Part three. All rejoice! Read and review, please.
Disclaimer: We don't own Final Fantasy IX. We own our characters, though.
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Chapter Three
Having recently left the conversation with their ally, the two young Genomes made their way back through the Invincible, towards Kuja's room, which was basically their refuge from Garland.
Kuja peered around every corner before moving on; he was very aware of the fact that Garland would probably be searching for them, knowing that they had done something not of his bidding. The young man had requested that Sephira search the airship with her mind and she had come with the results that their old keeper was on the other side of the ship, but moving towards them fairly quickly. So they sped up.
Rounding the last corner to the corridor that contained their rooms, they quickened their pace even more. As they reached the door, Kuja placed his hand on the knob and began to turn, just as Sephira gasped and hid behind Kuja. Garland had just rounded the corner and was coming towards them. Seeing them, the old man began to run. Kuja struggled with the handle for a moment, his sweaty hands slipping off the knob, but succeeded in turning it and they tumbled into Kuja's room, Kuja slamming the door behind him, leaning on it to hold it closed as they heard Garland pounding on the other side.
"Let me in this instant! Where have you been?" he shouted. Kuja winced as Sephira backed away from the door and into the adjacent wall. The young man shook his head, as though to clear it, before answering.
"We have been nowhere, Garland. All we have been doing was wandering through the craft." Kuja started as the pounding began anew, coming more violently from the other side.
"I don't believe you one bit! Come out here now!"
"We would rather stay in here, Master," Sephira replied, coming forward to lean on the door with Kuja, who moved slightly to the side to give her some room. They heard Garland sigh in frustration, snarl, then his footsteps leaving the corridor.
The two Genomes remained silent for a moment, not even daring to breath. Then, Sephira exhaled and looked up at Kuja.
"Is he... gone?"
Kuja turned slowly and quietly unlocked and opened the door an inch. Peering out, he checked the corridor. Seeing no one, he shut the door again and locked it once more.
"I see no soul." Sighing, he left the door and sat on the bed, placing his chin in his hands. "He gave up too easily. Why?"
"I have no clue," Sephira snapped, edgy from their encounter. Kuja's eyes flicked up to her, searching her. She said nothing and sat down in the armchair. She bit her lip in agitation and crossed her arms and legs, staring at nothing in anger.
"What is it?" Kuja asked softly. She shot a look at him and returned to staring at nothing. Shaking her head to try and flick some hair from her face, she reached up and pulled her locks out of her eyes. Biting her index finger in anixiety, she sighed.
"Are we never going to break free. Shall he rule us forever, Kuja." She said this as a statement, not a question. Her gaze settled on him and he shifted, feeling almost uncomfortable. He never liked it when people thought themselves more intelligent than he. Of course, he made an exception to his companion, but it still got under his skin.
"Of course," he muttered, inclining his head to look at the ground. A shiver involuntarily passed through him and he fiddled with his sleeves, wanting to do something with his hands, anything, to just take his mind slightly off of the fact that her gaze was still fixed on him.
"Really, Kuja. Do not lie to yourself."
"I am not lying," he mumbled, becoming even more uncomfortable. Tapping his fingers on his legs, he looked up at her for a moment. She was still staring at him.
"Kuja, you are not telling the truth, so therefore, you are lying. You know that as well as I do and—"
"Why should you know anything about me?" he shouted, breaking his discomfort and jumping to his feet. He clenched his fists and glared at her. "Why should you know anything about me?" he repeated, angrily, but a little quieter. Normally, Sephira would have given into his anger and tried to calm him down. Instead, she got to her feet and glared up at him, placing her hands on her hips.
"I know things about you, Kuja, because I do! Do you ask why the sun rises and sets? No. Why should you ask why I know you, when we have been together for so long?" she cried, placing her hands on his chest and bracing herself as she leaned over, resting her head on him. "I know you because I know you." Shoving him, he stumbled backwards against a wall. Jerking his head up, he stared at her in disbelief for a moment, before giving into his boiling anger.
"Why the hell did you do that?" he shouted, starting forward. She smirked.
"See? I know you. You let your guard down because you thought I had given up, or that I was about to apologize." Smiling smugly, she sat back down in the armchair, crossing her arms. "And you will not touch me now, because you are afraid of hurting me. I am the only thing you have, so you do not want to stop me." Closing her eyes, she waited for him to reply. Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her to her feet as she gasped, then he turned and shoved her. She tripped and fell on the bed, rolling over until she was facing the ceiling. Breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down, she turned her head slightly towards Kuja, her eyes narrowing.
"Damn you." She lay there, catching her breath. He strode over and gazed down at her, an appraising look on his face. He arched an eyebrow and gave a small laugh.
"You look so vulnerable, did you know?" Leaning over, he caught her by the wrists and pinned them above her head, trapping her on the bed. Gazing down at her, he smiled and brought his head forward. Her breath quickened even more, her eyes widened slightly, a tense and exciting feeling rising from the bottom of her stomach up to her heart, which pounded hard, almost painfully so, in her breast, which still heaved up and down. Bringing his nose to hers, he smirked and straightened up, letting her go.
"I have the power over you, angel. Do not forget it."
She sat up, her chest and shoulders heaving as she gasped in breath, her face slightly red. He turned back to her and chucked her under the chin. She snarled and narrowed her eyes. "I shall not forget it, but I shall fight it, until one day, I am equal you, or better."
He laughed quietly. "I am sure you will, angel. I am sure you will." He strode to the door. Turning back to her, he held out his arm. "I am going for a small stroll. Care to join me?"
Sephira smiled angrily and stood, passing him and opening the door, refusing his arm, but still consenting to the walk. Kuja laughed under his breath, his eyes full of merriment.
"You do not know how much that pleases me."
Whirling to face him, she smirked. "I think I do. I know you."
Kuja chuckled and caught up with her. They made their way back through the hallways of the Invincible, enjoying their time. They had nothing to hide from Garland at the moment, so they considered themselves safe.
Making their way to the cockpit, they ignored the lifeless Genome pilot and strolled to the large window. Kuja sighed and leaned against the glass, placing his nose to it, as though he were a willful child, watching something in a store window.
"Clouds. They drift along with no cares in the world. How I wish to be a cloud, to be free of worry, the only thing on my mind the sun, the sky, the open air, the life, the joy I bring when I water the earth and the plants and the shade I give the beings on the surface, shielding them from the sun. Ah, to be a cloud is to be free."
Sephira giggled a little and watched the clouds with him for a while. They stared out at the white, fluffy pillow-like objects, not speaking to one another, but communicating silently, not with words, or mind. Just through their silence, they could understand each other and how the other felt. It was almost a trance they worked themselves into, not words, just mindless, joyful staring.
Kuja's long, desperate, almost longing, sigh, brought them both back to reality. Sephira blinked and slowly shook her head, clearing her mind. Kneeling, she leaned against the glass, staring longingly out. The airship had passed through the clouds and they could see a small bit of grass. The plains stretched out underneath them, rolling greenery as far as the eye could see. She placed a hand on the glass, sighing.
Kuja, seeing her distress, kneeled beside her and wrapped her in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and nuzzling her nose in the fabric, which was cold with the radiating chill of the metal around them. She could feel the familiar twitch at the corner of her mouth and the pricking in the corners of her eyes. Struggling the staunch her sorrow, she gave a dry sob. Kuja's hand rested on the back of her head, twining and stroking her hair.
"I am okay, Kuja."
"I know. You are strong."
"I am not. But I am enough for this." She wrapped one arm around his neck, holding him to her, for a feeling of protection and comfort. That was what he was to her. Comfort, protection, joy, even a little love.
They leaned over to rest against the glass, Sephira resting her head on his shoulder. He drew his knees to him, and she to her, and they nestled there together, drawing warmth and strength from each other. They didn't move for hours. At one point, Sephira, through half-closed eyes, saw Garland step into the cockpit, check on the piloting Genome and leave. He didn't even seem to notice the young pair. So she closed her eyes again and slept, not aware that Kuja watched everything with awareness, even though his eyes were partially closed. He didn't want to be caught unguarded.
"There is no rest for the weary," he murmured to himself, keeping his voice low enough to not awake his companion, who slept peacefully. "None at all."
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"Sir! Unidentified airship off to the port side!"
"What!? Call them!"
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Viteros looked at Zidane and said, "They're trying to talk to us. See that flashing light? It's in a code that we're supposed to understand if we're air sailors."
"Are we air sailors?" Zidane really doubted it.
Viteros smiled thinly and pulled out a double-bladed staff from the wall, and handed it to Zidane. "No. I don't think so."
Zidane gripped the handle tightly and said, "So. What are we doing?"
"Breaking and entering. Ready? Your friends are there. We're storming the ship, we strike hard and fast, grab your buds, and we leave like fishes with a rock thrown in the water."
Zidane just looked at him blankly. "Huh?"
Viteros just shook his head. "Let's just rock."
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A few minutes later, Viteros stood in the cockpit, his hand over three red buttons. He called back to Zidane, "You ready?"
Standing at the edge of the ship, Zidane shouted, "Yeah! Let's go!"
Viteros quickly slammed the red buttons and then pushed a larger blue one that opened the door to the ship. The relatively massive cargo door opened, whipping Zidane with wind. The young thief watched as three grappling hooks shot out and embedded themselves into the side of the much larger airship next to them. Viteros ran into the cargo hold and yelled over the loud wind, "Zidane! I've set the ship on autopilot! We're boarding! You ready!"
In answer, Zidane ran to the edge of the cargo hold, but just before he fell out he leapt and landed on the taut wire and slid down to the opposing airship, blade staff in hand, already whirling to defeat two soldiers who urgently ran up and were promptly thrown to the ground, knocked unconscious by sturdy hits by the flats of the blades.
Viteros followed close by, sliding on another wire. He jumped off and the metal-clad right hand appeared again, and with the customary loud noise a soldier fell. Black cloak swirling, Viteros turned to Zidane and said, "Let's go! I've got ranged attack; I'll be right behind you!"
Zidane nodded, and ran quickly across the balcony to a door. Just before they ran through, a small white, winged creature jumped off the roof and onto the scene right in front of them. Zidane looked at it and said, "Hey! It's a moogle!" he looked at Viteros and said, "Have you ever wondered why they keep appearing in the weirdest places?"
Viteros looked at the moogle and, with his chin in his hand, he said, "You know, I did! I never really understood it either…"
Zidane looked at the moogle. "Hmmm…."
Viteros looked at the moogle. "Hmmm…."
Zidane stroked a nonexistent mustache. "Hmmm…"
Viteros stroked a nonexistent goatee. "Hmmm…"
Then Zidane said, "This is stupid. Let's keep going, we don't have any time to waste!"
"Wait," said his companion, still looking at the moogle, "I need to save."
"What?"
"Wait, my memory card is full…we will continue!"
Zidane shook his head as they kept going. "You're so weird…"
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Inside, the two separated. They reached a "T" hall and so each had to go down one hall, Viteros left and Zidane right. Zidane hurried down only to find a guard rushing at him with a spear. The two passed…and the guard found himself raging as Zidane held up the potion that he had just pickpocketed. The thief drank it down in one gulp, wiped his face, and threw the empty bottle at the guard. The man clutched his face as blood came from his nose, but then curled up and fell as a swift groin kick connected.
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Viteros preferred a more stealthy method. Keeping to the shadows and taking advantage of the chaos, he quietly snuck up behind unfortunate men and hit them hard over the head, putting a hand over their mouths to keep them silent. Once in a while an unfortunate soldier felt cold steel slide into his back, and a strong hand clamp over his mouth.
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Zidane burst into the engine room, blades flashing. He looked around and then ran towards who appeared to be the only engineer in there. He ran up and held a blade at the man's throat and said, "Move and you die!" The engineer stiffened and said, "Don't hurt me. I'll cooperate."
Zidane slowly steered the man towards the engine, a huge rotor that created electrical energy for the usage of the airship. He said menacingly, "Turn it off. Now."
The man hurried to comply, while Zidane stood guard, just in case anyone tried to come in and cause trouble. After the rotors were turned off guards would stream in here, letting the ones who guarded the prison have much less backup against the mysterious little person who would initiate their demise. After knocking the engineer out, Zidane hurriedly ran towards the prison complex, the lights around him flickering and dying.
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Viteros laughed as the lights went out. Yes, the kid was smart. He knew that they had already been 'caught' and so did not try for stealth at all. How might he do in other battles?
Not the time to wonder. Time to fight. Viteros flew around a corner and ran into a contingent of three soldiers, causing the fighter not to stop but to increase speed, and leap onto one of them. Viteros held his gun at the man's head and said, "Nobody move!" The other soldiers merely glared and rushed, swords drawn.
This had caught him by complete surprise, and he ran down the hall, firing randomly and frantically. "Ah, it's not fair! You guys were mine!"
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Zidane jumped into the room from the air vents, shouting, swinging the blade staff, smashing into two guards, spinning and hitting a third. "Die!"
Zidane looked around and knew he had reached his destination, the prison complex. With each injury he sustained, he felt the power in him growing, and knew that the mysterious power that Viteros spoke about…'Limit Break'…was going to be critical in his war. He would get little scratches, and he would feel the power radiating from the pain. A blood sacrifice? He would have to see if Viteros had any more books about Limit Break when they got back…
"Hey, you're not supposed to-aagh!"
"Stop, you!"
"Wait, what is he…"
The blood pounded in Zidane's ears, his heartbeat raced, and the adrenaline ripped through his body, giving him strength, speed. Power, power…being injured gave him power. Being all right gave him power. He was unstoppable. A juggernaut.
Zidane finally got to a floor that said "Prison Level" on the door, and he smashed it open without thinking how incredible it was that he could reduce a five-inch wooden door into splinters with but a kick. He hurried in, looking…looking…
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A soldier on either side…a split kick should do nicely.
Viteros jumped into the air, cleaving it with his legs as they went to each side, knocking down a guard on each side with a hit to the face. As he landed, he said to himself, "I wonder how many ninja movies have used that one."
Viteros himself was hunting for the two contacts, Kuja and Sephira, but they were nowhere to be seen. Probably they were in a maximum security. No way could they really ever be set loose, especially if what he had heard was true…that Kuja and Zidane were similar, and Sephira, the only remnant of the dark Project: Angel.
Finally getting into a room full of books, Viteros allowed himself a smile. There were books everywhere; this was probably Garland's private library. Perfect for some 'study'.
Viteros pulled a book off of the shelf that said "Shadow Bible".
Intrigued, he opened it, and saw on the first page a scrawled note that he assumed was by Terisas, from the fancy, looped, but cruel writing-
My friend Garland, if I may humbly present this gift to you. You and I are not religious, my friend, but I have found this book incredibly interesting, and actually somewhat useful in my activities. You won't believe it until you read it, trust me!
Clipped into the first page was a picture. It showed two young men Viteros could only assume were Terisas and Garland. Terisas, with his sharp features and black, hole-like eyes, and Garland, who was already beginning to have whitening hair, even though he was probably in his late twenties in the picture. He wore a short, dark beard, but his eyes were the same. Always the same.
Viteros flipped the book open to a random page and was surprised to see what he had turned to.
22. "Henceforth, it came to pass the darkness overtook the land, not as a warrior does, but as a shadow, insinuating itself slowly and quietly among the hearts of men. Behold, they were easily swayed to the force of evil, of greed, of hate, of madness. The devil carefully ensareth them in his chains, and then he leadeth them carefully down to hell."
23. "For behold, darkness always hath lived in the hearts of men. For all eternity has man lusted after power, money, and even fame. Hence, it was but a simple matter for the darkness of eternity to consume their hearts. For the hearts of men are easily forsaken for earthly pleasures."
24. "And so it came to pass that man believed he was as powerful as the Iifa Tree, yea, even as God, repeating the mistake that so many hath made before. The false belief of man's own divinity. For behold, man hath nothing but potential, yea, nothing more than such, with no tools but the ability to manipulate them, spare of instinct but plentiful of intelligence. Man is potential, nothing but potential, and so for eternity it shall be hence."
25. "But then, as such, the spirit of the tempter may enter their hearts and twist their souls into vile darkness. And so he wrappeth his chains of wrath 'round their hearts and souls, and quench their thirst for the things of the world, and bringeth them down into destruction of the unearthly. So worketh the tempter."
26. "Behold, but always shall there be opposition to the darkness forever. Hence, warriors must rise from each generation, each of incredible past, and conquer the evil for a while, before it shall rise again. For behold, darkness shall always rise again. Dying lasts for but a moment, but death is eternal. Henceforth, so is hell. Always will humanity fight with the darkness and also succumb. Darkness never dies. It only but sleeps."
Master Kalisanej the Unholy Prophet, Chapter 19, Verses 22-26
Viteros found himself moved by the passage…moved…uneasy. He glared down at the page and said to himself, "I need to get me one of these. It seems to be very…useful…"
Being so immersed in the book, he didn't feel the air swish with the passage of the dart, didn't feel the intruder Genome walk in the room, and, being so full of the nerve poison, didn't feel the pain in his knees and face as he fell to the floor.
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"Viiiiviiiii! Steeeeiiiiiner! Freeeya! Eeeeeiko! Quiiiiiinaaaa! *breath* Daaaaaaaggeeeeeer!"
Zidane hurriedly ran down the prison halls, looking through bars into cells, wondering where they were…where could they be…dead? No…not dead…best not to think like that…
Finally, when Zidane was passing a cell, he heard two voices somewhat arguing in a cell.
"Ach, I said to move out af ze vey, but nooo, you are just tzoooo schmart fur me! Zo you zay, 'Letz just keep goin'! They're bound to move away fur us!"
"That's not true! I said let's dodge, but no, you…you…"
"Ah, vait! Zee here, here iz a kit, one who can help uz out ov zis dire predicament! Vat's your name, kit?"
Zidane went to the bars and looked at the two strange figures in front of him. One was a huge, burly man, wearing mostly leather, and ripped leather at that. A thin cloth shirt, baggy leather pants, leather vest, torn leather gloves…his black hair was wild and unkempt, his jagged scar going from his ear to his cleft chin made him look like a beast, but his soft brown eyes radiated a kindness, if not much intelligence.
The other one was a chubby little man, with fat hands and a bald head, with the exception of little bits of hair on the side, and a long, droopy gray moustache. He had red-tinted blue eyes, and was dressed in the long, flowing silky robes of a travel-teller, one of the traveling bards who told stories for money and shelter. The other one was probably his bodyguard. Their voices told told much, the strong one was not the brightest but earnest, and the little one had an oily, calculating, but not wholly evil voice.
"I'm…Zidane," he said.
"Aah, Zidane! A very proper name, iz it not, Garret?"
"Whatever. Are you changing the subject, Odine?"
"Me? No! Vat vould make you sink such a thing! You baboon!"
Odine turned back to Zidane and said in his oily voice, "My young friend, as you can see, ve are in a very…unfortunate zituation. You zee, ve vere captured by zis ship when my incompetent donkey ov an azziztant dezided zat zey vouldn't hit us ven ve parked in zeir vay!"
"Sorry, Odine, but I just thought…"
"Thought!? Vat vere you sinking!? I do all of ze sinking around here, bozo!"
Garret looked at Zidane and shrugged. "He's actually usually pretty nice. He's just in a bad mood."
"Zat's right, boy," said Odine, turning back again, "Zidane, was it? Yes, a good name, for a good-looking young boy. Vell…ve'd like to get out of here, you zee, could you help us, ve'd be eternally grateful, right Garret?"
"Yeah," said the strong man, nodding, "We'd pay you very well!"
"Ach! You mean I vould pay heem. Ay voy! Vell, boy, vould you do it? Ve had much gil before they took it from me, but I don't carry all ov my gil with me! I'd go to my bank in Burmecia and get much, zo, zo much for you!"
"I'll help," said Zidane with a slight smile at the two's antics, "you never need a reason to help people. Not even money."
"Yess! Zank you, sank you! You are truly a noble young man. Zat is great. Wait a minute…did you hear that sound? Garret?"
"I'd be quiet, Odine."
The three were silent, and they heard the sound-the unmistakable zing of a sword, and the fleshy impact of a blade to muscle. "Who would be…"
Zidane looked around nervously, glancing at all the doors. Suddenly, he saw a door slowly creak open, and a body fell in. He saw a man walk past. His articulated features made him look like a beautifully carved sculpture; so much was his physical perfection. On his back were six dark wings, folded to make room for him in the small hall. He held in each hand a long katana, and one was bloodied. The man looked at Zidane with fierce magenta eyes, and Zidane felt a chill run up and down his spine.
What…what the…what the hell was that?
Zidane shook his head. This wasn't the time to worry, but the time for action! He turned back to the two and said, "I need to leave right now. I'll be right back, hold on, guys."
"Boy, Boy, it iss all richt, az long az you free uz laterrrr. Sank you in advnaz, boy, and hopefully zee you later…in good hehls!"
Zidane left at a run, hurrying, hurrying…Viteros…where was he!?
Disclaimer: We don't own Final Fantasy IX. We own our characters, though.
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Chapter Three
Having recently left the conversation with their ally, the two young Genomes made their way back through the Invincible, towards Kuja's room, which was basically their refuge from Garland.
Kuja peered around every corner before moving on; he was very aware of the fact that Garland would probably be searching for them, knowing that they had done something not of his bidding. The young man had requested that Sephira search the airship with her mind and she had come with the results that their old keeper was on the other side of the ship, but moving towards them fairly quickly. So they sped up.
Rounding the last corner to the corridor that contained their rooms, they quickened their pace even more. As they reached the door, Kuja placed his hand on the knob and began to turn, just as Sephira gasped and hid behind Kuja. Garland had just rounded the corner and was coming towards them. Seeing them, the old man began to run. Kuja struggled with the handle for a moment, his sweaty hands slipping off the knob, but succeeded in turning it and they tumbled into Kuja's room, Kuja slamming the door behind him, leaning on it to hold it closed as they heard Garland pounding on the other side.
"Let me in this instant! Where have you been?" he shouted. Kuja winced as Sephira backed away from the door and into the adjacent wall. The young man shook his head, as though to clear it, before answering.
"We have been nowhere, Garland. All we have been doing was wandering through the craft." Kuja started as the pounding began anew, coming more violently from the other side.
"I don't believe you one bit! Come out here now!"
"We would rather stay in here, Master," Sephira replied, coming forward to lean on the door with Kuja, who moved slightly to the side to give her some room. They heard Garland sigh in frustration, snarl, then his footsteps leaving the corridor.
The two Genomes remained silent for a moment, not even daring to breath. Then, Sephira exhaled and looked up at Kuja.
"Is he... gone?"
Kuja turned slowly and quietly unlocked and opened the door an inch. Peering out, he checked the corridor. Seeing no one, he shut the door again and locked it once more.
"I see no soul." Sighing, he left the door and sat on the bed, placing his chin in his hands. "He gave up too easily. Why?"
"I have no clue," Sephira snapped, edgy from their encounter. Kuja's eyes flicked up to her, searching her. She said nothing and sat down in the armchair. She bit her lip in agitation and crossed her arms and legs, staring at nothing in anger.
"What is it?" Kuja asked softly. She shot a look at him and returned to staring at nothing. Shaking her head to try and flick some hair from her face, she reached up and pulled her locks out of her eyes. Biting her index finger in anixiety, she sighed.
"Are we never going to break free. Shall he rule us forever, Kuja." She said this as a statement, not a question. Her gaze settled on him and he shifted, feeling almost uncomfortable. He never liked it when people thought themselves more intelligent than he. Of course, he made an exception to his companion, but it still got under his skin.
"Of course," he muttered, inclining his head to look at the ground. A shiver involuntarily passed through him and he fiddled with his sleeves, wanting to do something with his hands, anything, to just take his mind slightly off of the fact that her gaze was still fixed on him.
"Really, Kuja. Do not lie to yourself."
"I am not lying," he mumbled, becoming even more uncomfortable. Tapping his fingers on his legs, he looked up at her for a moment. She was still staring at him.
"Kuja, you are not telling the truth, so therefore, you are lying. You know that as well as I do and—"
"Why should you know anything about me?" he shouted, breaking his discomfort and jumping to his feet. He clenched his fists and glared at her. "Why should you know anything about me?" he repeated, angrily, but a little quieter. Normally, Sephira would have given into his anger and tried to calm him down. Instead, she got to her feet and glared up at him, placing her hands on her hips.
"I know things about you, Kuja, because I do! Do you ask why the sun rises and sets? No. Why should you ask why I know you, when we have been together for so long?" she cried, placing her hands on his chest and bracing herself as she leaned over, resting her head on him. "I know you because I know you." Shoving him, he stumbled backwards against a wall. Jerking his head up, he stared at her in disbelief for a moment, before giving into his boiling anger.
"Why the hell did you do that?" he shouted, starting forward. She smirked.
"See? I know you. You let your guard down because you thought I had given up, or that I was about to apologize." Smiling smugly, she sat back down in the armchair, crossing her arms. "And you will not touch me now, because you are afraid of hurting me. I am the only thing you have, so you do not want to stop me." Closing her eyes, she waited for him to reply. Instead, he grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her to her feet as she gasped, then he turned and shoved her. She tripped and fell on the bed, rolling over until she was facing the ceiling. Breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down, she turned her head slightly towards Kuja, her eyes narrowing.
"Damn you." She lay there, catching her breath. He strode over and gazed down at her, an appraising look on his face. He arched an eyebrow and gave a small laugh.
"You look so vulnerable, did you know?" Leaning over, he caught her by the wrists and pinned them above her head, trapping her on the bed. Gazing down at her, he smiled and brought his head forward. Her breath quickened even more, her eyes widened slightly, a tense and exciting feeling rising from the bottom of her stomach up to her heart, which pounded hard, almost painfully so, in her breast, which still heaved up and down. Bringing his nose to hers, he smirked and straightened up, letting her go.
"I have the power over you, angel. Do not forget it."
She sat up, her chest and shoulders heaving as she gasped in breath, her face slightly red. He turned back to her and chucked her under the chin. She snarled and narrowed her eyes. "I shall not forget it, but I shall fight it, until one day, I am equal you, or better."
He laughed quietly. "I am sure you will, angel. I am sure you will." He strode to the door. Turning back to her, he held out his arm. "I am going for a small stroll. Care to join me?"
Sephira smiled angrily and stood, passing him and opening the door, refusing his arm, but still consenting to the walk. Kuja laughed under his breath, his eyes full of merriment.
"You do not know how much that pleases me."
Whirling to face him, she smirked. "I think I do. I know you."
Kuja chuckled and caught up with her. They made their way back through the hallways of the Invincible, enjoying their time. They had nothing to hide from Garland at the moment, so they considered themselves safe.
Making their way to the cockpit, they ignored the lifeless Genome pilot and strolled to the large window. Kuja sighed and leaned against the glass, placing his nose to it, as though he were a willful child, watching something in a store window.
"Clouds. They drift along with no cares in the world. How I wish to be a cloud, to be free of worry, the only thing on my mind the sun, the sky, the open air, the life, the joy I bring when I water the earth and the plants and the shade I give the beings on the surface, shielding them from the sun. Ah, to be a cloud is to be free."
Sephira giggled a little and watched the clouds with him for a while. They stared out at the white, fluffy pillow-like objects, not speaking to one another, but communicating silently, not with words, or mind. Just through their silence, they could understand each other and how the other felt. It was almost a trance they worked themselves into, not words, just mindless, joyful staring.
Kuja's long, desperate, almost longing, sigh, brought them both back to reality. Sephira blinked and slowly shook her head, clearing her mind. Kneeling, she leaned against the glass, staring longingly out. The airship had passed through the clouds and they could see a small bit of grass. The plains stretched out underneath them, rolling greenery as far as the eye could see. She placed a hand on the glass, sighing.
Kuja, seeing her distress, kneeled beside her and wrapped her in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and nuzzling her nose in the fabric, which was cold with the radiating chill of the metal around them. She could feel the familiar twitch at the corner of her mouth and the pricking in the corners of her eyes. Struggling the staunch her sorrow, she gave a dry sob. Kuja's hand rested on the back of her head, twining and stroking her hair.
"I am okay, Kuja."
"I know. You are strong."
"I am not. But I am enough for this." She wrapped one arm around his neck, holding him to her, for a feeling of protection and comfort. That was what he was to her. Comfort, protection, joy, even a little love.
They leaned over to rest against the glass, Sephira resting her head on his shoulder. He drew his knees to him, and she to her, and they nestled there together, drawing warmth and strength from each other. They didn't move for hours. At one point, Sephira, through half-closed eyes, saw Garland step into the cockpit, check on the piloting Genome and leave. He didn't even seem to notice the young pair. So she closed her eyes again and slept, not aware that Kuja watched everything with awareness, even though his eyes were partially closed. He didn't want to be caught unguarded.
"There is no rest for the weary," he murmured to himself, keeping his voice low enough to not awake his companion, who slept peacefully. "None at all."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Sir! Unidentified airship off to the port side!"
"What!? Call them!"
--------------
Viteros looked at Zidane and said, "They're trying to talk to us. See that flashing light? It's in a code that we're supposed to understand if we're air sailors."
"Are we air sailors?" Zidane really doubted it.
Viteros smiled thinly and pulled out a double-bladed staff from the wall, and handed it to Zidane. "No. I don't think so."
Zidane gripped the handle tightly and said, "So. What are we doing?"
"Breaking and entering. Ready? Your friends are there. We're storming the ship, we strike hard and fast, grab your buds, and we leave like fishes with a rock thrown in the water."
Zidane just looked at him blankly. "Huh?"
Viteros just shook his head. "Let's just rock."
----------------
A few minutes later, Viteros stood in the cockpit, his hand over three red buttons. He called back to Zidane, "You ready?"
Standing at the edge of the ship, Zidane shouted, "Yeah! Let's go!"
Viteros quickly slammed the red buttons and then pushed a larger blue one that opened the door to the ship. The relatively massive cargo door opened, whipping Zidane with wind. The young thief watched as three grappling hooks shot out and embedded themselves into the side of the much larger airship next to them. Viteros ran into the cargo hold and yelled over the loud wind, "Zidane! I've set the ship on autopilot! We're boarding! You ready!"
In answer, Zidane ran to the edge of the cargo hold, but just before he fell out he leapt and landed on the taut wire and slid down to the opposing airship, blade staff in hand, already whirling to defeat two soldiers who urgently ran up and were promptly thrown to the ground, knocked unconscious by sturdy hits by the flats of the blades.
Viteros followed close by, sliding on another wire. He jumped off and the metal-clad right hand appeared again, and with the customary loud noise a soldier fell. Black cloak swirling, Viteros turned to Zidane and said, "Let's go! I've got ranged attack; I'll be right behind you!"
Zidane nodded, and ran quickly across the balcony to a door. Just before they ran through, a small white, winged creature jumped off the roof and onto the scene right in front of them. Zidane looked at it and said, "Hey! It's a moogle!" he looked at Viteros and said, "Have you ever wondered why they keep appearing in the weirdest places?"
Viteros looked at the moogle and, with his chin in his hand, he said, "You know, I did! I never really understood it either…"
Zidane looked at the moogle. "Hmmm…."
Viteros looked at the moogle. "Hmmm…."
Zidane stroked a nonexistent mustache. "Hmmm…"
Viteros stroked a nonexistent goatee. "Hmmm…"
Then Zidane said, "This is stupid. Let's keep going, we don't have any time to waste!"
"Wait," said his companion, still looking at the moogle, "I need to save."
"What?"
"Wait, my memory card is full…we will continue!"
Zidane shook his head as they kept going. "You're so weird…"
-----------------
Inside, the two separated. They reached a "T" hall and so each had to go down one hall, Viteros left and Zidane right. Zidane hurried down only to find a guard rushing at him with a spear. The two passed…and the guard found himself raging as Zidane held up the potion that he had just pickpocketed. The thief drank it down in one gulp, wiped his face, and threw the empty bottle at the guard. The man clutched his face as blood came from his nose, but then curled up and fell as a swift groin kick connected.
------------------
Viteros preferred a more stealthy method. Keeping to the shadows and taking advantage of the chaos, he quietly snuck up behind unfortunate men and hit them hard over the head, putting a hand over their mouths to keep them silent. Once in a while an unfortunate soldier felt cold steel slide into his back, and a strong hand clamp over his mouth.
-------------------
Zidane burst into the engine room, blades flashing. He looked around and then ran towards who appeared to be the only engineer in there. He ran up and held a blade at the man's throat and said, "Move and you die!" The engineer stiffened and said, "Don't hurt me. I'll cooperate."
Zidane slowly steered the man towards the engine, a huge rotor that created electrical energy for the usage of the airship. He said menacingly, "Turn it off. Now."
The man hurried to comply, while Zidane stood guard, just in case anyone tried to come in and cause trouble. After the rotors were turned off guards would stream in here, letting the ones who guarded the prison have much less backup against the mysterious little person who would initiate their demise. After knocking the engineer out, Zidane hurriedly ran towards the prison complex, the lights around him flickering and dying.
---------------
Viteros laughed as the lights went out. Yes, the kid was smart. He knew that they had already been 'caught' and so did not try for stealth at all. How might he do in other battles?
Not the time to wonder. Time to fight. Viteros flew around a corner and ran into a contingent of three soldiers, causing the fighter not to stop but to increase speed, and leap onto one of them. Viteros held his gun at the man's head and said, "Nobody move!" The other soldiers merely glared and rushed, swords drawn.
This had caught him by complete surprise, and he ran down the hall, firing randomly and frantically. "Ah, it's not fair! You guys were mine!"
----------------
Zidane jumped into the room from the air vents, shouting, swinging the blade staff, smashing into two guards, spinning and hitting a third. "Die!"
Zidane looked around and knew he had reached his destination, the prison complex. With each injury he sustained, he felt the power in him growing, and knew that the mysterious power that Viteros spoke about…'Limit Break'…was going to be critical in his war. He would get little scratches, and he would feel the power radiating from the pain. A blood sacrifice? He would have to see if Viteros had any more books about Limit Break when they got back…
"Hey, you're not supposed to-aagh!"
"Stop, you!"
"Wait, what is he…"
The blood pounded in Zidane's ears, his heartbeat raced, and the adrenaline ripped through his body, giving him strength, speed. Power, power…being injured gave him power. Being all right gave him power. He was unstoppable. A juggernaut.
Zidane finally got to a floor that said "Prison Level" on the door, and he smashed it open without thinking how incredible it was that he could reduce a five-inch wooden door into splinters with but a kick. He hurried in, looking…looking…
--------------
A soldier on either side…a split kick should do nicely.
Viteros jumped into the air, cleaving it with his legs as they went to each side, knocking down a guard on each side with a hit to the face. As he landed, he said to himself, "I wonder how many ninja movies have used that one."
Viteros himself was hunting for the two contacts, Kuja and Sephira, but they were nowhere to be seen. Probably they were in a maximum security. No way could they really ever be set loose, especially if what he had heard was true…that Kuja and Zidane were similar, and Sephira, the only remnant of the dark Project: Angel.
Finally getting into a room full of books, Viteros allowed himself a smile. There were books everywhere; this was probably Garland's private library. Perfect for some 'study'.
Viteros pulled a book off of the shelf that said "Shadow Bible".
Intrigued, he opened it, and saw on the first page a scrawled note that he assumed was by Terisas, from the fancy, looped, but cruel writing-
My friend Garland, if I may humbly present this gift to you. You and I are not religious, my friend, but I have found this book incredibly interesting, and actually somewhat useful in my activities. You won't believe it until you read it, trust me!
Clipped into the first page was a picture. It showed two young men Viteros could only assume were Terisas and Garland. Terisas, with his sharp features and black, hole-like eyes, and Garland, who was already beginning to have whitening hair, even though he was probably in his late twenties in the picture. He wore a short, dark beard, but his eyes were the same. Always the same.
Viteros flipped the book open to a random page and was surprised to see what he had turned to.
22. "Henceforth, it came to pass the darkness overtook the land, not as a warrior does, but as a shadow, insinuating itself slowly and quietly among the hearts of men. Behold, they were easily swayed to the force of evil, of greed, of hate, of madness. The devil carefully ensareth them in his chains, and then he leadeth them carefully down to hell."
23. "For behold, darkness always hath lived in the hearts of men. For all eternity has man lusted after power, money, and even fame. Hence, it was but a simple matter for the darkness of eternity to consume their hearts. For the hearts of men are easily forsaken for earthly pleasures."
24. "And so it came to pass that man believed he was as powerful as the Iifa Tree, yea, even as God, repeating the mistake that so many hath made before. The false belief of man's own divinity. For behold, man hath nothing but potential, yea, nothing more than such, with no tools but the ability to manipulate them, spare of instinct but plentiful of intelligence. Man is potential, nothing but potential, and so for eternity it shall be hence."
25. "But then, as such, the spirit of the tempter may enter their hearts and twist their souls into vile darkness. And so he wrappeth his chains of wrath 'round their hearts and souls, and quench their thirst for the things of the world, and bringeth them down into destruction of the unearthly. So worketh the tempter."
26. "Behold, but always shall there be opposition to the darkness forever. Hence, warriors must rise from each generation, each of incredible past, and conquer the evil for a while, before it shall rise again. For behold, darkness shall always rise again. Dying lasts for but a moment, but death is eternal. Henceforth, so is hell. Always will humanity fight with the darkness and also succumb. Darkness never dies. It only but sleeps."
Master Kalisanej the Unholy Prophet, Chapter 19, Verses 22-26
Viteros found himself moved by the passage…moved…uneasy. He glared down at the page and said to himself, "I need to get me one of these. It seems to be very…useful…"
Being so immersed in the book, he didn't feel the air swish with the passage of the dart, didn't feel the intruder Genome walk in the room, and, being so full of the nerve poison, didn't feel the pain in his knees and face as he fell to the floor.
----------------
"Viiiiviiiii! Steeeeiiiiiner! Freeeya! Eeeeeiko! Quiiiiiinaaaa! *breath* Daaaaaaaggeeeeeer!"
Zidane hurriedly ran down the prison halls, looking through bars into cells, wondering where they were…where could they be…dead? No…not dead…best not to think like that…
Finally, when Zidane was passing a cell, he heard two voices somewhat arguing in a cell.
"Ach, I said to move out af ze vey, but nooo, you are just tzoooo schmart fur me! Zo you zay, 'Letz just keep goin'! They're bound to move away fur us!"
"That's not true! I said let's dodge, but no, you…you…"
"Ah, vait! Zee here, here iz a kit, one who can help uz out ov zis dire predicament! Vat's your name, kit?"
Zidane went to the bars and looked at the two strange figures in front of him. One was a huge, burly man, wearing mostly leather, and ripped leather at that. A thin cloth shirt, baggy leather pants, leather vest, torn leather gloves…his black hair was wild and unkempt, his jagged scar going from his ear to his cleft chin made him look like a beast, but his soft brown eyes radiated a kindness, if not much intelligence.
The other one was a chubby little man, with fat hands and a bald head, with the exception of little bits of hair on the side, and a long, droopy gray moustache. He had red-tinted blue eyes, and was dressed in the long, flowing silky robes of a travel-teller, one of the traveling bards who told stories for money and shelter. The other one was probably his bodyguard. Their voices told told much, the strong one was not the brightest but earnest, and the little one had an oily, calculating, but not wholly evil voice.
"I'm…Zidane," he said.
"Aah, Zidane! A very proper name, iz it not, Garret?"
"Whatever. Are you changing the subject, Odine?"
"Me? No! Vat vould make you sink such a thing! You baboon!"
Odine turned back to Zidane and said in his oily voice, "My young friend, as you can see, ve are in a very…unfortunate zituation. You zee, ve vere captured by zis ship when my incompetent donkey ov an azziztant dezided zat zey vouldn't hit us ven ve parked in zeir vay!"
"Sorry, Odine, but I just thought…"
"Thought!? Vat vere you sinking!? I do all of ze sinking around here, bozo!"
Garret looked at Zidane and shrugged. "He's actually usually pretty nice. He's just in a bad mood."
"Zat's right, boy," said Odine, turning back again, "Zidane, was it? Yes, a good name, for a good-looking young boy. Vell…ve'd like to get out of here, you zee, could you help us, ve'd be eternally grateful, right Garret?"
"Yeah," said the strong man, nodding, "We'd pay you very well!"
"Ach! You mean I vould pay heem. Ay voy! Vell, boy, vould you do it? Ve had much gil before they took it from me, but I don't carry all ov my gil with me! I'd go to my bank in Burmecia and get much, zo, zo much for you!"
"I'll help," said Zidane with a slight smile at the two's antics, "you never need a reason to help people. Not even money."
"Yess! Zank you, sank you! You are truly a noble young man. Zat is great. Wait a minute…did you hear that sound? Garret?"
"I'd be quiet, Odine."
The three were silent, and they heard the sound-the unmistakable zing of a sword, and the fleshy impact of a blade to muscle. "Who would be…"
Zidane looked around nervously, glancing at all the doors. Suddenly, he saw a door slowly creak open, and a body fell in. He saw a man walk past. His articulated features made him look like a beautifully carved sculpture; so much was his physical perfection. On his back were six dark wings, folded to make room for him in the small hall. He held in each hand a long katana, and one was bloodied. The man looked at Zidane with fierce magenta eyes, and Zidane felt a chill run up and down his spine.
What…what the…what the hell was that?
Zidane shook his head. This wasn't the time to worry, but the time for action! He turned back to the two and said, "I need to leave right now. I'll be right back, hold on, guys."
"Boy, Boy, it iss all richt, az long az you free uz laterrrr. Sank you in advnaz, boy, and hopefully zee you later…in good hehls!"
Zidane left at a run, hurrying, hurrying…Viteros…where was he!?