Setting: One week before the events of FFIX.
Hidden
It was a night like any other balmy August night. So late was the hour that the servants and maidservants, who diligently looked after Alexandria Castle and its inhabitants, had all gone to bed. The night sentries kept watch and the slumbering nobles dreamed, but there was one person in the castle who did neither. High up in the castle was a large bedroom with windows hung with brocaded silk curtains that stirred gently in the breeze. In that room burned a single candle, casting the kind of light that often accompanies things done in secret yet not bright enough to creep under the door into the hallway. And in that room was a mirror, and before that mirror stood a girl dressed as a country boy.
Garnet til Alexandros XVII examined her reflection and readjusted her coarse brown cap. It was several sizes too large—it had an annoying tendency of slipping over her eyes—but it suited her just fine. She had twisted her long mane of silky black hair up and around the top of her head, keeping it in place with copious slender hairpins, and she used the cap to hide it from view. Styling and managing her hair had never been easy, a source of many headaches and woes, but for once in her life, she was glad that it was so baby fine. If it had been any thicker, it would have been far too bulky to conceal.
As was her habit (and that of many other women's), she leaned closer to the mirror to scrutinize her face for any spots or blemishes. To her dismay, she saw circles under her eyes that were so dark it looked as if she had rubbed soot on her face. They were the result of too many nights spent tossing and turning; sleep had once been a merciful old friend, but for some time now it had abandoned her when she needed it most.
Noticing that several wisps of hair had escaped from under the cap, Garnet pushed them back up though she knew that they would inevitably come loose again. Some things just couldn't be helped. Like the changes in her life, for example. Her father's death, her mother's secrecy, and the strange man that haunted the castle halls. When her father passed away over a year ago, she had been too consumed with grief to notice the whispers among the servants and the soldiers. Now that her sorrow had abated (though it would never disappear), she heard them more clearly than she would have liked, and the message was ominous. Her mother was planning something, but nobody seemed to know what it was.
And then the man with flowing silver hair had arrived. He swept through the halls as if he owned the castle, and he always wore a long indigo overcoat despite the sweltering summer heat. And strangely enough, Garnet had not been able to feel warm ever since his arrival. She would wrap herself in blankets, rub her arms vigorously, sit in the sun until its heat made her head hurt; but none of it could drive away the cold that had settled in her bones. Maybe the man felt the same way. Perhaps that was why he never took off his coat.
Garnet straightened and smoothed her maroon-and-yellow tunic with a sigh. Her life was coming apart at the seams, and there was no one but her to keep it from falling completely apart. Father was gone; she could no longer depend on him like she was so used to doing. And Mother—well, Mother was part of the problem. Her mother, Queen Brahne, spent her days behind the closed doors of the royal conference room and never gave her daughter a straight answer or even the time of day anymore. Garnet missed her lessons and wandered about unescorted, but Brahne did not seem to notice or care. Her only consolation was that her mother had apparently remembered her sixteenth birthday, as she had recruited Tantalus, a premiere acting troupe from Lindblum, to perform on her favorite play on her birthday.
Even so, Garnet's fears were not allayed. Someone needed to know what was happening, and that someone was her Uncle Cid. The problem was, he lived in Lindblum, on the other end of the continent.
So there was only one thing left to do: run away to Lindblum. And the perfect opportunity was about to present itself in a week's time.
I must go before the night grows too late. She threw around her shoulders a hooded white cloak with rose-colored markings along the edges—the kind that white mages wore—and fastened the simple gold clasp at her neck. It was not uncommon for white mages to frequent the castle, so her presence was not likely to be questioned even this late at night. And even if someone stopped her, they would only see a young boy, a white mage apprentice.
Garnet blew out the candle on her writing stand and tiptoed to the large double doors of her room and pressed her ear to the wood. The soft snoring she heard from the other side told her that the Pluto Knight guarding her chambers was fast asleep. The Pluto Knights never seemed to do much other than eat and sleep, but they were good men nonetheless. She carefully pushed open the door and stepped outside, closing it quietly behind her. It was Laudo, she saw, who had been assigned to her that night. She was fond of him—he wrote beautiful poetry and often brought her books and play scripts when she wearied of her princessly duties—and it weighed heavily on her conscience to be sneaking about. But she had no choice.
Two months ago, she would have found the silence that filled the normally bustling castle unsettling. Now she was more used to it, though with the dimmed lights, deserted hallways, and the occasional soldier at rigid attention, Alexandria castle by night was solemn and foreboding. Her soft footfalls were the only sound that could be heard, and instead of making her afraid of discovery, it made her feel that she had the castle all to herself, and no one, not even men with silver hair and long coats, could take it away from her. The night was hers and Alexandria was hers.
When she reached the ground floor, she passed the eerily quiet kitchens with their ever-burning stoves, their fires now reduced to glowing embers emitting a startling pop every now and then. She pushed open the heavy oak side door that led to the courtyard and paused to gather her thoughts. Tonight's watch should be Blutzen and Kohel. It should not be too difficult to get past them.
Her aim was to enter the east watch tower without making a fuss. She tried to come whenever the Pluto Knights were assigned to guard the towers because they would be less inclined to be suspicious of strangers or force her to remove her hood, at which time not even the cleverest disguise could prevent them from recognizing their princess's face. Fortunately for Garnet, her dear Pluto Knights were marvelously trusting men and her fears were never realized. And if one of the Alexandrian soldiers was on duty, she would simply pass her by and go back to her room. A thwarted opportunity, perhaps, but she would remind herself that it was for the best.
It was Kohel who was guarding the entrance of the east tower that night, and he only nodded as Garnet went by. By now, all the Knights of Pluto were used to her habit, strange though it might be, of frequenting the tower at night. Of course, what they saw was only a young man apprenticed to one of the castle's white mages who often had trouble sleeping. If only they knew the truth. Garnet shook her head to drive that thought away. I cannot think about getting caught. They would lock me in my room and never let me go anywhere by myself. I need to focus on what I have come here for.
The east watch tower represented phase two of her plan. The first phase was not very difficult—it involved only a change of clothing and exiting the castle—so there was no need to practice it. However, the second and third parts were more much more challenging and physically demanding. Tonight, she would improve her endurance in order to run up the stairs to the top of the tower without wearing herself out. The third and most difficult part of her plan involved swinging from the towertop by a string of flags onto the Tantalus airship; she practiced this during the day—disguised, of course—by swinging to and from deserted piers in the boatyard by a rope tied to the rafters.
She had almost reached her goal; she could now climb the stairs at a reasonably fast pace without becoming winded until the very end. A few more practice runs was all she needed, and the remaining week before Tantalus's performance provided her with more than enough time.
The corridor inside the tower was long and dark, sparsely lit by the few torches nestled in the walls. Garnet had never been one to be afraid of the dark and she had been inside the tower many times before, but for some reason on this particular night, the shifting shadows resembled flickering human forms and sent chills down her spine. It was as though her disloyalty to her mother and queen had awakened the ghosts of her ancestors, and they were angered. She firmly told herself to stop imagining things and began to walk down the corridor.
Imagination or no, she could not help feeling an icy stab of guilt. She forced herself to remember how distant her mother had become. Mother...I am not betraying you. You have changed, and I do not know why. Something is not right.
Or was she imagining things again, overreacting? Maybe her mother was in the middle of crucially important negotiations and was acting strangely because she was under pressure. But there is something different in your eyes, now. And now you are cold towards me when you have always been loving and kind.
But her mother had remembered how much she loved plays, and had arranged a performance especially for her birthday. Garnet bit her lip and frowned. She probably was overreacting; her father always teased her about having an overactive imagination. However, despite her attempts to rationalize Queen Brahne's behavior, Garnet still could not drive away the vague uneasiness lurking at the edges of her mind.
She stopped at the foot of the stairs that spiraled up the tower. Her focus was gone and she felt scattered; now it was impossible for her to set foot on the first stair. She could not betray her mother, but she could not let affairs remain as they were. What was she supposed to do now? I have to do something. Maybe I am nervous because the day of my escape—no, departure—is only a week away. She stared up at the infinitely long flight of stairs. Am I really going to go through with this?
"Well, well, what have we here?" came an unfamiliar voice.
Garnet's breath froze in her chest, and her blood pounded in her ears. Nobody in their right mind would be in the watch tower at this hour. Had she been discovered? Was it over before it had even begun?
Trying to stay calm, she turned to face the speaker. It was a tall man in a dark grey cloak with a shadowy hood that concealed all but the lower third of his face from view. It was as if he, like Garnet, were trying to disguise his identity.
"I am taking a walk, sir," she said, deepening her voice to make it unrecognizable. "I find it difficult to sleep."
"Of course. There are many reasons why one would have difficulty sleeping." His voice was smooth like satin, but it also had an unpleasant quality that made Garnet think of snakes slithering over bare skin.
"Yes," she replied uncertainly. "Many things." What was she saying? Who was this man, and what was he doing here?
"When nightmares stalk the waking world, there is no solace in dreams," he murmured, as though talking to himself. "There is no escape."
Though Garnet did not understand his cryptic words, she found them unsettling. But the more he spoke, the more certain she was that she had never met this man before. And if they had never met, he would never recognize her even if she removed her cloak. Regaining some of her courage, she decided it was time to for her to go. "I must bid you good night, sir. There is much work to do in the morning," she muttered, hurrying past him.
"A pity that the Queen does not think so." Garnet stopped dead in her tracks. My mother? What does he know? Suddenly she turned cold and her blood was like ice, even though the air around her was smotheringly humid.
"Yes, my dear," the man continued in that strangely mesmerizing voice that made her skin crawl. "There is very little left for you to do. We can only wait, now."
He moved in her direction and she involuntary stepped backwards. Her hand instinctively flew to her neck, where her pendant usually hung. She had taken it off earlier, because there was no use in trying to pass herself off as an apprentice boy if she was wearing the royal pendant of Alexandria. Now she wished that she had it with her—the feeling of its weight against her chest was oddly comforting—and she felt naked without it.
"Come, now. You aren't afraid, are you, Garnet?" His elegant lips twisted into a cold smile and amusement colored his voice.
Garnet flinched as he spoke her name, feeling utterly exposed despite being underneath multiple layers of clothing. Her breathing came in ragged gasps as she recalled the stories she had heard of unfortunate women who found themselves trapped with unfamiliar men in the wrong places at the wrong times.
The man extended a pale, slender hand as if beckoning her. "Come, my lovely princess. It will be more pleasant for both of us if you are willing. Let me show you the dream before the nightmare."
He crooked his forefinger, and her cloak unclasped and fell to the floor. Garnet tried to turn and run, but her feet would not obey her and she stumbled onto the hard granite tiles instead. Her worker's cap came off and her hair, despite the many pins holding it in place, came loose and tumbled around her shoulders. She wanted to scream, but the sound stuck in her throat.
A tense moment passed as they stared at each other. The cloaked man lowered his hand and seemed—was it her imagination?—disappointed. "No matter, there will always be other times," he muttered. Then, wearing a mocking smile, he cried, "Show me how fast you can fly, my sweet canary! Fly, my canary, fly!"
He did not need to say it more than once. Garnet snatched up her cloak and fled down the hall as fast as her legs could take her. She did not notice the lock of silver hair that trailed across the man's chin or the self-assured smile that she often saw on the face of the man wearing the long indigo coat. Her mind was occupied with one thought only: to reach the safety of her room inside the castle proper. The princess of Alexandria ran and ran and did not look back.
Kuja watched her retreat and did not move to stop her. "And so, the game begins. All the world is my stage and its people are my pawns. It is a pity to let her go, but Brahne is becoming insolent. It will be highly entertaining to throw a wrench into the gears. The canary may fly far and wide, but in the end, she will be mine." He melted back into the shadows, and it was as if he had never been there at all.
The End
