Act 1: Scene 3

My day of condemnation came just seven years after my awakening.

Garland summoned me to the Pandemonium, something that was not in itself unusual, but I had a bad feeling about it anyway.

"Kuja." He still spoke my name as if I were filth. "I need you to go down to Bran Baal and fetch a Genome."

I sneered. "A Genome? That's it? Can't you do your own dirty work, Garland? Fetch it yourself! I have better things to do!"

"No, Kuja. You will fetch this Genome. It must be your choice."

"What's on your twisted mind this time?"

Garland smiled secretively. "Just do it."

Scowling, I walked at a leisurely pace to Bran Baal. Garland would wait as long as I felt necessary. And then I realised how vague the instructions given to me had been. Fetch any Genome? There were several dozen here in Bran Baal. It had to be my choice? Why?

"You're a fool, Garland," I hissed between my teeth, and stalked into the underground laboratory, scanning the area for available Genomes.

This was stupid. I didn't even know what I was looking for!

But the Genome closest to me was making my stomach queasy. There was nothing extraordinary about his appearance, and he was still as soulless as the others, but . . .

A sense of impending doom rattled through my body. Irritably, I grabbed the Genome's arm. He turned to look at me, expression blank as ever.

"What is it that you want?"

"You're coming with me," I said through gritted teeth, and tried to drag the Genome up the stairs. He wouldn't budge, however.

"Why?" he asked.

I glared at him. "The almighty Garland commands it, is that good enough?"

"The will of Garland is absolute. He is synonymous with air and fire and -"

"Yes, wonderful, now hurry up!"

He followed with no further ado. Somehow I managed to drag him into Pandemonium, though he kept stopping near each natural feature to study it and wouldn't move until I yelled at him that his precious Garland was waiting.

"He's a pretty short specimen," was Garland's remark when I brought the Genome to him.

"You didn't give a specification," I snapped. "What in Terra do you want him for? You never bothered with another vessel before now."

"Ah, but today, things are going to change."

Garland was smiling that patronising smile again. I resisted the urge to hit it.

"Why today? What are you planning now?"

"Kuja," he said, and started pacing. I hated it when he started pacing. It was one of his habits that really annoyed me. "Kuja, soon you will have to go down to Gaia and start to disrupt the cycle. You know what to do, don't you?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course. Don't you think I can remember a set of instructions?"

"That's not it." Garland stopped moving, and glared at me over his high-bridged nose. "I don't trust you, Kuja."

"What?" Of course, he had every reason not to, but he wasn't supposed to know that!

"I've been planning this for quite some time, ever since you first questioned me. Even the Genomes know by now!" He laughed maliciously. "Kuja, you're the only one who doesn't know!"

"What don't I know?" I yelled.

"This Genome," and Garland placed a hand on its shoulder, "is to be your . . . partner."

"I don't need a soulless partner."

"Oh, he won't be soulless for very long!"

My eyes widened. "You can't do that! This is my task! My destiny! I won't allow you to hand it to another!"

The bright red light in Garland's chest flared, and the Genome began to breathe raggedly, collapsing to his knees.

I leapt at my Maker. The gift of life was mine alone! I would not share it with another! I would not have him condemning me to second best!

The spell Garland cast was so powerful that I was thrown halfway across the room by its force. Lying on the floor, my eyes wide, I began to moan.

"You can't do this to me, Garland! I can do this on my own!"

"You?" He laughed outright. "You? Kuja, you are worthless, weak and a waste of my time! This new Named one will almost certainly be more competent than you could ever be!"

The light faded. The Genome collapsed to the floor. I propped myself up on my elbows, feeling sick to the stomach. To be held with such little regard . . .

I closed my eyes tightly and suppressed the tears that threatened to burst from them. I vowed never to show weakness in Garland's presence.

"Garland!" In that one cry, I incorporated every single piece of raw, bloody hatred I had for him. I wanted to swear at him, kick him, bite him even. But he still had power over me. I could moan all I liked but I couldn't stop him from walking all over me. That spiralling helplessness began to consume me, and I closed my eyes ever more tightly, wanting to throw up. Why did he torment me so? I never asked to be this way! I never asked him to create me! Why me? Why not some other hapless Genome, without feelings and emotions that could be twisted and torn if Garland pulled too hard on his puppet's strings?

I staggered to my feet, my vision a heated blur, and ran.

Not until the gate leading out of Pandemonium neared did I slow down enough to breathe, but it was a shaky affair. The world glimmered, and I was back in Bran Baal on my hands and knees and quite prepared to pass out with the intensity of the emotions that whirled like bouts of fire inside me.

"Kuja."

Startled, I looked up. The silver dragon was already waiting for me. I had but one thought.

Escape.

I ran some more, leaping onto the creature's back and willing it far, far away from Pandemonium, from Bran Baal, from Garland . . .

The ride was uneventful. The silver dragon did not speak until we landed, so I spent the flight trembling against its body, cold and in a deep state of shock.

The dragon landed me on a distant tower. I practically fell off its back, still shivering and numb.

"You are safe here."

"I'm not," I choked. "I'm not safe anywhere. Even when I'm discarded onto Gaia, he will continue to hurt me . . ." Closing my eyes, I felt my throat begin to tighten. "He knew he didn't need another . . . he knew I could do it. The only reason he forged another to be Named was to cause me more pain! I hate him! I hate him for being stronger than me and I hate myself for being unable to fight back!"

Then the bitter tears came.

Ashamed, I dropped my head into my arms and buried my face.

"Garland thinks nothing of me!" I sobbed. "He thinks I am useless and weak and a failure!"

The silver dragon said nothing. Instead, it shuffled forward, and lowered its head to my height. Feathers rained down, and I glanced up to see its wings curled protectively around me. Eyes wide, I stared at it.

"What are you doing?" And on that train of thought . . . "How did you know I wanted to get away?"

The dragon's eyes whirled, slowly but fiercely. "I felt your pain. I feel it now. Our minds have become more and more attuned to each other's since that first fight." It settled onto its belly, forepaws extended gracefully, but its wings continued to encircle me. "I understand you."

Well, the dragon was the only one.

"There will be times for strength later on," it said softly, like a whisper of wind. "But now you require comfort. And I am here for you."

It was now so close to my tense body that its smooth hide brushed my skin. I rested my head against its lithe form, my forehead and eyes aching with stress and tears that had waited so long to break the surface of my agony. I could try all I wanted to hide it, to pretend I was strong enough to deal with it, but I was alone, I had always been alone, and I would probably always be alone. No one other than myself cared for my fate besides the silver dragon, the only creature able to understand my plight, and it wasn't even a member of my species!

"He thinks he can break me," I said through gritted teeth. "Well, there'll come a day when I'll show all of them! Garland, the Genomes and that runt of a soul-bearer . . . they'll see exactly what a 'failure' is capable of!"

End of Act 1: Scene 3