chapter fifteen *is* up and new - please be sure you've read it in its entirety before continuing. it didn't register properly, and you'll really mess up the story if you missed it! ::wink::




Chapter Sixteen: Images of Destiny





"...you sure she can't get out of that?"

"Stop worrying. Those things are unbreakable. Someone from the outside has to let her out. I'm not planning on it. Are you?"

"What're we gonna do if she doesn't tell us?"

Pain, light, and noise swamped me all at once. I awoke groggily, half aware until I heard the voices. I thought it was all just some horrible dream; I had forgotten the brutal reality of my magic-less state.

"She'll tell us."

"But what if it don't work?"

"She can be a pawn - we can use her against Baron if everything else fails. But it won't fail. I have a couple tricks left up my sleeve."

I tried shifting on what I now recognized as Maara's couch. My hands were still clasped behind my back, the skin of my wrists raw and bloody from my struggles. My face ached; I was pretty sure I had at least one puffy black eye. The leg I had been lying on was cramped and uncomfortable.

"She's moving."

Strong hands grasped my shoulders, unkempt nails digging into my skin. I opened my eyes - yes, one was swollen - to see Koren's face bending over me. He dragged me into a sitting position. "Morning, Lady." His voice was mocking. I wanted to scream, or cry, or both.

"Now that you're awake, we can get down to business." There was a circle of men around me - I recognized Heiber and a few faces, but most of them were unfamiliar - and Koren, obviously the leader, crouched before me with a sneer on his face. "You are our captive now, and we want you to remember that. Not only that, but we hold the entire town in our thrall. Most of them fell under our spell; remember that not only can we hurt you, but we can hurt them as well."

I looked him straight in the face, trying to be brave, trying to quell the pain. "It's not going to work," I said with quiet confidence.

Koren slapped me across the face. I felt my cheek bruise instantly, and a burst of blood filled my mouth. I wrenched my eyes shut, determined to keep the tears inside. I had faced worse than this. I would be okay.

"We want something from you," he said, and slapped me again; I turned my head and made no sound. "We're magicians too. And we can control the people in the town who have powerful magic. We want you to teach us the casting of Meteo."

I made my eyes focus on his face. "You can't cast Meteo," I said, and finished hurriedly before he could strike me again: "Meteo has been sealed away. It is beyond the reach of any power in this world."

"Liar!" Koren punched me in the gut; I doubled over, seeing stars, feeling dizzy and horribly nauseous. "Your stories aren't going to save you. I know you can cast the spell!"

"Not ...any ...more," the words struggled from my bleeding mouth. If only I could reach an Elixir. "I sealed it away a few days ago. Even I can't cast it any more."

This only rewarded me with another blow across the face; I felt myself losing consciousness. The world around me was fading, shimmering in and out of focus.

Koren hauled me upright, throwing me against the nearest wall, his grip tight on my upper arms. "Look, you," he snarled. "I don't have time for these games. You're going to teach us Meteo right now."

"I'm not lying," I coughed out. My entire body was pain. He slammed me against the wall again for good measure; I shut my eyes, trying desperately to stay awake. "It's ...too far away! I swear it. Even I can't cast it anymore!"

He looked at me, wondering if I was serious. Not being able to get anything out of my bruised face he heaved me at the wall again and left me there to converse with his cronies.

I heard small muttered bits of conversation; most of my attention was focused on staying upright, fighting the urge to fall into a swoon. All of my weight was leaning against the wall as if it were a heavenly saving grace. I hurt. My sense of balance was becoming faulty; the room felt as if it were swaying, and my only focus was the point of contact between myself and the sturdy wall at my back ...

"...making it up?..." A shift. "...didn't think she'd..." A clang from outside, magnified five times inside my wounded head. "...doesn't matter," violently. "...use her against Baron..." "...Meteo? What if ..." Pause. "...they'll try to save her... we can bargain with..."

A pounding and screaming noise approached; I was sure it was my head until the door slammed open. "Koren!" a man spat. With the door open I could clearly hear the sounds of a faint battle. Battle?

Koren stood up and swore loudly. "Mexin! Rabarge! Stay here and watch her. Don't let anyone know she's here. Everyone else, with me." They all ran outside; their heavy footsteps made the house shake and spin in my blurry vision, and I tried to grip the wall with my bloody hands. The two men closed the door and started pacing by the windows, trying to get a glimpse of the battle. They were ignoring me; I wasn't much of a threat anyway.

Once I regained my posture against my precious wall, I started listening. I could hear cries from outside: "Hurry! Get the others ..." There was running, and much cursing. Someone spat out: "Where is the bastard?" Someone else replied, "There must've been ten of 'em! With huge horrible glowing swords..." Someone very near to the window called, "An' they're bloody quick! Can't see 'em anywhere..."

Glowing ...swords? My thoughts immediately turned to Cecil. How did he know? How could he have known about what happened? And was he alright?

Then there was a sudden slam against the door, and someone's booted foot kicked the door in. One of the men leapt at the intruder, but a slender sword was thrust through his body as he jumped. The same booted foot planted itself on the man's impaled body and casually pushed it off. I know that sword. I tried to call his name.

The other man, seeing his comrade's fate, had drawn forth an enormous flail, ready for battle; but as Edge entered the room he had a ninja star at the ready and sent it directly into the man's stomach. Edge's entire face lit up when he saw me, and then darkened again into fury when he saw the state I was in. The man with the flail never had a chance; in one graceful spin the ninja sliced his throat and slammed the door shut. He dragged a nearby table over and leaned it against the door for support. Then he turned to me.

I was in so much shock that I had started to slide down the wall, and without my arms I knew I was going to fall; but Edge caught me, cradling my poor wounded body in his arms, carrying me over to the couch, murmuring my name over and over again. His hands were on my face as if he were trying to convince himself that I were real. He clutched me to his breast and I felt his lips on my hair.

"What did they do to you?" His whisper was dark. He gently pushed me away to look at me and noticed that my arms were bound. He turned me around and saw the cuffs; I heard the swish of a drawn sword and before I could warn him, he had taken a swing -

The glowing blade of the Masamune sliced through the handcuffs like they were made of air. And as the sacred blade severed the chain I felt the mechanism break, and the magic poured back into my body like water into a parched and empty vessel, filling me up, refreshing my mind and soul, rushing into me like a river of familiarity. I let out an ecstatic "Oh," and didn't even notice that Edge had sliced the metal cuffs off my poor, skinless wrists as well.

I turned to look at him - and gasped. His face was bloody and bruised, and there was a long cut across one cheek. His garb was torn and filthy, covered with cuts, snags, and dried blood. He looked as if he had been traveling for weeks. His face was heavy with exhaustion, but his eyes were burning as he looked at me.

I suddenly remembered an earlier thought. I ignored Edge's odd look as I hiked my skirts high above my knees, scrambling in the stupid excess fabric. I knew in the top of my left boot I kept a small collection of - ah, yes...

I pulled out two capsules, liquid-filled pills that gleamed golden in my palm. I swallowed one Elixir and offered the other to Edge, who took it gratefully. I felt the strength of the potent drug race through my veins almost immediately.

"How did you -?" I was still amazed by his sudden appearance.

"What happened?" Edge asked, his eyes intent on me, feverish.

"I - well - there's no time. The men here are enemies, leftovers from Baron when it was under the control of Kainazzo. They've taken over the town, and they got me when I was least expecting it." I reached for the cuffs and dangled them from my fingers. "These cut off all my magic, too."

I suddenly threw my arms around him, the Elixir in my blood allowing me to ignore the pain. "God, Edge," I whispered, "I'm so glad you're here..."

He grasped me tight against him, murmuring something into my hair. But suddenly I heard two sounds: a rustling upstairs that reminded me of poor Maara and a horrible amount of shouting right outside the door -

"I have to get Maara," I cried, vaulting for the stairs.

Edge was already in front of the door, swords drawn; there was a terrible pounding, as if the men were trying to break the door down. "Hurry," he warned in a low voice.

I threw myself up the stairs, trying to block out the sounds from the first floor. My memories came flooding back and intuition led me to Maara's bedroom. A quick lightning spell fried the lock, and I flung myself inside.

Maara was on the bed, hands and legs bound, looking worried and weary but otherwise unhurt. "Little Rydia," she whispered as I bent over her, trying to cut the bonds around her hands. I had a small dagger I always kept with me (in the other boot) but the ropes had been fortified by some sort of magic. As I hacked away, panicking, she continued to ramble.

"I knew you were coming," she said. "They tried to spell me too, but I'm so old the spell didn't stick ..heh heh ... the benefits of age ...and they knew I was the only one who'd warn you, too, the children are untouched, but they don't understand..." She coughed, and there was a horrible violent sound from downstairs. I sliced the last fiber from her arms and went to work on untying her feet.

"Rydia, what's going on," Maara asked suddenly, massaging her wrists. I was so focused on freeing her that I barely heard the question. I didn't notice until her old, gnarled hand came into my field of vision, resting gently upon the small dagger.

"I'll do it," the old woman said faintly. "I got some strength left in me. You go help him."

I looked at her, alarm growing in my eyes. She shooed me out the door. I headed down the stairs, alarmed -

The room was empty. The door had been flung open, and there was a long trail of blood leading outside.

I didn't even stop to think - I just ran.

I could see a small gathering of the soldiers, chasing a small speck of something over towards the forest. I was panting as I ran, urging my entire body forward past the exhaustion and pain. I remembered a voice saying, Get the others ...hid in the woods ... I was trying to call out, but all of my awareness was focused on getting to where Edge was. I sprinted, my arms pumping, feet slamming into the ground, urging and beseeching all the powers I knew to give me the strength to get there on time. I could barely see anything around me; all I heard was the whistle of the wind in my face, all I could see was Edge's exhaustion... I didn't notice when my straining feet stopped hitting the ground. I didn't notice as the wings spread from my back and my body lifted into the air. The only thought in my mind was of my friend.





Out of the mist came a dragon.

The men who were chasing the ninja into the forest stopped suddenly, having heard an odd cry on the wind: one of power, anger, righteousness and revenge. The men crouched in the forest stood slowly at the cry. The village had suddenly become cloaked in mist - but not the familiar mist of the valley. This mist was thick with magic and history; it clung to the legs and trailed from the face. The sun raked through it, empowering it with fierce energy.

And out of the mist came a dragon. It was black, blacker than nightmares, its scales lighting up in silver and gold as the sun teased colors from their obsidian depths. Two graceful ebony spikes rose from its beautiful, terrible face; a soft green mane fell down its back. Its tail was long and slender, dark as night, and tipped with horns, like a whip. Wings rose from the beast's back; huge, lovely, fearsome wings. Three solid black tendons fanned out; between them stretched delicate, transparent green skin that shimmered with gold in the sunlight. The dragon beat its wings once, and the sound was like trumpets and doom. Its eyes were green-blue, and sparkled; only the ninja recognized them.

The dragon itself was hovering over the ground, looking around. Its beast-vision told it that many of the men were not human; they were horrible crooked demons masquerading as men. The dragon-sight enabled it to count the army hidden in the trees and the array of men splayed around the fallen body of the ninja. The dragon knew that it could easily destroy these evil half-men, the fiends and devils. But tucked away somewhere in its consciousness was a familiar voice, and the dragon knew that it had to protect the ninja.

It beat its wings again and roared. The noise was not noise; rather it was a physical feeling, like a torrential rain that burnt the skin like acid. When the demon-men would not get out of its way, the dragon screamed fire at them and burnt their bodies to ash. The wings beat again, once - twice - and the dragon was hovering over the body of the ninja. Its green eyes, so much like human eyes, dared the men around to attack it.

Being demons, they did attack. But the dragon's scales were hard as armor, and its claws were as sharp as blades. The first rank was taken care of with a swipe of one mighty paw; the second with one lash of the whip-like tail. The third attack was one of magic, but the dragon merely opened its maw wide and swallowed the fire and the lightning and the ice and then spit back molten burning anger in which the third rank of men drowned. The fourth rank of men took to their heels and ran away.

There were only a handful of men left, but by dragon-sight they were the most evil, the most powerful and potent. One was the leader of all the men, said that inner voice. Be careful.

The man was trying to speak, but he didn't know dragon-speech; the great tail snaked out and pierced through one of the soldiers. The ones left had drawn swords and were trying to marshal their courage, stabbing forward. The black dragon would not leave its protective position over the ninja, however. One by one, the men tripped and fell, or were clawed to pieces, or fell subject to the wrath of flame that was dragon-magic. Only the last man remained.

The dragon reared up to its greatest height; rearing its head back, it roared. Summoning forth all of the power inherent in the great race of dragons, it cast forth a spell. Its white magic laced around the dark spirit of the man. The light grew brighter and brighter; the man was screaming, a loud, horrible scream, a demon-scream of great proportions. Finally the shadows crumbled and gave way to the force of the potent dragon-magic. As the body was destroyed light flew all about the village.

The dragon remained, hovering in the air. There were noises around it - a single voice it felt it should recognize, calling something ...the dragon ...its name ...?

Rydia.

That was the name of the voice inside its head.

And naming that voice suddenly let loose a torrent of voices, a storm of memories. It saw a white dragon, made of the magical mist from which it was born, speaking as if to comfort it. There was another dragon there, crowned in dragon-sight with a crown of light; and inside its head it heard:

...you have the soul of a dragon!

The black dragon remembered who it was.



And suddenly I came back, falling out of the air, landing in Edge's outstretched arms. I grabbed onto his torn shirt and buried my face in his chest, weeping with exhaustion and joy and despair and loss. He threw his arms around me and held me fiercely as if he were afraid I was going to go somewhere. But I couldn't move, stunned by the memories of what had just happened.

In the blood of my family runs the ability to soul-summon. The women of my line were always the protectors of the Village, using this gift as a shield against intruders. Soul-summoning is a power granted only to the very strong; the Caller actually becomes the beast. It is much more powerful, yet much more dangerous; thus was my mother slain in battle. The beast that emerges from a soul-summon is a representation of the power of the Caller's very soul.

And thus I had summoned forth all of my heritage and will and might - and become a dragon. I had finally lived up to my mother's example, become what I had never dreamt of becoming. I was a soul-summoner. And my soul ...like Bahamut had told me, there were dragons in my soul.

I rested my head on Edge's shoulder, my body strewn across his lap; he seemed content to hold me, unmoving. I sensed a commotion about us and knew that the villagers were gathering about us, whispering. I hoped the dragon-spell had freed them from Koren's control at last.

We finally stood, clasping each other's hands awkwardly with awkward smiles; I wasn't yet ready to let go of the comfort. The people of the Village Mist stood a little back from us, awed and amazed. I saw the recognition in their eyes; they not only knew exactly what I had become, but they had finally realized the spell they had been under. I saw Maara, hobbling on her cane, carrying a basket I could guess was full of her famous healing supplies. But no one would approach us.

Until a small figure darted out from under someone's arm and threw herself at me: Remy, her dark hair tousled around her face, her eyes wide with tears. "Riddy," she scolded, "you should've warned me, cause I wouldn't have looked."

I scooped her up and clutched her close. Everyone was laughing now, and I felt the people of Mist closing in, helping to steady Edge and I, rushing at us with well-wishes and thanks and potions, trying to motion us into the inn so we could rest, offering apologies and healing spells. Edge caught my eye, bemused, as the crowd led us to the Inn for a well-deserved relaxing nap.

The dangers, finally, were gone.