Author's notes: Seizu Moltann is a character from my web comic, Dark Arts: Final Fantasy Tactics. You can check it out at www.geocities.com/aceryonik

Final Fantasy Tactics doesn't belong to me, but to Squaresoft and its affiliates.

April 14th, 473 A.A.



I've finally been assigned to a unit in the Hokuten. So far, the war has been going on for 24 years. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if both sides' kings die of old age at this rate. I remember when this was pushed as a speedy resolution for the control of the crown...

I suppose that I've been training for battle for about five months up until now. Being a black mage, survival training was much different from what I had previously endured. After having my psyche broken down and rebuilt completely numerous times to train myself, it was pure hell to go through it again with my body. I guess I'm just not built for that sort of thing. Well, I made it, anyway. At least now I know that the layers of Hell I went through with Master Gerhart weren't there for no reason.

I didn't see too much action, today. My squadron, along with two others comprised mostly of archers and knights, was ordered to stand guard at Fort Yardow. A band of thieves must have gotten lost or something, because quite a few wound up where we were stationed. I stayed back, but a few of the soldiers that had been guarding the area for much longer than I got bored and led an attack on them.

As it turned out, there was a bounty out for the group of thieves that they killed, so everyone on guard duty received a reward for their cooperation. I'm not too sure how I feel about it, but my pay's not coming until next week, so...

April 15th - April 26th, 473 A.A.

Aside from the occasional suspicious character, my time on guard duty was very uneventful. Times like these give me a chance to get to know my comrades-in-arms, so I don't complain too often. The newer cadets, like myself, sometimes point out how boring the pause in action is. The more experienced ones frown upon such reasoning, saying that the battles themselves aren't at all glamorous, and that haste will only lead to death.

Myself, I try not to take any sides in the frequent arguments. However, sometimes I hope for some action, as well. After all, I didn't join the Hokuten knights so I could stand outside of a building all day.

April 29th, 473 A.A.

Those among us that wished for some action... well... our wish came true. Disaster is the only way that I can describe what happened. To put it simply, Yardow, the Fort City, is no longer under control of King Denamunda.

It was the most well thought-out, and at the same time, most barbaric battle plan that I had ever seen in my life. Over the past few weeks, King Denamunda had been hiring migrant workers to maintain the city while its residents were at war. However, we discovered some interesting evidence in one of the worker's homes, yesterday: Romandan flags.

By the time any of us were able to do anything, the town was in flames. Conjured spirits flew through the air, laying waste to the fortress and all around it. The false migrants proceeded to kill all the remaining residents in town: the women, children, and enfeebled. A great deal of our men were killed, as well.

By the time the dust finally settled, the once-proud fortress stood n ruins, with corpses strewn about. I overheard a conversation between two survivors.

"Who were those people?"

"The Death Corps., obviously."

"Death Corps.? Is that what they're called?"

"Of course not. Those sons of bitches don't deserve a title... But what else would you call a group of heartless bastards like them?"

He was telling the truth. There was barely any part of the road not covered with blood, bone, or flesh. Even after the fires had burnt themselves out, there were still plenty of leftovers to remind us of what happened. Right now, I think that I feel the same as everyone else, and the way I feel is: if I EVER meet another member of this "Death Corps.", I will ignite him with a flame so powerful that the traces can NEVER be found.