A/N: Holy Guacamole! I've never gotten so many reviews in my life as I did
for the last chapter! Gracious . . . You're all . . . too kind . . . *sob*
I LOVE YOU ALL!!! Anonymous, Beholder of the Shadows, Siyengo, Kuja San
AKA. Sara Buu, Angel of Death 87, SunDiamond, Sors, Piccolo999, ThunDaga
(ooh, thanks for not telling what the word meant ^_^), Raining-Fire-1000,
poohsbestfriend (the real Triss, by the way), ShiAne, Madwritter, and
Joseph, YOU'RE ALL SO COOL!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you! So let's
see . . . There were fifteen reviews, how many got the Kuja-feather
question right . . .? Hey, five people! Not bad! Um, ShiAne got it,
ThunDaga got it, Angel of Death 87 got it, uh . . . Siyengo did, and
Beholder of the Shadows got it! Congrats, guy! Yeah, it was in chapter
thirteen or something. Zidane found it after Kuja vanished near the Iifa
Tree and, thinking Kuja was dead and the feather was the last thing left of
him, Zidane put it on a silver chain and wore it around his neck like a
necklace (he still has it, by the way. It'll probably be mentioned again
later). Baku was the one that caught Zidane wearing it and forced him to
confess why he still had it. Yeah . . . Um, some people thought Kuja lost
it in the fight with Drakja and you know what, you guys are still awesome!
Because that means you remember something else that I, Black Mage Dad,
forgot (bad BMD, bad!) After Kuja transformed, Lulian spotted a RED
feather on the ground that had drifted from Kuja's hair (which highlights
red when he changes). But she put it back down and Zidane took it and was
sort of afraid of it (for obvious reasons). So if you said that, you're
still great. And if you didn't get it, that's okay 'cause even I had to
look back to find the chapter and stuff. Thanks everyone!
Disclaimer: Lawyers are evil . . . They make me have to admit to my lack of owning Final Fantasy . . . EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL!!!
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"Everything is coming back to me, the true . . ."
- Currently unknown character, Deep Dive (Kingdom Hearts)
"Come on, bitch! Summon for Master Garland!"
Several of the geonomes snickered as they lazed around the chamber and watched Chikara whip the young Summoner who had fallen so easily into their midst. The geonomes seemed to think this was all some sort of sport. Megan sobbed as she fell limp within her shackles.
"I . . . I can't!" she cried for about the millionth time that day. Chikara's face contorted with annoyance.
"Don't be coy with me! You will summon when we tell you to summon!"
Megan's face reddened with fury. "How can I perform a task I'm physically incapable of doing?!"
Chikara opened his mouth to respond when one of the other geonomes leapt to his feet excitedly.
"Hey, Chikara, man! Give ME a turn with her!"
"Yeah, me too! I'll slap that bitch until she's POURING Eidolons on us!"
Megan's eyes widened with fear. /These people are INSANE!!!/
"How many times do I have to tell you - "
The door suddenly slammed open containing such force that it bounced back off the wall with the sound of a pistol-shot. Even Megan leapt in her chains, yelping. All the geonomes in the room snapped to their feet instantly and stood still in rigid military-stances in case it was Garland or a high-ranking geonome entering the room.
But the sight that met the geonomes was not exactly what they'd expected . . .
Drakja, his eyes glazed over in pain, stumbled half-dazed into the room. His face was twisted in agony and he clutched onto the wall, breathing hard. Then, as if overwhelmed by something only he could see, Drakja collapsed to his knees and began to cough furiously.
The geonomes all glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes. This had been happening more and more lately and Drakja's minions were starting to question their leader's sanity. Chikara did not even look at Drakja. It was hard to tell if he was ashamed of his master or completely indifferent to the odd actions.
Between coughs, Drakja managed to speak. "Chikara - get - out - of - here!" he gasped, barely able to catch his breath. "Garland . . . Garland wants to speak with you! GO!!!"
Chikara hesitated, glancing at his shivering master. Drakja frowned, coughing.
"Are you . . . defying orders?!"
Chikara bit his lip, twiddling the whip between his fingers. "Drakja, sir. Before I move, I must know . . . What are you doing?"
Drakja's eyes widened. Chikara seemed generally curious, not accusing. But that wasn't the point . . . Drakja sobered immediately with fury and rose, bristling, to his feet.
"You are out of place, beta!" Drakja's cough was completely gone, but he was blushing. No one could know what was plaguing him . . .
No one . . .
Chikara dropped his head slightly, ducking his tail between his ankles. "I'm sorry, sir . . ."
Drakja tried to make himself as threatening as possible despite the fact that Chikara was physically more muscular than himself.
"Are you questioning my authority, Chikara?! Have you forgotten your place?!"
Megan watched, fascinated. /So it's true, then . . . They ARE set up like a wolf-pack . . . Weird . . ./
The other geonomes shifted nervously, not wanting to get themselves involved. They knew as well as Chikara that after one of his vulnerable fits, Drakja typically got very edgy . . .
"Well?!" Drakja spat, snarling. "Have you?!"
Chikara bowed his head. "No, sir . . . I'll go now . . ." He scampered hurriedly past his seething master, tucking his whip into his belt. Drakja watched him go, growling, and then whipped back to the other geonomes.
"What the HELL are you all doing in here?! OUT!!!"
They didn't need to be told twice. At least a dozen geonomes clawed and bit at each other to get out the door at the same time, not wanting to be caught in the room with Drakja's fury.
The geonome, forgetting Megan was still shackled within the shadows of the room, slumped to the floor once more and curled himself into a ball, whimpering. The visions that had been plaguing him before were returning . . . Consuming him . . .
/Flash/
"What's your problem, brat? You wanna mess?"
"Man, what a little punk! Lookit him cry!"
"Haha! Wuss!"
"Cry-baby!"
The little child sniffled, wiping his eyes with one grass-stained hand. The other children that stood over him were laughing as one of the boys thrust his foot into the weeping child's side. His silver hair was caked with dirt as he shook with small sobs.
Nearby stood another boy, a little younger in age. His green eyes were bright with curiosity as he gripped his father's hand and watched the pathetic sight. The older man was laughing.
"See that, Drakja? That's what they call Natural Selection. You see, only the strongest of the species survive and they prey on the weak to get rid of them. Then the weak can't reproduce and, when the weak genes aren't passed on, the species grows stronger,"
The little boy blinked, staring at the children across the park that brutally beat upon the silver-haired child. At his tender young age, he could not even begin to comprehend the true horror behind what the boys were doing . . .
A shriek suddenly arose from the other end of the park. A woman was running through the grass, lifting the hem of her dress to keep it off the ground. Her beautiful, fair face was twisted with fury yet despite her anger she remained almost angelic in appearance. Her nearly white blonde hair was unraveling from its bun as she ran.
"Stop it!" she screamed, running up to one of the young boys and smacking him powerfully across the face. "You monsters! Get away from him! How DARE you take advantage of his condition!!!"
The young Drakja felt his father's hand tighten upon his as if in annoyance, but he didn't say a word.
The young woman with the ghostly hair, after roundly smacking each of the boys and threatening to tell their parents, dropped to her knees beside the crying little boy and gently tried to quiet him.
"It's okay, Saishoja," she murmured, running a thumb over his cut cheek. "They're gone, they - "
She froze, her crystal blue eyes widening with sheer disbelief as they finally noticed the man standing silently a few yards away. She seemed mute with shock for several moments and then she began to tremble with passionate hate.
". . . Uragiru . . . You . . . You stood there this entire time and watched them do this . . . and you didn't try to STOP THEM?!!"
Uragiru smiled a truly cunning smile and squeezed Drakja's small hand gently.
"Ah, Isra . . . Please, you must not accuse me so. It is simply the only way your son can be trained . . . How will he learn to fight if he cannot be in the army?" he glanced fondly at Drakja at this statement and smirked. Isra's face reddened and she roughly seized her son up into her arms.
"He doesn't need to fight to be a worthy member of society! He is smart! He will matter one day!"
Uragiru threw his head back, laughing. "Matter? I think not! In this age of building tensions among the cities, the people of Terra care only if their men can fight. Have you not heard? One of the local commanders has mentioned Drakja's name to a captain. He may become one of the youngest boys accepted into the army in the history of Tanjo AND Terra!"
He ruffled his young son's hair in a fatherly fashion, but Drakja's emerald eyes - so like his father's - were looking strangely at the little boy in Isra's arms. The boy who, despite being at least two years older than Drakja himself, was more helpless than a newborn mouse . . . But he couldn't question his father's actions. That would be stepping out of bounds in more ways than one . . .
"Mama, put me down . . ." Saishoja whimpered, fearfully listening to the words that Uragiru spoke. "Mama, please . . ."
Isra hesitated, looking down at the boy in her arms. With a sigh, she lowered him carefully into the grass. Saishoja wobbled and clutched onto his mother's skirt. Uragiru shook his head as if embarrassed by something.
"Father, can we go?" Drakja queried suddenly, looking up inquisitively at the older man. Uragiru blinked and then, chuckling, nodded.
"Yes, yes . . . Let us go. It shan't be long before the day arrives that those like Saishoja are weeded out BEFORE they are born . . ."
Isra's face contorted as if she'd been stabbed and she angrily yanked Saishoja off his feet once more. As she watched Uragiru go, however, her expression turned to one of utmost fear.
"Saishoja . . . Saishoja, we must flee . . . tonight; to Shi. They will accept us. Their minds are not muddled with thoughts of war and swords. Yes, tonight we shall run to Shi . . . Lord forgive me . . . For I have betrayed Him,"
Saishoja shuddered as his mother lowered him to the ground. He could feel her trembling as she stood there. For a moment he swayed once more, and then a piercing pain seemed to run through his body. For merely a second he stood there, stiff with fear, and then suddenly a strange wisdom seemed to light his face. A veil appeared to be pulled from his eyes and in that moment he knew the truth:
One day he, too, would fight . . .
And then they would ALL see . . .
/Flash/
Drakja's eyes seemed to be a million miles away. Megan stared at him in horror, for a moment forgetting the pain that ripped through her flesh. The man she had come to fear so greatly was lying curled up on the floor and shivering as if he'd seen a ghost. Megan bit her lip, frowning.
/What is this . . .? Do I . . . pity him . . .?!/
And then Drakja's eyes snapped back into focus and he unfurled himself, blinking in confusion. He seemed stunned. But when he rolled onto his back his eyes caught sight of the prisoner staring so piteously at his pathetic form. The geonome's first instinct was anger, but the fury immediately melted into a sadness he could not describe. It made him long for Lulian, who remained isolated in the infirmary-ward recovering from her injuries.
"Did you . . . see everything?" Drakja queried softly. Megan, too confounded to speak, nodded, yes. Drakja seemed even more troubled than before and he rose slowly to his feet. For a moment he hesitated, and then, finally, he spoke.
"Don't take life for granted," he murmured softly. "In a few days you're going to see what comes to those who let life pass them by," then he added as an after-thought: "I'm not insane,"
Megan's eyes flickered with curiosity as the geonome padded from the dungeon. She was still absorbing Drakja's strange words.
"In a few days I will see what comes to those who let life pass them by?" And then she understood . . .
". . . Kuja . . ."
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The crew seemed rather worried as they listened to what Kuja had to say. Zidane, albeit reluctantly, admitted to having sensed a strange presence upon the land as well.
"I know what you mean," the blonde genome muttered, scratching the back of his head as he sat by the fire. The glow cast deep, trembling shadows over the faces of the group and caused Kuja's silver hair to glisten eerily against the snowy backdrop. "Ever since we got here I've noticed it. I mean, we know Garland's ship is parked close, but I've got the feeling it's a little closer than we counted on . . ."
"That's not the only thing I sense . . ." Kuja whispered, gazing out across the ghostly tundra. "There's something else . . . Something weird . . ."
Zidane raised an eyebrow, staring at his brother. If he didn't know better he would've said Kuja was . . . listening to something . . .
"Kuja . . . what is it?" Beatrix queried, looking up innocently at the silver-haired genome. Kuja, who had spaced out slightly, blinked and shook his head.
"Ah, nothing . . . Nothing to get concerned over. None of you sense it, right? So it's not a big deal . . ."
Zidane wasn't the only one who thought that statement made no sense. If Kuja sensed it, then it was doubly a concern. His genome perception skills were amazing.
"M-maybe somebody else should go stand guard . . ." Garnet offered, glancing around the circle. Quina waved one pudgy arm excitedly in the air.
"Quina do it!" he cried as if the cold had no affect. "Quina turn Mist monsters into sausages!"
Kuja folded his arms across his chest, slightly ashamed that they thought he couldn't stand around and take down a few monsters . . . Monsters he, himself, had created in the first place . . . Now that he thought about it, rightfully he should've been the one to kill them.
"No, I'll do it," Kuja snapped, glowering. "It's my job. I'll do it . . ."
Freya rolled her eyes and muttered "suck-up" under her breath. Beatrix shrugged.
"If you're sure . . ."
"I'm sure,"
Kuja, without another word, stormed away from his newfound comrades. He was mad that they were so willing to replace him. He hated being replaced, after all . . .
Once he was far from their eyes, however, he immediately focused on the presence he'd been feeling. He wished he could at least tell Zidane what it was that he sensed, but something was holding him back. Besides, it seemed only he could hear it.
Every time the wind blew Kuja heard voices whispering to his ears. At times he felt the voices came from within himself and it was then that he was reminded of the things that lurked within his very soul. Those people that corrupted him . . . If the sorcerer concentrated hard enough he could practically hear what they were saying, but most of the time it was just a bunch of muddled up gargling. Was Garland doing this to confuse him?
/The Mist . . ./ one of the voices whispered, wrapping itself around Kuja's heart. The genome winced, shaking his head to rid it of the infernal racket.
/The Mist . . ./ they moaned once more. Kuja was under the impression that they were calling to it . . . pleading with it as if the Mist had a heart and soul.
"Well, maybe it does," Kuja joked aloud. "It IS made of souls . . . Well, the dregs at least . . ."
/Free us! It calls to us! He will find us!/
Kuja closed his eyes at the barrage of screams within his mind. It wasn't the first time and probably not the last . . . They sounded like they were panicking. He wished he could understand them better.
"Why do you want the Mist?" Kuja queried, rubbing his forehead agitatedly. A wind picked up and Kuja could practically smell the dregs of souls upon it.
"Maybe I AM going insane . . ."
"Kuja, we're moving on!" a voice shouted from the distance. Kuja blinked, and then realized it was Lani, not one of the weird whisperings of the wind . . .
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"So let me get this straight . . . We're going to keep walking through the FRIGID cold until we find a forest with no snow which, mind you, could be ANYWHERE on the entire continent?!"
". . . Exactly . . ."
"And . . . how do you propose we do this?"
"Um, well . . ."
"Couldn't that be it right there?"
Ummei blinked innocently as he cut into Dart and Drakja's argument. The two geonomes stared at him blankly for several seconds and then looked in the direction he was pointing. Tucked away in a valley between two mountainous hills of snow was a large, barren forest. It's trees were twisted and gnarled, the evergreens sagging as if a heat were drying them to a crisp. Drakja made a face of the utmost disgust.
"Yes . . . That could be it . . ."
Once the trio had completed their descent into the valley, they allowed themselves to be swallowed up by the trees. Darkness overtook them in the chill as a creeping heat began to press their skin. Now they were within the forest of Triss . . .
"Dude, this place is SO weird . . ." Dart pointed out, flipping her mahogany curls over her shoulder as they trekked. The pinecone needles and twigs snapped beneath their feet, echoing like gunshots in the eerie silence. Not a bird or animal could be seen or heard, yet occasionally the geonomes passed an animal hide or skeleton nestled among the decay of the forest floor.
"I-I don't like it here . . ." Ummei whimpered, glancing around fearfully. Drakja sighed.
/Why is it that out of more than a hundred geonomes, Garland always pairs me up with THESE numbskulls?! Gah, it's so not fair . . ./
"So, are we looking for a cave or something?" Dart queried, twirling one of her bracelets around her finger. Drakja shrugged.
"Sounds like it . . ."
"A cave in a FOREST . . .?"
". . . That's what Garland said . . ."
"Is THAT it . . .?"
Ummei tapped Drakja on the shoulder and pointed. The trio froze as they spotted a looming black cave cut into a mountainous protrusion in the forest floor. Jagged stalactites hung lazily from the ceiling giving the cave the appearance of roaring jaws. The group stared at it in amazement for several seconds before Drakja, annoyed, beckoned them to continue.
An intense heat was beginning to build as they neared the yawning cave. Soon, even Drakja was fanning himself. Though the cave was completely open and nothing blocked its entrance, there was also nothing inside . . . Or, at least, nothing they could see in the darkness . . . Dart cocked her head curiously.
"Think we should, like, knock on the wall or something?"
Drakja shrugged. "It's worth a shot . . . Ummei, go knock on the wall,"
Ummei's green eyes widened with fear. "WHAT?!! Why me?!"
"Because you're the omega and you have to do what we tell you!" Dart snapped, shoving Ummei forward. He stumbled and, naturally, tripped over his untied boot lace. He tumbled into the dirt entrance and lay there blinking stupidly for several seconds. Suddenly, a boot came down hard upon his hand. Ummei yelped, closing his eyes as a slicing sound filled the air. There was a soft cackle from above him and when the geonome looked up, his face became filled with dread.
Standing with its boot upon Ummei's hand was a small, cloaked figure lost in the folds of ebony cloth. A pair of black eyes sparkled from beneath the hood, but its face, otherwise, could not be seen. It's teeth flashed white as it smiled and, despite the fact that the person (or whatever it was) was less than five feet tall, it's voice was strong and sinister.
"Don't move your hand, fool, unless you wish to be cut. The bottoms of these boots contain retractable knives . . . Wouldn't want to lose a finger, eh lad?"
Drakja was sure the creature was joking, but when she (as could be determined from the voice) lifted her foot, they saw the glittering, deadly blades. There was a metallic slice and the knives withdrew themselves back into the sole. The creature put her foot down and it's face became lost within the cloak once more.
"I-I take it you're Triss?" Drakja queried, still a bit startled by the girl's sudden appearance. The creature's face turned in his direction and though Drakja couldn't see the eyes, he could feel her piercing gaze upon him.
"Only one creature lives within this forest and that be Triss . . . All others have long since died . . . If you're not talking to Triss, you are talking to a corpse . . ."
All three geonomes gulped. Triss smirked.
"Follow me . . ."
It was difficult to see in the dim shading of the cave, so the geonomes simply allowed the cloaked creature to lead them. She was much different than Drakja had imagined. After all of Garland's warnings, he'd pictured a monstrous beast with glistening fangs and maddened eyes. But instead, all he saw was a young girl, not more than 4'9" in height, who spoke not a word unless spoken to.
The black cloak swished with her every move, sweeping the dusty cave floor as they passed countless cauldrons and bubbling beakers. The heat was becoming more intense and the geonomes could see the throbbing light of the furnace-room where Triss melded her custom-made weapons.
"This room's reserved for the poisons . . ." Triss murmured, not even turning as she addressed her customers. Despite the heat of the room, the odd creature would not lower her hood. Only a few black strands of hair drifted from its frame, obscuring her pale face.
Eventually she stopped and peered into a clear beaker fizzing with a violet liquid atop one of the many crates that lined the walls. As if half- interested in the guests, she queried:
"What have you come to buy?"
Ummei was obviously too scared to speak. Dart, of course, was eager to answer, but Drakja, from experience, held up a hand to silence her.
"We've been sent by Garland," Drakja explained, stiff with the fright he would not admit to. "He claims he has already spoken with you,"
Triss snorted. "Aye, and not spoken a word of what he wants . . . Only what he plans to do . . ."
"Ah, well - " Drakja began to speak once more, but Triss held up an arm, still peering intently at the boiling purple liquid.
"Be quick, fool!" she snarled with a voice much harsher than would be expected of such a small person. "I have limited time!"
Drakja nodded hurriedly, running his fingers through his hair. "Garland requests your silver bullets . . . the ones coated in Momoku . . ."
Triss seemed slightly startled and she rose slowly to peer up at the cowering geonome. Her sharp, black eyes bore straight into his soul, spearing his heart with its piercing gaze.
"Garland requests the Momoku-tama? Hmm . . . Then his plan is more sinister than I thought. What be the target? Quickly, fool!"
Drakja cleared his throat, nodding nervously. "H-he plans to shoot Saishoja's Shishon, Kuja. Or should I say, I must shoot - "
Triss was cackling with glee. "The first Angel of Death? My, my . . . Garland plans to use these on a creature that he ought have killed YEARS ago!"
Drakja shivered. "R-regardless . . . I really must have those bullets . . ."
Triss nodded, still muttering incoherently to herself. "I must get them . . . Delicate, they are. Touch nothing!"
As Triss began to shuffle among the many containers, the geonomes half- listened fearfully to her words.
"The Momoku . . . I say, what a cruel thing Garland plans. My finest poison, aye, my finest . . . Rarely kills, nope. Rarely . . . Not my style, death. What joy is gained lest the victim suffer, eh?" she glanced up at Ummei as she lifted a beaker out from one of the shelves. The omega squirmed under her black stare. Though Triss didn't appear much older than fifteen, she was as frightful as the monsters sent straight from Hell itself. Garland's warnings were starting to seem much more a reality . . .
"Yes, yes, the Momoku . . ." Triss continued. "Once absorbed into the bloodstream it can take hours to show signs of existence . . . aye, I've had test subjects not even realize they were poisoned until stage two . . ." she chuckled as if sharing a private joke with herself. "Yes, stage two . . . The fever. Some victims die of stage two, yes . . . Fevers the likes of which no other poison or disease can bring . . . The victim suffers for one night. One night only. Some die then, yes. Most appear to have died, at least. But at that point, the true purpose of the Momoku is revealed . . ."
"A-and what's that?" Ummei queried.
Triss's black eyes glinted in the gloom of the cave and for a moment they saw the piercing red of her pupils; like a cat's.
"That, only the victims and the witnesses shall know . . ."
A heavy silence descended upon the group. Dart was busy tapping the side of one of the beakers. Unfortunately, the sound of Triss's retractable knives cut the air and she aimed a kick at Dart.
"Touch nothing!"
Dart stepped down obediently, blushing. Ummei was staring nervously at a blood-soaked table and the jar of white orbs sitting atop it. If he hadn't known better he would have said they were sightless eyeballs . . .
"What in the . . .?"
"Get away from there!"
There was the sound of flames and Ummei yelped, enveloped in the pyre that shot from Triss's hand. Drakja and Dart's eyes widened with surprise as Ummei dropped to his knees whimpering. Then the fire vanished with a swoosh and he sat there, completely unscathed. Triss chuckled.
"Fooled ya . . . Ah, here they are! The Momoku-tama! I keep them sealed, see, for they are potent and if any of my . . . test subjects . . . were to get into them it would be a nasty problem . . ."
Triss emerged from beneath a set of crates holding a small box which she opened to reveal a dozen glistening silver bullets.
"Now, these can fit into almost any gun . . ." Triss explained in her quiet, sinister voice. "But let me see your weapon just in case . . ."
Drakja nodded, shivering, and withdrew the large red gun from the sheathe around his belt. When he held it up, Triss let out a strangled cry that seemed to be a screech of surprise, anger, and confusion all muddled into one horrible noise.
"You! Where did you get that gun?!"
Drakja paled, stepping away from the snarling creature hurriedly. "G- Garland gave it to me!"
"G-Garland . . . ?!" Triss spluttered, mimicking Drakja's previous comment. "He trusted you with my most precious creation?!"
Drakja's emerald eyes widened. /So THIS is the inventor of my gun! But this weapon is considered the most dangerous gun on Gaia and Terra! Triss is even more powerful than I thought!/
"Fool, do you even know what it can do?!" Triss growled, stepping up to Drakja and looking angrily into his face. Though Drakja was almost a foot and a half taller than her, he still cowered beneath Triss's glare.
"Y-yes . . . Garland wishes me to use it . . . But not until later . . . It has many functions . . ."
"Yes, scum, I know that! I CREATED it!"
"Oh . . . right . . ."
"Have you ever used it?" Triss queried suspiciously. Drakja blushed, recalling the time he'd nearly used its irreversible effects upon Mikoto.
"O-only once . . . But only because I lost my temper . . ."
"Idiot!" Triss shrieked, kicking Drakja hard in the shin. He stumbled backwards, biting his lip with pain. "That gun is not something you can simply swing around as you wish! It is a calculated, precise weapon! It must be used while the victim is holding still and you must take everything! And you must be able to hold it as well, for if you lose the weapon's contents, they will be lost forever!"
"I-I know . . ."
Suddenly, Triss's lips twisted into a grin. "So who's the lucky victim?"
Drakja, taken-aback, responded: "Well, lots of people . . . But the most important one is Kuja. But first I need to shoot him with those bullets," he pointed at the box Triss was holding. She howled with laughter that seemed to sharply contrast her typically stoic nature.
"Ah, Garland always was the master schemer! I did not realize his plan was so precise . . . and devious. It all makes sense now . . ."
Drakja noted that Triss and Garland seemed to know each other.
"Are you from Terra?" Drakja queried innocently. Triss smirked.
"Of course not . . . Do you honestly think I would bare my name to that doomed rock?" her eyes glittered mischievously, and Drakja realized she was plotting something. "Only fools bare their names to places they are not of . . .".
/Flash/
"S-Saishoja . . . You will be fighting for Shi? B-but you are not of their people! You were not born there!"
"Silence, Drakja! I will decide whom I bare my name to!"
/Flash/
Drakja shook his head, frowning. Triss seemed strangely satisfied.
"Well, take the darn bullets!" she snapped, holding out the box. "Load the gun quickly and get out of here!"
Drakja nodded, taking the box and, one by one, placing each of the bullets into its designated cartridge. Triss watched, smiling beneath her hood.
"I have also heard from Garland," she said softly. "That one of your people will be going to one of the nearby forests to ask of a certain creature to fight for you . . ."
Drakja nodded, silencing Dart and Ummei with a look. "Yes, Chikara is going to a forest a few hundred miles from here to get the monster to attack our enemies . . . I think she's just a distraction so I can shoot the Angel of Death . . ."
Triss shrugged, bored. "I never liked that snow-monster anyways . . ."
"Alright, I'm done," Drakja said, nodding. "Guess we'll be going. Uh . . . thank you . . . I, uh . . . just love what you've done with the cave . . ."
Triss smirked as Drakja beckoned his fellow geonomes out of the cave with him. She watched their retreating forms for several moments and then called out:
"You might want to wash your hands in the snow, fool! You must have touched those poison-coated bullets in every way possible!"
Drakja let out an "eep" of fright and dropped hurriedly into the snow.
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Chikara stared intently at the creature perched above him; gazing placidly at him from a throne of ice.
"So will you help us?" he queried, casually awaiting its answer. The creature's lips cracked into a smile.
"All I have to do is attack this group of people?"
"Yes. You can kill anyone except the silver-haired genome,"
". . . Sounds too easy . . . What's the catch?"
Chikara smiled innocently, folding his arms across his chest. "They are powerful, that is all . . . Distract them while my master works and we will reward you with full ownership of the entire Shimmering Island and all land west of Triss's forest,"
There was a moment of hesitation before a delicate, tinkling laugh.
"I'd do it for half that . . ."
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A/N: GAH! Long chapter! They just . . . keep getting . . . longer . . . But who cares?! I like writing this fic! It's fun! So now we know the creator of Drakja's gun. Hint: it's important! Um . . . What was I gonna say? Oh yeah! Apparently ThunDaga knows what Momoku means, and so I have another little hint for him/her (sorry, but it's hard to tell with aliases, ya know?) Here's the hint (this is for her! Everyone else, back off! *hiss*): if you've seen the Kingdom Hearts Deep Dive video (or you can find screen shots of it on the internet) and you saw the "new" Riku, then you can figure out the purpose of the poison AND a few other hints I've made about other characters. Put two and two together and you might see it . . . I'll admit, Riku was an inspiration for part of the plot (he's so cute, isn't he? He TOTALLY looks like a fifteen year old Kuja). As for everyone else, I'll explain what I'm talking about around . . . chapter thirty-two- ish.
Rompyou! Rompyou! *whimpers* reviews please?
Disclaimer: Lawyers are evil . . . They make me have to admit to my lack of owning Final Fantasy . . . EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVIL!!!
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"Everything is coming back to me, the true . . ."
- Currently unknown character, Deep Dive (Kingdom Hearts)
"Come on, bitch! Summon for Master Garland!"
Several of the geonomes snickered as they lazed around the chamber and watched Chikara whip the young Summoner who had fallen so easily into their midst. The geonomes seemed to think this was all some sort of sport. Megan sobbed as she fell limp within her shackles.
"I . . . I can't!" she cried for about the millionth time that day. Chikara's face contorted with annoyance.
"Don't be coy with me! You will summon when we tell you to summon!"
Megan's face reddened with fury. "How can I perform a task I'm physically incapable of doing?!"
Chikara opened his mouth to respond when one of the other geonomes leapt to his feet excitedly.
"Hey, Chikara, man! Give ME a turn with her!"
"Yeah, me too! I'll slap that bitch until she's POURING Eidolons on us!"
Megan's eyes widened with fear. /These people are INSANE!!!/
"How many times do I have to tell you - "
The door suddenly slammed open containing such force that it bounced back off the wall with the sound of a pistol-shot. Even Megan leapt in her chains, yelping. All the geonomes in the room snapped to their feet instantly and stood still in rigid military-stances in case it was Garland or a high-ranking geonome entering the room.
But the sight that met the geonomes was not exactly what they'd expected . . .
Drakja, his eyes glazed over in pain, stumbled half-dazed into the room. His face was twisted in agony and he clutched onto the wall, breathing hard. Then, as if overwhelmed by something only he could see, Drakja collapsed to his knees and began to cough furiously.
The geonomes all glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes. This had been happening more and more lately and Drakja's minions were starting to question their leader's sanity. Chikara did not even look at Drakja. It was hard to tell if he was ashamed of his master or completely indifferent to the odd actions.
Between coughs, Drakja managed to speak. "Chikara - get - out - of - here!" he gasped, barely able to catch his breath. "Garland . . . Garland wants to speak with you! GO!!!"
Chikara hesitated, glancing at his shivering master. Drakja frowned, coughing.
"Are you . . . defying orders?!"
Chikara bit his lip, twiddling the whip between his fingers. "Drakja, sir. Before I move, I must know . . . What are you doing?"
Drakja's eyes widened. Chikara seemed generally curious, not accusing. But that wasn't the point . . . Drakja sobered immediately with fury and rose, bristling, to his feet.
"You are out of place, beta!" Drakja's cough was completely gone, but he was blushing. No one could know what was plaguing him . . .
No one . . .
Chikara dropped his head slightly, ducking his tail between his ankles. "I'm sorry, sir . . ."
Drakja tried to make himself as threatening as possible despite the fact that Chikara was physically more muscular than himself.
"Are you questioning my authority, Chikara?! Have you forgotten your place?!"
Megan watched, fascinated. /So it's true, then . . . They ARE set up like a wolf-pack . . . Weird . . ./
The other geonomes shifted nervously, not wanting to get themselves involved. They knew as well as Chikara that after one of his vulnerable fits, Drakja typically got very edgy . . .
"Well?!" Drakja spat, snarling. "Have you?!"
Chikara bowed his head. "No, sir . . . I'll go now . . ." He scampered hurriedly past his seething master, tucking his whip into his belt. Drakja watched him go, growling, and then whipped back to the other geonomes.
"What the HELL are you all doing in here?! OUT!!!"
They didn't need to be told twice. At least a dozen geonomes clawed and bit at each other to get out the door at the same time, not wanting to be caught in the room with Drakja's fury.
The geonome, forgetting Megan was still shackled within the shadows of the room, slumped to the floor once more and curled himself into a ball, whimpering. The visions that had been plaguing him before were returning . . . Consuming him . . .
/Flash/
"What's your problem, brat? You wanna mess?"
"Man, what a little punk! Lookit him cry!"
"Haha! Wuss!"
"Cry-baby!"
The little child sniffled, wiping his eyes with one grass-stained hand. The other children that stood over him were laughing as one of the boys thrust his foot into the weeping child's side. His silver hair was caked with dirt as he shook with small sobs.
Nearby stood another boy, a little younger in age. His green eyes were bright with curiosity as he gripped his father's hand and watched the pathetic sight. The older man was laughing.
"See that, Drakja? That's what they call Natural Selection. You see, only the strongest of the species survive and they prey on the weak to get rid of them. Then the weak can't reproduce and, when the weak genes aren't passed on, the species grows stronger,"
The little boy blinked, staring at the children across the park that brutally beat upon the silver-haired child. At his tender young age, he could not even begin to comprehend the true horror behind what the boys were doing . . .
A shriek suddenly arose from the other end of the park. A woman was running through the grass, lifting the hem of her dress to keep it off the ground. Her beautiful, fair face was twisted with fury yet despite her anger she remained almost angelic in appearance. Her nearly white blonde hair was unraveling from its bun as she ran.
"Stop it!" she screamed, running up to one of the young boys and smacking him powerfully across the face. "You monsters! Get away from him! How DARE you take advantage of his condition!!!"
The young Drakja felt his father's hand tighten upon his as if in annoyance, but he didn't say a word.
The young woman with the ghostly hair, after roundly smacking each of the boys and threatening to tell their parents, dropped to her knees beside the crying little boy and gently tried to quiet him.
"It's okay, Saishoja," she murmured, running a thumb over his cut cheek. "They're gone, they - "
She froze, her crystal blue eyes widening with sheer disbelief as they finally noticed the man standing silently a few yards away. She seemed mute with shock for several moments and then she began to tremble with passionate hate.
". . . Uragiru . . . You . . . You stood there this entire time and watched them do this . . . and you didn't try to STOP THEM?!!"
Uragiru smiled a truly cunning smile and squeezed Drakja's small hand gently.
"Ah, Isra . . . Please, you must not accuse me so. It is simply the only way your son can be trained . . . How will he learn to fight if he cannot be in the army?" he glanced fondly at Drakja at this statement and smirked. Isra's face reddened and she roughly seized her son up into her arms.
"He doesn't need to fight to be a worthy member of society! He is smart! He will matter one day!"
Uragiru threw his head back, laughing. "Matter? I think not! In this age of building tensions among the cities, the people of Terra care only if their men can fight. Have you not heard? One of the local commanders has mentioned Drakja's name to a captain. He may become one of the youngest boys accepted into the army in the history of Tanjo AND Terra!"
He ruffled his young son's hair in a fatherly fashion, but Drakja's emerald eyes - so like his father's - were looking strangely at the little boy in Isra's arms. The boy who, despite being at least two years older than Drakja himself, was more helpless than a newborn mouse . . . But he couldn't question his father's actions. That would be stepping out of bounds in more ways than one . . .
"Mama, put me down . . ." Saishoja whimpered, fearfully listening to the words that Uragiru spoke. "Mama, please . . ."
Isra hesitated, looking down at the boy in her arms. With a sigh, she lowered him carefully into the grass. Saishoja wobbled and clutched onto his mother's skirt. Uragiru shook his head as if embarrassed by something.
"Father, can we go?" Drakja queried suddenly, looking up inquisitively at the older man. Uragiru blinked and then, chuckling, nodded.
"Yes, yes . . . Let us go. It shan't be long before the day arrives that those like Saishoja are weeded out BEFORE they are born . . ."
Isra's face contorted as if she'd been stabbed and she angrily yanked Saishoja off his feet once more. As she watched Uragiru go, however, her expression turned to one of utmost fear.
"Saishoja . . . Saishoja, we must flee . . . tonight; to Shi. They will accept us. Their minds are not muddled with thoughts of war and swords. Yes, tonight we shall run to Shi . . . Lord forgive me . . . For I have betrayed Him,"
Saishoja shuddered as his mother lowered him to the ground. He could feel her trembling as she stood there. For a moment he swayed once more, and then a piercing pain seemed to run through his body. For merely a second he stood there, stiff with fear, and then suddenly a strange wisdom seemed to light his face. A veil appeared to be pulled from his eyes and in that moment he knew the truth:
One day he, too, would fight . . .
And then they would ALL see . . .
/Flash/
Drakja's eyes seemed to be a million miles away. Megan stared at him in horror, for a moment forgetting the pain that ripped through her flesh. The man she had come to fear so greatly was lying curled up on the floor and shivering as if he'd seen a ghost. Megan bit her lip, frowning.
/What is this . . .? Do I . . . pity him . . .?!/
And then Drakja's eyes snapped back into focus and he unfurled himself, blinking in confusion. He seemed stunned. But when he rolled onto his back his eyes caught sight of the prisoner staring so piteously at his pathetic form. The geonome's first instinct was anger, but the fury immediately melted into a sadness he could not describe. It made him long for Lulian, who remained isolated in the infirmary-ward recovering from her injuries.
"Did you . . . see everything?" Drakja queried softly. Megan, too confounded to speak, nodded, yes. Drakja seemed even more troubled than before and he rose slowly to his feet. For a moment he hesitated, and then, finally, he spoke.
"Don't take life for granted," he murmured softly. "In a few days you're going to see what comes to those who let life pass them by," then he added as an after-thought: "I'm not insane,"
Megan's eyes flickered with curiosity as the geonome padded from the dungeon. She was still absorbing Drakja's strange words.
"In a few days I will see what comes to those who let life pass them by?" And then she understood . . .
". . . Kuja . . ."
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The crew seemed rather worried as they listened to what Kuja had to say. Zidane, albeit reluctantly, admitted to having sensed a strange presence upon the land as well.
"I know what you mean," the blonde genome muttered, scratching the back of his head as he sat by the fire. The glow cast deep, trembling shadows over the faces of the group and caused Kuja's silver hair to glisten eerily against the snowy backdrop. "Ever since we got here I've noticed it. I mean, we know Garland's ship is parked close, but I've got the feeling it's a little closer than we counted on . . ."
"That's not the only thing I sense . . ." Kuja whispered, gazing out across the ghostly tundra. "There's something else . . . Something weird . . ."
Zidane raised an eyebrow, staring at his brother. If he didn't know better he would've said Kuja was . . . listening to something . . .
"Kuja . . . what is it?" Beatrix queried, looking up innocently at the silver-haired genome. Kuja, who had spaced out slightly, blinked and shook his head.
"Ah, nothing . . . Nothing to get concerned over. None of you sense it, right? So it's not a big deal . . ."
Zidane wasn't the only one who thought that statement made no sense. If Kuja sensed it, then it was doubly a concern. His genome perception skills were amazing.
"M-maybe somebody else should go stand guard . . ." Garnet offered, glancing around the circle. Quina waved one pudgy arm excitedly in the air.
"Quina do it!" he cried as if the cold had no affect. "Quina turn Mist monsters into sausages!"
Kuja folded his arms across his chest, slightly ashamed that they thought he couldn't stand around and take down a few monsters . . . Monsters he, himself, had created in the first place . . . Now that he thought about it, rightfully he should've been the one to kill them.
"No, I'll do it," Kuja snapped, glowering. "It's my job. I'll do it . . ."
Freya rolled her eyes and muttered "suck-up" under her breath. Beatrix shrugged.
"If you're sure . . ."
"I'm sure,"
Kuja, without another word, stormed away from his newfound comrades. He was mad that they were so willing to replace him. He hated being replaced, after all . . .
Once he was far from their eyes, however, he immediately focused on the presence he'd been feeling. He wished he could at least tell Zidane what it was that he sensed, but something was holding him back. Besides, it seemed only he could hear it.
Every time the wind blew Kuja heard voices whispering to his ears. At times he felt the voices came from within himself and it was then that he was reminded of the things that lurked within his very soul. Those people that corrupted him . . . If the sorcerer concentrated hard enough he could practically hear what they were saying, but most of the time it was just a bunch of muddled up gargling. Was Garland doing this to confuse him?
/The Mist . . ./ one of the voices whispered, wrapping itself around Kuja's heart. The genome winced, shaking his head to rid it of the infernal racket.
/The Mist . . ./ they moaned once more. Kuja was under the impression that they were calling to it . . . pleading with it as if the Mist had a heart and soul.
"Well, maybe it does," Kuja joked aloud. "It IS made of souls . . . Well, the dregs at least . . ."
/Free us! It calls to us! He will find us!/
Kuja closed his eyes at the barrage of screams within his mind. It wasn't the first time and probably not the last . . . They sounded like they were panicking. He wished he could understand them better.
"Why do you want the Mist?" Kuja queried, rubbing his forehead agitatedly. A wind picked up and Kuja could practically smell the dregs of souls upon it.
"Maybe I AM going insane . . ."
"Kuja, we're moving on!" a voice shouted from the distance. Kuja blinked, and then realized it was Lani, not one of the weird whisperings of the wind . . .
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"So let me get this straight . . . We're going to keep walking through the FRIGID cold until we find a forest with no snow which, mind you, could be ANYWHERE on the entire continent?!"
". . . Exactly . . ."
"And . . . how do you propose we do this?"
"Um, well . . ."
"Couldn't that be it right there?"
Ummei blinked innocently as he cut into Dart and Drakja's argument. The two geonomes stared at him blankly for several seconds and then looked in the direction he was pointing. Tucked away in a valley between two mountainous hills of snow was a large, barren forest. It's trees were twisted and gnarled, the evergreens sagging as if a heat were drying them to a crisp. Drakja made a face of the utmost disgust.
"Yes . . . That could be it . . ."
Once the trio had completed their descent into the valley, they allowed themselves to be swallowed up by the trees. Darkness overtook them in the chill as a creeping heat began to press their skin. Now they were within the forest of Triss . . .
"Dude, this place is SO weird . . ." Dart pointed out, flipping her mahogany curls over her shoulder as they trekked. The pinecone needles and twigs snapped beneath their feet, echoing like gunshots in the eerie silence. Not a bird or animal could be seen or heard, yet occasionally the geonomes passed an animal hide or skeleton nestled among the decay of the forest floor.
"I-I don't like it here . . ." Ummei whimpered, glancing around fearfully. Drakja sighed.
/Why is it that out of more than a hundred geonomes, Garland always pairs me up with THESE numbskulls?! Gah, it's so not fair . . ./
"So, are we looking for a cave or something?" Dart queried, twirling one of her bracelets around her finger. Drakja shrugged.
"Sounds like it . . ."
"A cave in a FOREST . . .?"
". . . That's what Garland said . . ."
"Is THAT it . . .?"
Ummei tapped Drakja on the shoulder and pointed. The trio froze as they spotted a looming black cave cut into a mountainous protrusion in the forest floor. Jagged stalactites hung lazily from the ceiling giving the cave the appearance of roaring jaws. The group stared at it in amazement for several seconds before Drakja, annoyed, beckoned them to continue.
An intense heat was beginning to build as they neared the yawning cave. Soon, even Drakja was fanning himself. Though the cave was completely open and nothing blocked its entrance, there was also nothing inside . . . Or, at least, nothing they could see in the darkness . . . Dart cocked her head curiously.
"Think we should, like, knock on the wall or something?"
Drakja shrugged. "It's worth a shot . . . Ummei, go knock on the wall,"
Ummei's green eyes widened with fear. "WHAT?!! Why me?!"
"Because you're the omega and you have to do what we tell you!" Dart snapped, shoving Ummei forward. He stumbled and, naturally, tripped over his untied boot lace. He tumbled into the dirt entrance and lay there blinking stupidly for several seconds. Suddenly, a boot came down hard upon his hand. Ummei yelped, closing his eyes as a slicing sound filled the air. There was a soft cackle from above him and when the geonome looked up, his face became filled with dread.
Standing with its boot upon Ummei's hand was a small, cloaked figure lost in the folds of ebony cloth. A pair of black eyes sparkled from beneath the hood, but its face, otherwise, could not be seen. It's teeth flashed white as it smiled and, despite the fact that the person (or whatever it was) was less than five feet tall, it's voice was strong and sinister.
"Don't move your hand, fool, unless you wish to be cut. The bottoms of these boots contain retractable knives . . . Wouldn't want to lose a finger, eh lad?"
Drakja was sure the creature was joking, but when she (as could be determined from the voice) lifted her foot, they saw the glittering, deadly blades. There was a metallic slice and the knives withdrew themselves back into the sole. The creature put her foot down and it's face became lost within the cloak once more.
"I-I take it you're Triss?" Drakja queried, still a bit startled by the girl's sudden appearance. The creature's face turned in his direction and though Drakja couldn't see the eyes, he could feel her piercing gaze upon him.
"Only one creature lives within this forest and that be Triss . . . All others have long since died . . . If you're not talking to Triss, you are talking to a corpse . . ."
All three geonomes gulped. Triss smirked.
"Follow me . . ."
It was difficult to see in the dim shading of the cave, so the geonomes simply allowed the cloaked creature to lead them. She was much different than Drakja had imagined. After all of Garland's warnings, he'd pictured a monstrous beast with glistening fangs and maddened eyes. But instead, all he saw was a young girl, not more than 4'9" in height, who spoke not a word unless spoken to.
The black cloak swished with her every move, sweeping the dusty cave floor as they passed countless cauldrons and bubbling beakers. The heat was becoming more intense and the geonomes could see the throbbing light of the furnace-room where Triss melded her custom-made weapons.
"This room's reserved for the poisons . . ." Triss murmured, not even turning as she addressed her customers. Despite the heat of the room, the odd creature would not lower her hood. Only a few black strands of hair drifted from its frame, obscuring her pale face.
Eventually she stopped and peered into a clear beaker fizzing with a violet liquid atop one of the many crates that lined the walls. As if half- interested in the guests, she queried:
"What have you come to buy?"
Ummei was obviously too scared to speak. Dart, of course, was eager to answer, but Drakja, from experience, held up a hand to silence her.
"We've been sent by Garland," Drakja explained, stiff with the fright he would not admit to. "He claims he has already spoken with you,"
Triss snorted. "Aye, and not spoken a word of what he wants . . . Only what he plans to do . . ."
"Ah, well - " Drakja began to speak once more, but Triss held up an arm, still peering intently at the boiling purple liquid.
"Be quick, fool!" she snarled with a voice much harsher than would be expected of such a small person. "I have limited time!"
Drakja nodded hurriedly, running his fingers through his hair. "Garland requests your silver bullets . . . the ones coated in Momoku . . ."
Triss seemed slightly startled and she rose slowly to peer up at the cowering geonome. Her sharp, black eyes bore straight into his soul, spearing his heart with its piercing gaze.
"Garland requests the Momoku-tama? Hmm . . . Then his plan is more sinister than I thought. What be the target? Quickly, fool!"
Drakja cleared his throat, nodding nervously. "H-he plans to shoot Saishoja's Shishon, Kuja. Or should I say, I must shoot - "
Triss was cackling with glee. "The first Angel of Death? My, my . . . Garland plans to use these on a creature that he ought have killed YEARS ago!"
Drakja shivered. "R-regardless . . . I really must have those bullets . . ."
Triss nodded, still muttering incoherently to herself. "I must get them . . . Delicate, they are. Touch nothing!"
As Triss began to shuffle among the many containers, the geonomes half- listened fearfully to her words.
"The Momoku . . . I say, what a cruel thing Garland plans. My finest poison, aye, my finest . . . Rarely kills, nope. Rarely . . . Not my style, death. What joy is gained lest the victim suffer, eh?" she glanced up at Ummei as she lifted a beaker out from one of the shelves. The omega squirmed under her black stare. Though Triss didn't appear much older than fifteen, she was as frightful as the monsters sent straight from Hell itself. Garland's warnings were starting to seem much more a reality . . .
"Yes, yes, the Momoku . . ." Triss continued. "Once absorbed into the bloodstream it can take hours to show signs of existence . . . aye, I've had test subjects not even realize they were poisoned until stage two . . ." she chuckled as if sharing a private joke with herself. "Yes, stage two . . . The fever. Some victims die of stage two, yes . . . Fevers the likes of which no other poison or disease can bring . . . The victim suffers for one night. One night only. Some die then, yes. Most appear to have died, at least. But at that point, the true purpose of the Momoku is revealed . . ."
"A-and what's that?" Ummei queried.
Triss's black eyes glinted in the gloom of the cave and for a moment they saw the piercing red of her pupils; like a cat's.
"That, only the victims and the witnesses shall know . . ."
A heavy silence descended upon the group. Dart was busy tapping the side of one of the beakers. Unfortunately, the sound of Triss's retractable knives cut the air and she aimed a kick at Dart.
"Touch nothing!"
Dart stepped down obediently, blushing. Ummei was staring nervously at a blood-soaked table and the jar of white orbs sitting atop it. If he hadn't known better he would have said they were sightless eyeballs . . .
"What in the . . .?"
"Get away from there!"
There was the sound of flames and Ummei yelped, enveloped in the pyre that shot from Triss's hand. Drakja and Dart's eyes widened with surprise as Ummei dropped to his knees whimpering. Then the fire vanished with a swoosh and he sat there, completely unscathed. Triss chuckled.
"Fooled ya . . . Ah, here they are! The Momoku-tama! I keep them sealed, see, for they are potent and if any of my . . . test subjects . . . were to get into them it would be a nasty problem . . ."
Triss emerged from beneath a set of crates holding a small box which she opened to reveal a dozen glistening silver bullets.
"Now, these can fit into almost any gun . . ." Triss explained in her quiet, sinister voice. "But let me see your weapon just in case . . ."
Drakja nodded, shivering, and withdrew the large red gun from the sheathe around his belt. When he held it up, Triss let out a strangled cry that seemed to be a screech of surprise, anger, and confusion all muddled into one horrible noise.
"You! Where did you get that gun?!"
Drakja paled, stepping away from the snarling creature hurriedly. "G- Garland gave it to me!"
"G-Garland . . . ?!" Triss spluttered, mimicking Drakja's previous comment. "He trusted you with my most precious creation?!"
Drakja's emerald eyes widened. /So THIS is the inventor of my gun! But this weapon is considered the most dangerous gun on Gaia and Terra! Triss is even more powerful than I thought!/
"Fool, do you even know what it can do?!" Triss growled, stepping up to Drakja and looking angrily into his face. Though Drakja was almost a foot and a half taller than her, he still cowered beneath Triss's glare.
"Y-yes . . . Garland wishes me to use it . . . But not until later . . . It has many functions . . ."
"Yes, scum, I know that! I CREATED it!"
"Oh . . . right . . ."
"Have you ever used it?" Triss queried suspiciously. Drakja blushed, recalling the time he'd nearly used its irreversible effects upon Mikoto.
"O-only once . . . But only because I lost my temper . . ."
"Idiot!" Triss shrieked, kicking Drakja hard in the shin. He stumbled backwards, biting his lip with pain. "That gun is not something you can simply swing around as you wish! It is a calculated, precise weapon! It must be used while the victim is holding still and you must take everything! And you must be able to hold it as well, for if you lose the weapon's contents, they will be lost forever!"
"I-I know . . ."
Suddenly, Triss's lips twisted into a grin. "So who's the lucky victim?"
Drakja, taken-aback, responded: "Well, lots of people . . . But the most important one is Kuja. But first I need to shoot him with those bullets," he pointed at the box Triss was holding. She howled with laughter that seemed to sharply contrast her typically stoic nature.
"Ah, Garland always was the master schemer! I did not realize his plan was so precise . . . and devious. It all makes sense now . . ."
Drakja noted that Triss and Garland seemed to know each other.
"Are you from Terra?" Drakja queried innocently. Triss smirked.
"Of course not . . . Do you honestly think I would bare my name to that doomed rock?" her eyes glittered mischievously, and Drakja realized she was plotting something. "Only fools bare their names to places they are not of . . .".
/Flash/
"S-Saishoja . . . You will be fighting for Shi? B-but you are not of their people! You were not born there!"
"Silence, Drakja! I will decide whom I bare my name to!"
/Flash/
Drakja shook his head, frowning. Triss seemed strangely satisfied.
"Well, take the darn bullets!" she snapped, holding out the box. "Load the gun quickly and get out of here!"
Drakja nodded, taking the box and, one by one, placing each of the bullets into its designated cartridge. Triss watched, smiling beneath her hood.
"I have also heard from Garland," she said softly. "That one of your people will be going to one of the nearby forests to ask of a certain creature to fight for you . . ."
Drakja nodded, silencing Dart and Ummei with a look. "Yes, Chikara is going to a forest a few hundred miles from here to get the monster to attack our enemies . . . I think she's just a distraction so I can shoot the Angel of Death . . ."
Triss shrugged, bored. "I never liked that snow-monster anyways . . ."
"Alright, I'm done," Drakja said, nodding. "Guess we'll be going. Uh . . . thank you . . . I, uh . . . just love what you've done with the cave . . ."
Triss smirked as Drakja beckoned his fellow geonomes out of the cave with him. She watched their retreating forms for several moments and then called out:
"You might want to wash your hands in the snow, fool! You must have touched those poison-coated bullets in every way possible!"
Drakja let out an "eep" of fright and dropped hurriedly into the snow.
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Chikara stared intently at the creature perched above him; gazing placidly at him from a throne of ice.
"So will you help us?" he queried, casually awaiting its answer. The creature's lips cracked into a smile.
"All I have to do is attack this group of people?"
"Yes. You can kill anyone except the silver-haired genome,"
". . . Sounds too easy . . . What's the catch?"
Chikara smiled innocently, folding his arms across his chest. "They are powerful, that is all . . . Distract them while my master works and we will reward you with full ownership of the entire Shimmering Island and all land west of Triss's forest,"
There was a moment of hesitation before a delicate, tinkling laugh.
"I'd do it for half that . . ."
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A/N: GAH! Long chapter! They just . . . keep getting . . . longer . . . But who cares?! I like writing this fic! It's fun! So now we know the creator of Drakja's gun. Hint: it's important! Um . . . What was I gonna say? Oh yeah! Apparently ThunDaga knows what Momoku means, and so I have another little hint for him/her (sorry, but it's hard to tell with aliases, ya know?) Here's the hint (this is for her! Everyone else, back off! *hiss*): if you've seen the Kingdom Hearts Deep Dive video (or you can find screen shots of it on the internet) and you saw the "new" Riku, then you can figure out the purpose of the poison AND a few other hints I've made about other characters. Put two and two together and you might see it . . . I'll admit, Riku was an inspiration for part of the plot (he's so cute, isn't he? He TOTALLY looks like a fifteen year old Kuja). As for everyone else, I'll explain what I'm talking about around . . . chapter thirty-two- ish.
Rompyou! Rompyou! *whimpers* reviews please?