OK, here's the thing. I know this has been boring lately, and I'm sorry. I wasn't spending so much time on this whole thing because I thought it was interesting, its just that… well, I tried to do something, and ended up writing myself into a pit, and all my efforts to get out only got me in deeper. One of the perils of posting as you write, I guess. So, I decided that this just wasn't working, and I needed to rewrite this chapter and make an effort to leave the whole mess behind with the smallest amount of embarrassment possible. If you happened to read chapter 7 while it was still Celes in the world of dreams, just forget that, because it officially never happened. And, yeah, I know the first half of this chapter (at least) really stinks. This will get better again shortly, I promise, I've just hit a sort of rough spot that I need to get past.

I hope this isn't still too slow. I'm trying, it's just that I tend to get caught up in the details.

Chapter 7: On the Road Again

ooo

You said to me,

"I cannot make you happy,

Like a wounded bird,

You must find the strength to fly"

And time can paint the treetops

With colors of the rainbow

But you cannot find the end,

No matter how you try

Kate Wolf, Unfinished Life

ooo

Terra could not be certain how long she lingered in the fever-clouded grip of dark dreams and darker memories before at last her isolation was broken by a stranger's touch. Before she could muster her defenses or lash out, the other was beside her, soft as a shadow and gentle as a spring rain. The stranger was a pillar of strength, a guide through the dark, a guardian spirit with the keys to every door… a cool, invisible presence leading her through the maze of her spinning thoughts, free of the cage of fear, and back at last to the realms of daylight…

The transition from dream to waking was gradual, like the blending of shades in a watercolor painting, one state fading gently into another. It was the voices she became aware of first, hushed and urgent, hovering on the barest edge of perception.

"She's definitely waking up, kupo…" This first voice was high and thin, an elderly voice, with the certainty that goes with command.

"Think she'll be all right?" said another, a younger male voice with a ragged note of exhaustion. It was a voice that seemed almost familiar, for some reason, and one she found it hard not to trust.

"At the moment, I'm more worried about us. Stay back, kupo, you don't want to scare her…"

The voices were distant and muted, as though she was hearing them from beneath a vast expanse of water… and then she was swimming upward, through the oceanic darkness, to reach the source of light and sound, until at last she broke the surface of consciousness. She sat up and opened her eyes in one smooth movement, one hand grasping reflexively for the sword that should have been at her side even as she took in the details of the scene before her.

She was in a cave, but a comfortable one, strewn with sleeping mats and bright cushions, well lit by floating globes that burned with the distinct glow of magic. Three other figures were in the room, sitting a few feet away and watching her anxiously. The first was a small, white-furred creature, festooned with beads and feathers and clutching a gnarled wooden staff twice his own height. The creature was in many ways a strange mixture of cute and ridiculous, but he held himself with a sort of calm dignity, and Terra found herself inclined to take him seriously.

Beside him was a thin, wiry human youth, watching her with owlish eyes. She guessed this man to be the owner of the tired voice; he certainly looked as though he could do with a few hours rest and a good meal. His face was pale and drawn, with dark circles beneath his blue eyes, and his clothes were travel-worn, torn and dusty. He was dressed for the road, in a frayed jacket, sturdy trousers and boots, with a bandanna to hold back his dust-colored hair and twin daggers stuck through a belt at his waist. When he saw her examining him, he offered up a tired, worried smile, but said nothing.

The third and final occupant of the cave looked to be a member of the same species as the first, but much younger and obviously trying to hide both fear and fascination. He hung around the edges of the small group, peering at her from what he seemed to think was a safe distance, his dark eyes completely inscrutable.

"Who are you," Terra asked quietly, "and how did I get here?" The last thing she could remember clearly was falling, the rush of wind in her ears and darkness surrounding her. There were vague impressions of nightmares and dim memories, but nothing solid, nothing she could make sense of.

The tired man was the first to answer. "I'm Locke Cole. Arvis sent me to help you… you know, the old guy?"

Terra nodded. Arvis was a name she recognized, a name she could trust… an old man in a snowy village, fighting off soldiers for her sake… a good man. Had he promised to send help? It didn't matter, really. She was lost and, apparently, hunted in a world she knew nothing of. She would have to trust someone eventually.

"These are Kumo and Mog," he continued, gesturing at his two companions. "They tried to heal you, and, I guess, succeeded."

"Heal me?"

"You were in a pretty bad state when I found you… unconscious and feverish. Look, how much do you remember?"

Terra sighed. "I remember waking up in Arvis's house, and fleeing from the soldiers. There was a cave-in, and I fell. But..." I have to tell him. He'll find out eventually anyway. I have to trust someone, why not him? "But before all that... I don't remember anything, past or present. All I know is my name."

Locke frowned, running a gloved hand through his raggedly cut hair. "You have amnesia?" He didn't sound surprised, just resigned.

She nodded again, slowly. The young treasure hunter tried another reassuring smile, then looked down as she met his eyes and didn't smile back. He appeared to be trying not to inch backward, though Terra had to admit he was holding his ground admirably. I seem to have... quite an effect on people, she thought with bitter amusement. Arvis had been frightened too; they both hid it well, the old man with gruffness and Locke with rather desperate attempts at kindness, but neither hid it completely. What am I, that I should frighten people like this?

"Arvis said that my memory would return, in time." She said quietly, not because she thought he needed to know, but simply because the silence was suddenly too complete, too oppressive. She was sick of being feared; she knew she was dangerous, knew exactly what she was capable of doing, but… She liked this Locke Cole. It was difficult not to. And she wanted him to see her as a person, not a… not a killer. Even if that's what I am.

"Yeah." Another weary, nervous smile on his part. This time she tried to smile back. "You just have to give it time. And until then, I…" his voice was suddenly very serious, almost solemn, "I'll stay with you. I promise. You'll be safe with me."

Part of her was almost angry at the idea that he thought he would keep her safe. She was hardly defenseless, certainly not some weakling to be rescued; trusting her fate to another seemed too much like surrendering her freedom, and at the moment freedom was really all she had. I don't need your protection, she wanted to tell him, and I don't want your pity. Or your fear. And yet…

She smiled as gently as she could. "Thanks."

ooo

They spent the night in that cave, as Locke was in desperate need of sleep. Terra, not tired at all, spent her time thinking and speaking quietly to the moogles, as she learned they were called. Most of them seemed to view her with a sort of silent awe, though none seemed willing to say why. Still, the creatures were more than willing to speak of moogle history and the nature of the caverns themselves, which were evidently far older than both the mines of Narshe and the moogles themselves. She also learned that "treasure hunter" was a euphemism for thief, and that it would not be a good idea to let on to Locke that she knew it. Fascinating subjects, but not, at the moment, particularly useful... Everything she really wanted to know – about the Empire, and the attack on the city – seemed to be things that the moogles couldn't be bothered to care about. They seemed content to leave human politics alone, even when those politics turned explosive, and so Terra learned precious little of real importance.

When morning came – or rather, when as soon as Locke was rested enough to think straight, as there was really no way to determine morning or night deep underground – Terra was still fresh and ready for the road.After saying their goodbyes to the moogles, and after a bland but filling breakfast of travel rations from Locke's pack, they left the safe and brightly lit caverns behind and set out once more into the old mines. Locke fumbled briefly in his pack for a lantern, before Terra smiled and shook her head, creating again the globe of fire that she had used to light her way before. The thief stared blankly for a moment, but recovered quickly enough, answering her appraising glance with a grin and a shrug.

"Useful," he said with a wry grin, "Stick with me, kid, and I'll never have to struggle with a campfire again."

So magic itself doesn't frighten him. That was good to know, especially since he would undoubtedly be seeing much more of it, and not just the sort used to light campfires. According to the moogles, there were... creatures in these caves, and some of them could be distinctly dangerous.

Locke led her onward through a dizzying maze of winding tunnels, moving with speed and assurance. Each twist and turn seemed to Terra practically indistinguishable from the next, and she knew that without a guide she would have already been hopelessly lost, but the thief seemed to know exactly where he was going. They moved through the caves with hushed vigilance, the only sounds the echoes of their footfalls and the hollow dripping of water somewhere in the distance. Outside the flickering radius of light cast by her fire-globe, the darkness was thick and velvet, and Terra found herself looking back with longing on the bright and comfortable caves they had left... how long ago? It seems like forever...

After a time, she became aware that the ground was sloping gradually upward beneath her feet, and there were even times when she imagined she felt a fresh, cool breeze across her face. She thought they might be drawing closer to the surface, and that realization sparked in her a sudden desire to get out from these endless tunnels, a hunger for open space and natural light. There was something in her that hated the claustrophobic darkness and stale air; she felt like an animal in a cage. Before, it had been endurable, if unpleasant. Now, with these tantalizing hints of freedom and fresh air, it took all her willpower to keep herself focused and in control. There was still a part of her that wanted to scream and claw at the bars of her prison, to let loose with fire and blade, anger and fear given form; she suspected that part of her would always exist, but now it was uncomfortably close to the surface. I need to get out of here... the thought echoed and repeated in her mind, I need to get OUT!

At last, as the gentle slope of the ground evened out and the walls widened and straightened, beginning to look more as though they were carved by human hand and less by eons of running water, Locke stopped. He was standing before what looked to Terra to be the natural end to a long abandoned tunnel, peering at the wall with a measured and critical gaze.She groaned inwardly. A wrong turn, a dead end? Had the thief gotten them lost? I'm not sure how much longer I can stand this... Locke had been so confidant, so assured, navigating the tunnels like he owned them... and, she realized, he didn't look lost now, either. Indeed, when he beckoned her closer, he was wearing a curiously eager smile, like a child about to show off a trick.

"Watch this," he said, turning to a roughly chiseled rock face near the tunnel's end. He ran his hands over the unevenly cut stone, searching and probing, occasionally muttering something unintelligable under his breath. At last, with a whispered "ah-ha!," he pressed down and inward against a small protrusion, which shifted suddenly under his hands. Terra thought she heard a muffled click, a small, definite noise swallowed up almost immediately by the grinding rumble of stone against stone. An entire section of the tunnel shifted and groaned and swung outwards, revealing an icy and barren field. Wind and cleansing cold swept into the cave, and Terra let her sphere of flame vanish in the pristine morning light as she stepped forward, lifting her face and arms to the wind as if in benediction. Free... I'm free! She took a deep breath, th air clear and brittle with a winter sharpness, and realized that she was laughing quietly in wild joy.

Locke stepped up beside her, his sudden and unannounced presence sending her hand reflexively to her sword hilt before she realized who it had to be, her exultation killed by the instinctive jolt of fear and battle-readiness. She would have to remind him not to sneak up on her. She didn't want to hurt him, and knew with stark clarity that given the right circumstances she was very capable of doing so. Killing came all too easily to her, though she hated the idea of it, and her control over her powers and, yes, her moods, was much more tenuous than she would have liked to admit. She would have to remind him to be careful.

"Not many people know about this passage. The Narshe certainly don't, and it's practically on their doorstep. Remember it -- you never know when a secret passage might come in handy. This one saved my life once... say, do you need a jacket?"

Terra hadn't even thought about that, and now that she came to consider it, she found that she didn't. It was cold, but somehow, even with her thin clothing and bare arms, she found the temperature almost pleasant. Her breath puffed out before her in clouds of mist, but she stood easily in the ankle-deep snow, not so much as shivering.

"I think I'll be fine... thank you." She meant it. She suspected that Locke had been prepared to give her his own coat, a fact that she found unexpectedly... touching.

"Yeah," he said weakly, "I... I expect you will." He looked out across the snowy plains, seeming to regain his confidence and direction, then turned back to her.

"It will be open ground around here for a while," he said to her, "So I'd like to try and get through it as quickly as possible. I highly doubt we're being followed at this point, but even so I won't feel safe until we've got some cover. Thief's instincts there, I guess..."

"You mean treasure hunter?" Terra responded, a teasing note in her voice.

Locke laughed out loud. "Yeah. Right, yeah, that's what I said. Now lets go. I want to see how many miles we can make before dark."

ooo

Sitting by the campfire that night, exhausted silence reigned. The girl -- Terra, thought Locke, it suits her -- was staring moodily into the dancing flames, seemingly oblivious to both the warmth they offered and the withering cold of the night. He wondered what thoughts were hiding behind that impassive face, those fierce, wild eyes. A full day traveling with the girl hadn't made her any less of a mystery. Instead it had merely opened Locke's eyes to the remarkable number of peculiarities and contradictions she seemed to harbor. She was volatile, mercurial in temperament and mood, a creature of sharp and deadly purity... and she was a lost girl, lonely and, in her own way, vulnerable.

There were moments, sudden and fleeting as a spring rain, when she seemed almost childlike, almost literally radiating innocence and a deep desire to be accepted, an eagerness to please that left Locke feeling uncomfortable and out of place. Then those moments passed, leaving her frigid and unreadable as a stone wall, or even suspicious and dangerous. She seldom talked -- her shy joke about the treasure hunter had been startling in its incongruity -- and there were moments that she seemed to retreat into herself, lost inside the vastness of her own thoughts. Locke got the distinct impression that these moments were when she was most dangerous of all.

There had been a few times during the day when they had encountered what Locke called "less than friendly examples of local wildlife," but those battles had been ended remarkably quickly. Terra fought with a frightening intensity, dispatching enemies with a lithe, feral grace or simply burning them to ash where they stood. Despite what Locke believed was a true innocence, she seemed to have a deep well of violence in her, and Locke found himself increasingly grateful that she seemed to have taken kindly to him.

The thief leaned back, stretching aching muscles and joints. They had traveled practically without rest that day, taking breaks only to eat or when they absolutely couldn't force themselves to continue. He was honestly surprised at the progress they had made -- the girl really did look frail, and he had expected her to give out after a few miles. Instead she had matched him step for step, mile for mile, neither complaining nor faltering. Obviously, whatever her life in the Empire had been like, it hadn't been soft.

"So where are we going?" Terra's voice was soft as always, equal parts silk and steel. Locke poked at the fire absently with a stick, trying to think of what to say.

"Figaro Castle," he answered finally, "still some miles to the south. We'll be meeting up with a friend of mine named Edgar, then I'll guess we'll decide what to do from there." He sighed, stretching his arms over his head. "You ought to get some rest, its going to be another hard day tomorrow. I'll take first watch."

ooo

And it was another hard day as was the one after that. They kept up a sharp pace, day after day, as the snow receded and frozen plains gave way to rolling hills, then finally to sparse, barren scrubland. Oak and evergreen were replaced by sage and other plants of the dry country. It wasn't easy going, but although Terra could still remember no more of her old life than fleeting impressions and vague nightmares, she had the distinct feeling that these were the happiest days she had yet known. The empty spaces in her mind were being filled with new memories, memories of Locke whistling some trail-song or showing her the patterns in the stars, memories of companionship and freedom. Her own fear and the sudden anger that still took her at times were distant companions now, still walking beside her but no longer filling her every moment.

At last, they crested one last rise in a spine of harsh, rocky cliffs, and found themselves looking out over the edge into what was no longer dryland but pure desert, empty and white. Rising from the middle of the sand-blown dunes was a great structure of stone and steel, towers rising from the sand in a loose circle around one main hall. The desert air was clear and thin, rendering the sight sharp and definite even at such a distance, and Terra had to admit the view was impressive.

"Is that...?" she whispered.

"Yep," Locke said with a grin, "Figaro castle. Almost there."