A/N: Ah, chapter ten. A milestone. I want to thank all of my reviewers
for helping me reach this achievement of ten very looooooooooong chapters.
You all rock! Anyhow, I must attach a warning to this chapter. It is
EXTREMELY confusing. Believe me. I was confused, and I wrote it ^_^ Just
bear with me. It will all make sense eventually. So read on, and be
warned, lol.
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy. Is it really that hard to see? If I did then happy I would be. And I would fill with joy and glee. Yadda yadda yadda. I could go on forever. The rhyming dictionary has over three pages of words rhyming with "be", so BE glad I stopped there ;-)
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"In this world, there are many like me who have killed their emotions. Don't forget that."
Shadow, Final Fantasy VI
Kuja froze immediately, fingers clenching at his sides. His initial reaction was to retaliate. His first instinct: magic. As he thought desperately for a spell, a memory flooded back to him that caused the sorcerer to halt in his tracks.
/Flash/
And it was a good thing he'd put up that barrier at the last minute or he would have been toast. The stupid shield hadn't been as affective as he'd hoped . . .
/Flash/
/That's right . . ./ Kuja thought. /My magic doesn't seem to be working as well as it once did. Scratch THAT thought . . ./
The sword had left his neck. The silver-haired genome knew his enemy was raising it; poised to attack. She knew he was defenseless. She sensed his weakness. It was all over for the Angel of Death . . .
/Wait a second. I'm the first Angel of Death! I could kick her ass right now if I wanted to!/
There was a swish and swoop as the sword cut through the air, screaming as it sliced through existence itself. Kuja, with lightning fast reflexes, tumbled to the side and swung his leg through the air, knocking Beatrix's feet out from under her. The general fell down hard, screaming "Guards!" as she did so.
Immediately, Kuja was buried under a pile of Alexandrian soldiers, all heavily armed and preparing magic attacks of their own. The genome concentrated all his energy on a Thundaga, feeling the magic draining from his body as he did so. With an explosion of electricity, the female soldiers were thrown off of him, collapsing to the ground as small crackles of lightning fizzed around their bodies. One or two of the women was permanently out of the fight.
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"Sir?" Drakja glanced nervously at his master, who was seated upon a black throne, shrouded in darkening shadows.
"What?!" the man snapped, not even glancing at his lackey.
"Is something the matter?"
There was a moment of silence before The Master tightened his fingers into a fist and let out a shuddering sigh.
"He's fighting me . . ."
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Kuja tried to raise himself shakily onto hit feet. The once proud sorcerer felt as if he'd just run a mile. With a cough he sank back to the ground, careful not to let his guard down too much. The soldiers were quickly getting over their electrocution and many were already retrieving their weapons and standing back up again, facing their opponent. Kuja shut his eyes wearily.
/Please . . . Just leave me alone . . ./
The soldiers charged, circling in around the fallen man. Kuja glared up at them intensely; severely pissed off. With a cry of anger, the genome leapt up into the air, managing to back-flip straight over those behind him and successfully knocking over the ones in front. He landed nearby, already in a fighting pose. If magic was not an option, then he would just have to resort to physical violence.
Nearby, Beatrix watched with curiosity as her female army flung themselves at the man, desperately trying to drag him down. His movements were strange . . . She couldn't tell if he was just tired . . . or if he didn't want to hurt her soldiers and the spectators standing around the square, watching in horror . . . or possibly a combination of both . . . But Beatrix did know one thing:
Kuja may have been determined, but he couldn't fight forever . . . And she had plenty more soldiers where THAT came from . . .
Kuja ducked as a sword whizzed overhead; punched hard as he dodged a right hook. The soldiers were falling quickly yet more and more came. There was no end to them! It was like they were regenerating themselves!
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Zidane ran as fast as he could towards the Alexandrian Square, Megan hot on his heels.
"What's - going - on?!" Megan shouted in between breaths, trying desperately to keep up with the agile genome. Zidane puffed as they turned a corner, his mind trying to concentrate on finding his brother.
"Your friend is in BIG trouble," he explained, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach as he thought about it.
"But why?!"
Zidane did not respond. He didn't have to. Megan gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth.
At the end of the road, poor Feather was pitted against what seemed to be half of the entire Alexandrian military force.
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"Can you bring him down?" Drakja whispered, gazing forward as if seeing whatever his master saw for himself.
"Can't you see I'm trying, you fool?!"
The green-eyed man tilted his head inquiringly, brown locks falling into his eyes. "So he is more powerful than you have told me . . ."
"Not as powerful as you think . . . You wait. I will win this,"
"Hmm . . ."
"He's determined. He will finish or die trying. If he keeps this up, it will be the latter,"
Drakja jerked with surprise as his master leapt to his feet, rage written all over his features. "No! That idiot will KILL himself!"
"So what?" Drakja snorted, hands on his hips. "Who cares about that old screw-up anyways?"
The Master rounded on his servant, a haze of wrath twisting around his very presence.
"Don't you understand?! I NEED him! If he dies, what have I got?! Nothing! No, I'll tell you what I'd have. A failed plan! And I will not accept failure!"
"So what do you intend to do about it?" Drakja couldn't help but smirk a little at seeing his own boss thrown up against such an impossible situation and actually seeming frightened about it. The Master took a deep breath and sank calmly back into his chair, fingers drumming the arm-rests as he did so.
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do . . . I'm going to do exactly what I'd been trying to do this whole time,"
"But it wasn't working . . ."
"I wasn't trying hard enough. There's always a way to do anything. You see, I am trying harder and even now it is beginning to work,"
"Actually, I can't see. But I'll take your word for it,"
"I've got him right in my clutches . . ." the Master chuckled, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "And . . .
NOW!"
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/Flash/
The body becomes a vessel . . . Which greets a new soul . . .
You're soul was given to you, therefore, it can be taken away . . .
/Flash/
Kuja collapsed. It seemed to take everybody by surprise. The Alexandrian soldiers backed away, still brandishing their swords in his direction just in case. Kuja had been caught by Beatrix. Whether that was a good thing or not, he wasn't sure. She threw him to his knees, slapping a pair of heavy steel handcuffs over his delicate wrists. Kuja just closed his eyes wearily, unable to fight back.
"You're under arrest . . ." the general hissed, tightening the shackles so that they dug painfully hard into Kuja's skin. The angry woman was about to put a sleep spell on her capture when he whimpered and leaned forward slightly, tugging at her heartstrings for a reason that she could not fathom.
/What's the point of putting him to sleep?/ she thought, frowning. /He seems dead on his feet already . . . How strange . . . What could have happened to cause this terrible condition?/
Kuja shuddered, his face pale. Beatrix's eyes flashed and she crouched down next to him, peering intently into his face.
His lips were coated with blood . . .
A thin line of red liquid dripped out of the corner of his mouth and rolled down his chin, falling with a small splash onto the unpaved road. Beatrix gently wiped some up with one finger, staring at the blood as if it were the wrong color. She rose slowly, glaring at the circle of soldiers around her as she did so.
"Who . . .? Did this . . .?" she whispered quietly, displaying the blood- stained finger before them. The soldiers shifted uncomfortably, trying to appear less suspicious. The general's eye narrowed dangerously.
"I want to know . . . who caused our prisoner to bleed . . ."
A hand clamped down on her shoulder. Beatrix whipped around only to find herself face to face with Zidane, who was leering furiously.
"Don't . . . touch him." Zidane commanded, lip twitching. Beatrix stepped back immediately, inclining her head.
"Zidane, I'm so sorry," she apologized, wiping the blood off on her wrist guard. "One of these fools got a little too excited apparently. It will not happen again,"
"No. It won't. Or I will file for police brutality,"
Beatrix paled, eye widening. Police brutality offered the capital punishment of death in the Alexandrian courts. She wondered briefly why Zidane was so upset. Did he realize who the knave was kneeling down at her feet?!
Kuja licked his stained lips angrily, rising carefully to his feet. What the hell had just happened? He looked up at Zidane. Then at Megan who was cowering behind him. A feeling of guilt sank into his heart and he looked away quickly, bowing his head in shame.
"Why are they doing this?!" Megan cried, peering over Zidane's shoulder. "He never did anything wrong!" Zidane brushed the brunette away, still glaring at Beatrix.
"Take off the handcuffs," he commanded, pointing a finger at Kuja's inert form. Beatrix blinked at him as if the young boy had lost his mind.
"Zidane, I don't think you realize who this is. I mean, I know it's been awhile and all, but - "
"Take them off."
Beatrix looked ready to argue but finally sighed and nodded her head to a nearby soldier. The nervous militant crept forward, bracing herself as if expecting Kuja to blow her up or something. Not that she didn't have good reason for thinking so.
Kuja didn't move. The soldier carefully undid the shackles and darted away. The silver-haired man just let his arms drop to his sides.
Beatrix's grip on her sword tightened apprehensively as she waited for the genome to strike. Zidane stepped forward, standing directly in front of the sorcerer. There was a moment of silence.
"Where have you been?" he asked finally, folding his arms over his chest. Kuja raised his eyes, frowning. He said nothing.
"I thought you were dead," Zidane continued, voice remaining stern. Megan's face clouded over with confusion. How did the future king of Alexandria know Feather?
"Why did you vanish like that? Why didn't you come back to Alexandria with me?"
All that could be heard was the sound of the wind. The Alexandrian soldiers and Beatrix all stood by, watching. Many of the citizens in the street (at least those with common sense) went walking briskly off, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire as it was apparent that two high- ranking people were very, very angry. Megan was at a loss for words. Finally, Kuja spoke, his voice filled with suppressed sadness.
"Because I did not want to . . ."
"Zidane!" all heads jerked in the direction of the voice. Queen Garnet was standing at the end of a nearby road, looking frightened over all of the commotion.
"Dagger . . ." Zidane turned towards his fiancé as she came running into the square. The youth glanced apologetically back at Kuja, biting his lip like he always did. The other genome simply looked away.
"Zidane! What's going on?! Why are all these - "
She stopped. Her eyes fell on Kuja. The queen stared at him for what seemed like forever, her eyes dancing with conflicting emotions, before letting out a strangled gasp and falling to her knees, covering her mouth with one hand in horror. Beatrix made a movement to go to the queen, however Zidane was already at her side, crouched down next to his girl, hands on her shoulders.
"Dagger, Dagger please. Don't say anything yet,"
Garnet let out a choked sob, face in her hands. "Oh god! It's a nightmare! What have I done to deserve this?!"
Megan's eyes went from Garnet to Kuja, Garnet to Kuja. Back and forth. She had absolutely no idea what was going on. Zidane sighed.
"Beatrix, can you take him up to the castle," he nodded his head towards Kuja. "I've got to talk to Dagger privately,"
Beatrix nodded understandingly. "Of course," she gave Kuja a swift glare. The genome simply stared at the road.
"Oh, and also," Zidane added, smoothing his thumb over Garnet's tear-soaked cheek. "I won't file for police brutality. If you look closely, his lip's not cut,"
The Alexandrian soldiers all glanced at each other in surprise, then turned back to their general as the one-eyed woman furrowed her brow and stared at Kuja's face. It was true . . . There was nothing there that could possibly explain any blood . . .
Zidane turned back to his fiancé and Beatrix took that as a sign that she could go. She grasped Kuja by the arm and began to drag him away, yanking him hard. The soldiers all scattered back into the city, heading towards their usual assignments. Megan took a step forward to follow her friend, however, Zidane caught her arm and shook his head, frowning.
"No, I think you'd better stay here with me," he muttered, his eyes watching the retreating backs of the others.
Garnet just continued to sob.
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"Did it work?" Drakja asked, still trying to imagine the scene in his mind. The Master nodded, smirking.
"You bet it did. Now really, did you ever once doubt me?"
"Of course not,"
"Good. I'm just worried that it was a bit too much. You understand how it works, yes?"
Drakja fingered the large red weapon tacked into his belt, lips twisting into a grin. "What do you think I use THIS for?"
"Have you ever actually handled it?" The Master queried, cocking his head to the side.
"Many times,"
"No, you idiot. I mean the OTHER setting,"
"Ah. Well, only on an occasional monster," Drakja admitted, his fingers twisting over the handle greedily. "But I would love to test it out on something . . . more sentient perhaps?"
"Hmm. I would like to know your reasoning,"
Drakja grinned, pulling the weapon out of its sheathe. "The definition of sentient is having sense or perception of consciousness. In other words, a dragon is only aware of life. It is living. It has always been living. They do not perceive death as inevitable. But a human, a sentient being, understands death. They know that their time will come eventually," the green-eyed man raised the weapon out in front of him, his eyes looking down its front as if aiming at a phantom target before him. "And there would be nothing more entertaining than watching a creature afflicted by this weapon and knowing that IT knows what is to happen next,"
"But if you have never used it," The Master interrupted, leaning forward with interest. "Then how do you know that a sentient being will perceive what is to happen next? That is no normal weapon. Death is not the result of its use,"
Drakja laughed, snapping the weapon and spinning it jauntily. "Believe me. They would know . . ."
"And they WILL know . . ."
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Later that night, Megan sat alone in her room back at the inn. Zidane had had a private talk with the queen and then told Megan to go back to wherever she had come from. Megan had done so, but only because she was too confused to do anything else. Amy hadn't interrogated her. She had sensed immediately that her friend wanted to be left alone.
Eventually, the door creaked open and Zidane stepped inside, looking grave.
"Megan?" he queried, shutting the door slowly. "That's your name, right?" Megan just nodded, wringing her fingers. Zidane continued, sitting down quietly on the bed next to her. "I'm really sorry about what happened,"
"Is he okay?" the young woman asked, glancing up at the soon-to-be king. Zidane nodded, mimicking her funeral-like attitude.
"Yeah. He was just kind of spooked I guess,"
"Well, I would be too if the great General Beatrix had snuck up behind me and sent half her squad out to kill me,"
The blonde genome half-smiled, folding his arms over his chest. "Do I detect a note of sarcasm in that last comment?"
"You are very perceptive . . ."
Zidane smirked, deciding he liked the strange girl that had come to town.
"So where is he?" Megan asked, eyes flat with exhaustion. The other sighed heavily, raising his eyes to the ceiling.
"He's still at the castle. I didn't want him outside,"
Megan made a face. "Who died and made YOU boss?"
Zidane's lip twitched and he nearly laughed. "Well, he's actually older than I am,"
"What's THAT supposed to mean?"
Zidane ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of a good way to break the news to her.
"Megan," he began, looking her squarely in the eyes.
"That man is my brother . . ."
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A/N: Damn, that was weird. I have to be honest, Drakja was kind of scaring me there. What with the whole, watching a sentient being die and stuff. Icky. But he IS a villain after all. And villains must be, well, villainous. And I just realized something totally weird. Kuja only has one line spoken out loud in this entire chapter! How crazy is that?! Anyhow, sorry for the mess. Review, review, review! I love them!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!! Black Mage Dad !!!!!!!!
P.S. Sorry about the delay, but I had a problem with the formatting. No matter what I did, the stupid thing always turned my paragraphs into one big clump! Finally, I just said "Screw this" and hit "clear all formatting." Then I had to redo every single line . . . *sigh* The things I put up with!
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy. Is it really that hard to see? If I did then happy I would be. And I would fill with joy and glee. Yadda yadda yadda. I could go on forever. The rhyming dictionary has over three pages of words rhyming with "be", so BE glad I stopped there ;-)
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"In this world, there are many like me who have killed their emotions. Don't forget that."
Shadow, Final Fantasy VI
Kuja froze immediately, fingers clenching at his sides. His initial reaction was to retaliate. His first instinct: magic. As he thought desperately for a spell, a memory flooded back to him that caused the sorcerer to halt in his tracks.
/Flash/
And it was a good thing he'd put up that barrier at the last minute or he would have been toast. The stupid shield hadn't been as affective as he'd hoped . . .
/Flash/
/That's right . . ./ Kuja thought. /My magic doesn't seem to be working as well as it once did. Scratch THAT thought . . ./
The sword had left his neck. The silver-haired genome knew his enemy was raising it; poised to attack. She knew he was defenseless. She sensed his weakness. It was all over for the Angel of Death . . .
/Wait a second. I'm the first Angel of Death! I could kick her ass right now if I wanted to!/
There was a swish and swoop as the sword cut through the air, screaming as it sliced through existence itself. Kuja, with lightning fast reflexes, tumbled to the side and swung his leg through the air, knocking Beatrix's feet out from under her. The general fell down hard, screaming "Guards!" as she did so.
Immediately, Kuja was buried under a pile of Alexandrian soldiers, all heavily armed and preparing magic attacks of their own. The genome concentrated all his energy on a Thundaga, feeling the magic draining from his body as he did so. With an explosion of electricity, the female soldiers were thrown off of him, collapsing to the ground as small crackles of lightning fizzed around their bodies. One or two of the women was permanently out of the fight.
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"Sir?" Drakja glanced nervously at his master, who was seated upon a black throne, shrouded in darkening shadows.
"What?!" the man snapped, not even glancing at his lackey.
"Is something the matter?"
There was a moment of silence before The Master tightened his fingers into a fist and let out a shuddering sigh.
"He's fighting me . . ."
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Kuja tried to raise himself shakily onto hit feet. The once proud sorcerer felt as if he'd just run a mile. With a cough he sank back to the ground, careful not to let his guard down too much. The soldiers were quickly getting over their electrocution and many were already retrieving their weapons and standing back up again, facing their opponent. Kuja shut his eyes wearily.
/Please . . . Just leave me alone . . ./
The soldiers charged, circling in around the fallen man. Kuja glared up at them intensely; severely pissed off. With a cry of anger, the genome leapt up into the air, managing to back-flip straight over those behind him and successfully knocking over the ones in front. He landed nearby, already in a fighting pose. If magic was not an option, then he would just have to resort to physical violence.
Nearby, Beatrix watched with curiosity as her female army flung themselves at the man, desperately trying to drag him down. His movements were strange . . . She couldn't tell if he was just tired . . . or if he didn't want to hurt her soldiers and the spectators standing around the square, watching in horror . . . or possibly a combination of both . . . But Beatrix did know one thing:
Kuja may have been determined, but he couldn't fight forever . . . And she had plenty more soldiers where THAT came from . . .
Kuja ducked as a sword whizzed overhead; punched hard as he dodged a right hook. The soldiers were falling quickly yet more and more came. There was no end to them! It was like they were regenerating themselves!
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Zidane ran as fast as he could towards the Alexandrian Square, Megan hot on his heels.
"What's - going - on?!" Megan shouted in between breaths, trying desperately to keep up with the agile genome. Zidane puffed as they turned a corner, his mind trying to concentrate on finding his brother.
"Your friend is in BIG trouble," he explained, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach as he thought about it.
"But why?!"
Zidane did not respond. He didn't have to. Megan gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth.
At the end of the road, poor Feather was pitted against what seemed to be half of the entire Alexandrian military force.
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"Can you bring him down?" Drakja whispered, gazing forward as if seeing whatever his master saw for himself.
"Can't you see I'm trying, you fool?!"
The green-eyed man tilted his head inquiringly, brown locks falling into his eyes. "So he is more powerful than you have told me . . ."
"Not as powerful as you think . . . You wait. I will win this,"
"Hmm . . ."
"He's determined. He will finish or die trying. If he keeps this up, it will be the latter,"
Drakja jerked with surprise as his master leapt to his feet, rage written all over his features. "No! That idiot will KILL himself!"
"So what?" Drakja snorted, hands on his hips. "Who cares about that old screw-up anyways?"
The Master rounded on his servant, a haze of wrath twisting around his very presence.
"Don't you understand?! I NEED him! If he dies, what have I got?! Nothing! No, I'll tell you what I'd have. A failed plan! And I will not accept failure!"
"So what do you intend to do about it?" Drakja couldn't help but smirk a little at seeing his own boss thrown up against such an impossible situation and actually seeming frightened about it. The Master took a deep breath and sank calmly back into his chair, fingers drumming the arm-rests as he did so.
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do . . . I'm going to do exactly what I'd been trying to do this whole time,"
"But it wasn't working . . ."
"I wasn't trying hard enough. There's always a way to do anything. You see, I am trying harder and even now it is beginning to work,"
"Actually, I can't see. But I'll take your word for it,"
"I've got him right in my clutches . . ." the Master chuckled, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. "And . . .
NOW!"
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/Flash/
The body becomes a vessel . . . Which greets a new soul . . .
You're soul was given to you, therefore, it can be taken away . . .
/Flash/
Kuja collapsed. It seemed to take everybody by surprise. The Alexandrian soldiers backed away, still brandishing their swords in his direction just in case. Kuja had been caught by Beatrix. Whether that was a good thing or not, he wasn't sure. She threw him to his knees, slapping a pair of heavy steel handcuffs over his delicate wrists. Kuja just closed his eyes wearily, unable to fight back.
"You're under arrest . . ." the general hissed, tightening the shackles so that they dug painfully hard into Kuja's skin. The angry woman was about to put a sleep spell on her capture when he whimpered and leaned forward slightly, tugging at her heartstrings for a reason that she could not fathom.
/What's the point of putting him to sleep?/ she thought, frowning. /He seems dead on his feet already . . . How strange . . . What could have happened to cause this terrible condition?/
Kuja shuddered, his face pale. Beatrix's eyes flashed and she crouched down next to him, peering intently into his face.
His lips were coated with blood . . .
A thin line of red liquid dripped out of the corner of his mouth and rolled down his chin, falling with a small splash onto the unpaved road. Beatrix gently wiped some up with one finger, staring at the blood as if it were the wrong color. She rose slowly, glaring at the circle of soldiers around her as she did so.
"Who . . .? Did this . . .?" she whispered quietly, displaying the blood- stained finger before them. The soldiers shifted uncomfortably, trying to appear less suspicious. The general's eye narrowed dangerously.
"I want to know . . . who caused our prisoner to bleed . . ."
A hand clamped down on her shoulder. Beatrix whipped around only to find herself face to face with Zidane, who was leering furiously.
"Don't . . . touch him." Zidane commanded, lip twitching. Beatrix stepped back immediately, inclining her head.
"Zidane, I'm so sorry," she apologized, wiping the blood off on her wrist guard. "One of these fools got a little too excited apparently. It will not happen again,"
"No. It won't. Or I will file for police brutality,"
Beatrix paled, eye widening. Police brutality offered the capital punishment of death in the Alexandrian courts. She wondered briefly why Zidane was so upset. Did he realize who the knave was kneeling down at her feet?!
Kuja licked his stained lips angrily, rising carefully to his feet. What the hell had just happened? He looked up at Zidane. Then at Megan who was cowering behind him. A feeling of guilt sank into his heart and he looked away quickly, bowing his head in shame.
"Why are they doing this?!" Megan cried, peering over Zidane's shoulder. "He never did anything wrong!" Zidane brushed the brunette away, still glaring at Beatrix.
"Take off the handcuffs," he commanded, pointing a finger at Kuja's inert form. Beatrix blinked at him as if the young boy had lost his mind.
"Zidane, I don't think you realize who this is. I mean, I know it's been awhile and all, but - "
"Take them off."
Beatrix looked ready to argue but finally sighed and nodded her head to a nearby soldier. The nervous militant crept forward, bracing herself as if expecting Kuja to blow her up or something. Not that she didn't have good reason for thinking so.
Kuja didn't move. The soldier carefully undid the shackles and darted away. The silver-haired man just let his arms drop to his sides.
Beatrix's grip on her sword tightened apprehensively as she waited for the genome to strike. Zidane stepped forward, standing directly in front of the sorcerer. There was a moment of silence.
"Where have you been?" he asked finally, folding his arms over his chest. Kuja raised his eyes, frowning. He said nothing.
"I thought you were dead," Zidane continued, voice remaining stern. Megan's face clouded over with confusion. How did the future king of Alexandria know Feather?
"Why did you vanish like that? Why didn't you come back to Alexandria with me?"
All that could be heard was the sound of the wind. The Alexandrian soldiers and Beatrix all stood by, watching. Many of the citizens in the street (at least those with common sense) went walking briskly off, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire as it was apparent that two high- ranking people were very, very angry. Megan was at a loss for words. Finally, Kuja spoke, his voice filled with suppressed sadness.
"Because I did not want to . . ."
"Zidane!" all heads jerked in the direction of the voice. Queen Garnet was standing at the end of a nearby road, looking frightened over all of the commotion.
"Dagger . . ." Zidane turned towards his fiancé as she came running into the square. The youth glanced apologetically back at Kuja, biting his lip like he always did. The other genome simply looked away.
"Zidane! What's going on?! Why are all these - "
She stopped. Her eyes fell on Kuja. The queen stared at him for what seemed like forever, her eyes dancing with conflicting emotions, before letting out a strangled gasp and falling to her knees, covering her mouth with one hand in horror. Beatrix made a movement to go to the queen, however Zidane was already at her side, crouched down next to his girl, hands on her shoulders.
"Dagger, Dagger please. Don't say anything yet,"
Garnet let out a choked sob, face in her hands. "Oh god! It's a nightmare! What have I done to deserve this?!"
Megan's eyes went from Garnet to Kuja, Garnet to Kuja. Back and forth. She had absolutely no idea what was going on. Zidane sighed.
"Beatrix, can you take him up to the castle," he nodded his head towards Kuja. "I've got to talk to Dagger privately,"
Beatrix nodded understandingly. "Of course," she gave Kuja a swift glare. The genome simply stared at the road.
"Oh, and also," Zidane added, smoothing his thumb over Garnet's tear-soaked cheek. "I won't file for police brutality. If you look closely, his lip's not cut,"
The Alexandrian soldiers all glanced at each other in surprise, then turned back to their general as the one-eyed woman furrowed her brow and stared at Kuja's face. It was true . . . There was nothing there that could possibly explain any blood . . .
Zidane turned back to his fiancé and Beatrix took that as a sign that she could go. She grasped Kuja by the arm and began to drag him away, yanking him hard. The soldiers all scattered back into the city, heading towards their usual assignments. Megan took a step forward to follow her friend, however, Zidane caught her arm and shook his head, frowning.
"No, I think you'd better stay here with me," he muttered, his eyes watching the retreating backs of the others.
Garnet just continued to sob.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Did it work?" Drakja asked, still trying to imagine the scene in his mind. The Master nodded, smirking.
"You bet it did. Now really, did you ever once doubt me?"
"Of course not,"
"Good. I'm just worried that it was a bit too much. You understand how it works, yes?"
Drakja fingered the large red weapon tacked into his belt, lips twisting into a grin. "What do you think I use THIS for?"
"Have you ever actually handled it?" The Master queried, cocking his head to the side.
"Many times,"
"No, you idiot. I mean the OTHER setting,"
"Ah. Well, only on an occasional monster," Drakja admitted, his fingers twisting over the handle greedily. "But I would love to test it out on something . . . more sentient perhaps?"
"Hmm. I would like to know your reasoning,"
Drakja grinned, pulling the weapon out of its sheathe. "The definition of sentient is having sense or perception of consciousness. In other words, a dragon is only aware of life. It is living. It has always been living. They do not perceive death as inevitable. But a human, a sentient being, understands death. They know that their time will come eventually," the green-eyed man raised the weapon out in front of him, his eyes looking down its front as if aiming at a phantom target before him. "And there would be nothing more entertaining than watching a creature afflicted by this weapon and knowing that IT knows what is to happen next,"
"But if you have never used it," The Master interrupted, leaning forward with interest. "Then how do you know that a sentient being will perceive what is to happen next? That is no normal weapon. Death is not the result of its use,"
Drakja laughed, snapping the weapon and spinning it jauntily. "Believe me. They would know . . ."
"And they WILL know . . ."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Later that night, Megan sat alone in her room back at the inn. Zidane had had a private talk with the queen and then told Megan to go back to wherever she had come from. Megan had done so, but only because she was too confused to do anything else. Amy hadn't interrogated her. She had sensed immediately that her friend wanted to be left alone.
Eventually, the door creaked open and Zidane stepped inside, looking grave.
"Megan?" he queried, shutting the door slowly. "That's your name, right?" Megan just nodded, wringing her fingers. Zidane continued, sitting down quietly on the bed next to her. "I'm really sorry about what happened,"
"Is he okay?" the young woman asked, glancing up at the soon-to-be king. Zidane nodded, mimicking her funeral-like attitude.
"Yeah. He was just kind of spooked I guess,"
"Well, I would be too if the great General Beatrix had snuck up behind me and sent half her squad out to kill me,"
The blonde genome half-smiled, folding his arms over his chest. "Do I detect a note of sarcasm in that last comment?"
"You are very perceptive . . ."
Zidane smirked, deciding he liked the strange girl that had come to town.
"So where is he?" Megan asked, eyes flat with exhaustion. The other sighed heavily, raising his eyes to the ceiling.
"He's still at the castle. I didn't want him outside,"
Megan made a face. "Who died and made YOU boss?"
Zidane's lip twitched and he nearly laughed. "Well, he's actually older than I am,"
"What's THAT supposed to mean?"
Zidane ran his fingers through his hair, trying to think of a good way to break the news to her.
"Megan," he began, looking her squarely in the eyes.
"That man is my brother . . ."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Damn, that was weird. I have to be honest, Drakja was kind of scaring me there. What with the whole, watching a sentient being die and stuff. Icky. But he IS a villain after all. And villains must be, well, villainous. And I just realized something totally weird. Kuja only has one line spoken out loud in this entire chapter! How crazy is that?! Anyhow, sorry for the mess. Review, review, review! I love them!!!!!!!!!!!
!!!!!!!! Black Mage Dad !!!!!!!!
P.S. Sorry about the delay, but I had a problem with the formatting. No matter what I did, the stupid thing always turned my paragraphs into one big clump! Finally, I just said "Screw this" and hit "clear all formatting." Then I had to redo every single line . . . *sigh* The things I put up with!