised eyebrows, "I remember you making a sketch of me and Celes after we got the Phoenix. You promised us a painting."
"You'll get it when the kid's born," Relm mumbled, absentmindedly, "and that goes for the two of them over there too…"
"My, my, my…"
All grins disappeared as Gogo and Setzer came out of the machine room, however. Relm was the only one who didn't care the slightest.
"Art there any problems?" Cyan asked.
Setzer pursed his mouth and Gogo shook his head.
"Seems like I should have changed a cable a couple of weeks ago," the gambler reported, "we won't crash, but we'll be a bit slower than usual."
"Don't you have any new cable to replace it with?" Strago wondered.
"No, sorry. I'll need to get to Narshe to get one. They use the same kind of cables in the engines of the machines pulling the wagons in their mines."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, I believe that we'll be at least one and a half hour later than planned, maybe even more. Let's just see it as a bit more time to prepare ourselves."
"Optimist…" Strago muttered, but didn't really mean to be rude.
In the end it actually took them about two hours more than planned. But finally they landed by the dark tower. It stood silent and abandoned, looking grim even in the sunlight. The ground around it lacked vegetation, as if the earth itself loathed the tower.
None of the warriors said a word to each other. They only went off the Falcon and began walking towards the mountains.
"Do you guys think there'll be any guards?" Locke thoughtfully said as he began the climbing walk up on the rocks leading to the cliffs above, "or will they just let us walk in?"
"Who knows?" Strago said and looked over his shoulder, "hey Gogo, what do you think?"
But the mimic just helplessly shook his head.
"Great…" Locke muttered, "well, we'll just have to stay ready for anything."
He sighed.
"And as you know, that was a very strong 'anything'."
"How far from thee can Sir Maduin reach, Terra?" Cyan asked.
"One moment," Terra said and stopped climbing to close her eyes safely.
'How great is your reach, father?' she thought.
'Not very big, I'm afraid,' Maduin answered, 'only about ten feet from you.'
"He can't scan the area," Terra reported, "we'll have to try the old sneaking and being on guard."
The whole crew gravely nodded.
After half an hour of climbing they reached a plateau, and two paths on both sides of it. It was quite clear from the looks of the weak, trampled grass and the loss of stones lying around that the paths had been used much for some time. But on the stone ground there were no footsteps to follow in any direction.
The group of warriors assembled on the plateau to regain their breath.
Even if they had climbed a long way, the top of the tower was still above them.
"Well, where are we going now, then?" Celes asked.
"Splitting up is out of the question," Setzer grimly said, making everyone nod gravely.
"Come on, gambler," Locke said with a small smirk, "feel us out of this situation!"
Setzer snorted, but began turning his head to look at the two paths. After a few turns he pointed at the way to their left.
"As good as any direction," Sabin said with a shrug of his shoulders, "and this is when we should begin to sneak, right?"
"Seems like love has planted some patience in you," Setzer grinned and began to walk.
They walked slowly, Locke and Setzer in the lead. Every turn of the cliff and path was passed with outmost care.
After one more half an hour, Locke held up a hand as he looked around another sharp corner.
"What is it?" Relm hissed as she and all the others stopped.
Locke shook his head, rolling his eyes.
"It's the good old cult, walking around in silent trance before a cave."
"How many foes art there?" Cyan asked.
"About twenty."
Locke pursed his mouth, watching the group of robed figures.
"You know what," he muttered, "I have a bad feeling that there are more cultists in this mountain than we have believed."
"How many idiots can there be in this world?" Setzer growled.
"You should know that, you've probably fooled a few when playing cards with them," Sabin absentmindedly teased.
"Remember how they ran like sheep when we defeated that magician on top of their tower?" Celes pointed out, "I believe they work like weak animals hiding together behind somebody who's strong. If we can defeat their leaders, maybe…"
But they all knew that sooner or later they'd had to see to that the whole cult left the face of the earth, forever. No one would be safe until Kefka and all who followed him were gone.
None of them wanted to speak out what all of them thought about.
What if there's too many for us to take on? We have no magic this time…
"Do you think that we can just walk past them, like last time we encountered them?" Terra asked Locke, trying to pull herself together.
"Probably… or else they are the ones asking for it."
He turned around. After a moment of considering the odds everyone nodded. They had to somehow get in to save their friends. In peace or war… there would surely be battles at some point. In any case, they would get in.
After getting their weapons ready they went around the corner to see what Locke had seen.
It was another plateau, and a great opening in the cliff behind it. And there were cultists. Just walking around in line, their faces hid by the shadows of their dark hoods.
The group of intruders had reached the plateau before there was any reaction from the fanatics. It seemed like they were a little more alert than those who had been by the tower in the dying world.
"The sinners!" a voice from below one of the hoods hissed, making all of the silent figures look up and with growls draw thin daggers from somewhere inside of their robes.
"Now this should get interesting!" Sabin growled.
"Remember the poison!" Relm snarled with her own dagger ready.
One of the first fanatics reached the sinners and almost managed to give Locke a cut in the arm before both the married man and Cyan ran their weapons through the madman. But that didn't make any of the other robed men reconsider.
For once Sabin wished that he was better with a sword. But he had never mastered that weapon. Now, however, a little distance from the foes hadn't been too bad. His short knuckledusters forced him to go far too close to his enemies than was healthy considering what kind of tricks they used. As three of the robed men leaped at him at the same time, he found himself with two cuts on his shoulder and three more on his arm before he had fended the attackers off.
His comment about it wasn't meant for the common knowledge.
"Sabin!" he heard Terra shout before he stumbled and fell.
"Don't loose focus!" Celes yelled as the green-haired woman was about to run over to the unconscious prince.
Terra hesitated for a second. But the cultists didn't care about Sabin anymore since he was down, and she had to realize that she'd only make things worse by blindly rushing to his side. So she clenched her teeth and kept fighting.
A robed figure rushed at her, and she raised her sword…
His weight and force threw her backwards, and she dropped her weapon. But the sword did not fall to the ground since it was stuck inside of the fanatic. He growled and sobbed in shock and pain, trying to get a grip of the weapon that had torn his clothes and flesh. But even as he tried to pull it out, he fell. He kicked desperately in agony a few times, as his blood floated out over the ground like a red ocean of death.
Terra just stared at him, paralyzed by the sight. She had killed so many corrupted monsters and humans, but now she felt as awful as she had done that first time, alone in the mines of Narshe. Then she hadn't remembered that she had killed many times before, it had just went well by instinct when she was attacked by a couple gigantic rats.
For a long while she had been watching their bodies in horror, shocked by what her hands had done, holding the short sword.
Scared, confused and alone. Just staring at death, which she had brought.
The cultist kicked one last time. A weak whisper escaped his lips, then he became still forevermore.
"Master Kefka…"
That was the last thing he ever said. He whispered the name of the madman that almost had destroyed his world completely. The madman that he was prepared to die for. The madman that he with pleasure and happiness would bring back to new bloodied and evil glory if he ever had had the power to do so. And now as he was dead, his hood seemed to loose it's shadow and show a face half hidden by a blond beard. But below the hair was a man maybe about thirty years old, his gray eyes staring at nothing. Just a few seconds ago he had just been a cultist, just a dark robe that had to be defeated. But now he was a dead man. A person. More of a person than he had been as he lived a short moment ago.
Terra felt a tear trickling down her cheek. She had to cry for this man that she had killed. He had worshipped complete evil; he had probably been mad too. But she had to cry for him. Pity him and his corrupted soul.
What carried a human being to such depths of madness? Prepared to kill and die for the glory of a madman, the glory of complete destruction?
Fear? Despair?
Terra didn't know, she didn't want to know…
She had promised herself never to kill again as she had watched the world begin to recover. She had always hated it; even when she had fought the shadowy demons of Cyan's tormented mind she had silently wished that she hadn't been the one to end the lives of the dark creatures. Never would she fight because she enjoyed it or willingly on someone's order. No, only when she was forced into battle she would fight. From the first moment in Narshe's mines, she had hated it. Loathed what she was doing.
But it had to be done…
She wished that Sabin had been awake, and that the moment had been different. That he'd smile with one of those snorts and tell her to pull herself together. To stand up for a while longer. Or something else. Anything at all. Just as long as it was he who told her that. Like only he could.
'Look out!' Maduin shouted at her.
She ducked before any thought had had time to fly through her mind. Within the same heartbeat she spun around with one leg stretched and kicked the balance from another fanatic's control. He fell with a surprised shout, his daggers falling from his hands without harming anybody alive. One of them was left standing in the dead one's thigh, though.
"May the gods have mercy upon thy soul…!" Cyan muttered and ran his katana downwards.
Neither Terra nor the fanatic himself had time to realize what happened before the swordsman had fulfilled his mission. The man in the robe died immediately.
"Art thee well, Terra?" Cyan gravely asked and kindly took her hand to help her stand up.
"Yeah, I'm fine… thanks," she answered, but could by no means fight back the bitterness.
How she detested the bloodshed…
"I knoweth that 'tis hard," the swordsman said, touching her shoulder with his hand, "but we must never give up."
Terra tiredly nodded. Then she suddenly fell, because Cyan had thrown her aside with a growl. Even though her world began to spin as her palms exploded with burning ache when hitting the ground, she heard him hiss of anger and pain. Then there was another gurgling and growling of a dying man. Terra whirled around, afraid that Cyan was the one loosing his life.
And he was falling, with his last katana run through the crag of yet another anonymous robe. The two men hit the ground.
With a half strangled scream Terra got up and caught her friend's shoulders. He was far too heavy; she had to hurriedly lower him to the ground to avoid dropping him.
"Aye, I am well…" he whispered and closed his eyes.
His fingers lost the hilt of his katana, and the cultist fell aside.
With great relief Terra noted that the swordsman only had a light cut in his right side, by the height of his elbow. He was only drugged, not dead.
"Terra and Cyan alright?" Gau howled and leaped over to the young woman's side.
"Yes, he just got a scratch," she calmed the once wild boy.
"Good, we've almost won now!" he growled.
Terra looked up in surprise just in time to see Setzer, Locke and Celes make a simultaneous attack. The gambler was throwing his cards at four cultists, confusing them with light cuts as the married couple rushed…
The half-esper looked away with a shudder, still hearing the awful sounds above the general shouting.
"This is it!" Strago growled and gave his last foe a hard knock in the back of the hood.
Then the old man hurried over to his granddaughter, who was examining Sabin's wounds together with Gogo.
Ironically enough the two strongest warriors of them were the only ones that had been drugged. (OK, I'm aware about what most of us have to say about Cyan and "greatest warrior of Doma with the strength and courage of a hundred men", but he's at least supposed to be one of the stronger, right? author's note)
Terra, knowing that Cyan would be alright, hurried over to the bigger crowd.
"How is he?" she worriedly asked.
"He'll be fine," Strago said with a calming smile.
"Yeah," Relm said, reaching for a pocket, "I think that this should do the trick…"
She brought out a small, red glass-bottle and pulled out the cork by taking it between her teeth and dragging her hand and head in different directions. She looked up at her wake friends.
"And you better hold onto him, just in case," she said.
"Young lady, what is that?" Strago asked, suspicious.
"Oh, come on," the artist sighed, "don't you want to wake him up?"
"Yes, but…"
"Do you have any better ideas?"
Strago sighed and placed his aged hands on Sabin's limp arm. Gogo took the other arm, and Terra grabbed the prince's shoulders, sitting on her knees behind his head.
"Okay, get ready…" Relm said and reached out to carefully open Sabin's mouth.
She held the bottle above his lips and slowly changed the angle of her hand to pour three drops of a thick, brown liquid with bright red spots onto her friend's tongue. Then she threw herself backwards.
Two seconds passed. Then suddenly Sabin's eyes flew open, and Gogo was helplessly thrown aside. Terra and Strago managed to keep the prince down even without the mimic, however.
"Argh!!" Sabin more or less roared, desperately scratching at his throat and lips with his free hand.
"Calm down, it's alright!" Terra shouted at him.
The prince tried to speak, but only a gurgling sound passed his lips.
"What did you do to him, Relm?!" Locke shouted as he, his wife and Setzer came hurrying to see what the commotion was all about.
"Here, give him this," the young girl calmly said and after digging around in her backpack handed Strago a flask of water.
Sabin ripped the flask from the old man's surprised grip and almost bit off the cork before his lips touched the liquid. Water flowed down his cheeks and neck as he fought to swallow all of it at once. As it was all gone he sat up straight, shivering but calmer.
"I think…" he gasped and coughed, "Relm, I think that that is supposed to be served with a lot of food to go with it."
"It is," the artist grinned, "but grandpa won't let me cook…"
"I'll try it in a proper way when this is all over," Sabin muttered with a tired smile, "apart from the explosions it tasted pretty well."
"I just don't believe it…" Setzer smiled and shook his head as Relm dragged him, Locke, Celes and her grandpa towards her next victim; the warrior of Doma.
"I guess I missed most of the action," Sabin said and massaged his forehead, "what happened?"
Terra bitterly looked around at the silent, lying robes. The cultists had been twice as many, but they hadn't been warriors. And their clothing wasn't suitable for battle; it made them clumsy.
"As usual," she muttered.
She noted that Gogo had gotten to his feet and quietly watched the thin line of grassland between the oceans in the south, which could be vaguely seen between two mountaintops. He looked like a statue. She couldn't see his eyes since he was mostly turned away, and anyhow it had always been hard to judge what he thought about.
Terra realized that he hardly had spoken at all since they left for the mountains. Ever since he had unveiled himself to his friends and they had accepted it, he had been opening up. Dropping his way of drawing back from them. He had begun to talk more often, being even more of a friend.
Terra hoped that he wouldn't end that now and turn back to the silent mimicker he used to be. Perhaps it had been unwise of him to pretend to be his brother. Maybe that had struck him harder than he had thought it would. She remembered how he had been shaking afterwards, and how pale his face had been.
But he didn't seem vulnerable now. Only silent and still.
"Gogo…?" Terra said, almost unable to speak.
He didn't react.
"Gogo, are you alright?" the half-esper said, managing to use her voice properly this time.
At first, it seemed as if he hadn't heard her. Then he looked around.
"Don't worry," was all he said with his muffled voice.
After that he once again turned to the horizon.
"Hey."
She almost startled when Sabin's hand softly landed on her shoulder.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.
Terra sighed, turning to him to avoid looking at all the bodies.
"Will it ever end?" she bitterly said, "I hate these battles…!"
He straightened up and carefully pulled her into a hug.
"I know, I know," he mumbled, calmingly stroking her hair, "but we'll go through these last ones, alright? These are the last battles. Next time someone else will have to take care of it, I promise. We'll go through this, together as always."
Together…
Alright.
Terra leaned her head against his chest, glad to hear him saying that. She had needed it. Now she couldn't understand how she had been able to keep fighting without this dear support before.
Well, when you have to you can do it…
She looked up at Sabin and managed to smile.
"Thanks a lot," she said and reached up to touch his lips with her own.
"Anytime, Terra," he smiled back and held her even tighter.
A half strangled scream announced that Cyan had awakened. What he said was nothing that was suitable in the vocabulary of a noble warrior.
"But hey, it works, right?" Relm innocently cut in.
It took Cyan a few moments to recover.
"Hey lovebirds," Locke called with a warm smile, "are you ready to enter the nest of the morons?"
"Well?" Sabin said in a low voice.
Terra smiled.
"I'm fine. Thank you," she answered.
They stood up.
"Then let's go," Setzer said, juggling with two of his yarns even as he walked towards the entrance of the cave.
"Wait, let Maduin check if it's safe!"
Terra hurried past the others and stopped by the cliff beside the opening.
'It's your turn, father,' she thought.
'One moment,' he smiled, 'and my best wishes to you and Sabin, my girl.'
She smiled carefully, feeling a short sensation of coldness as he left.
"Good thinking," Setzer said, a bit embarrassed over his lack of care.
All of them awaited the result.
'It's safe, at least as far as I reached,' Maduin reported, 'I'll be circling around and warn you for anything suspicious. Just don't walk too fast and everything will be fine.'
'Alright.'
"Follow me," she gravely said.
"One second…"
Setzer secured a knot around a dead bush's trunk a few feet from the entrance, pulled it a couple of times to check if it was safe and then nodded.
"Let's go," he said, and his friends silently agreed.
None of them noticed that the one of them dressed in bright yellow, green and red clothes threw one last concerned glance towards the arisen Serpent Trench before he followed the others into the darkness.