Chapter 1
Jitan awoke to the sound of the sea. He tried to open his eyes, but the sun's harsh glare forced him to keep them shut. He breathed in the smell of fresh air and once again tried to open his eyes.
Judging by the sun's position, it was late morning, and his stomach was already reminding him that it hadn't been fed for quite some time; which made him wonder how long he'd been here—wherever here was. That made him think. 'What exactly had happened back at the Ifa tree while he'd been with Kuja?' He blinked. 'Kuja?!'
He sat up with a jolt and rubbed his eyes and frantically scanned the beach for his brother. He didn't have to look far; he saw Kuja's slim form just a couple of yards away from where he sat.
Jitan forced his stiff legs to stand up. He immediately regretted the motion as his head started pounding from the hours he'd lain under the sun on the beach. He stood in place for a moment to clear his head then quickly stumbled over to where Kuja lied.
As Jitan sat next to his brother, his eyes roamed over his bruised and blood-spattered body. He could barely confirm the slight up and down motion of Kuja's chest as it struggled to keep breathing. Jitan continued to sit there watching Kuja; he didn't know what else to do. Should he wake him, and find out if his mind was still intact? Or should he let him rest, giving both mind and body time to recover? There was no doubt that Kuja needed immediate medical attention, but he had no idea where Kuja's spell had transported them, so there was no way of knowing where help was. He needed to find someone that could help, or at least give them directions.
Well, at any rate, he needed to get Kuja out of the sun before the mid-day rays became unbearable. He stood up and wondered if it would be better to drag Kuja or carry him; dragging wouldn't jostle him as much, but carrying him seemed to be the quickest and safest way—therefore the best way. Jitan knelt back down and very carefully scooped up Kuja in his arms and slowly stood up. Kuja managed to moan a little, but didn't wake up, so Jitan began walking towards the looming trees at the edge of the beach. He laid Kuja down, propping him up against the trunk of a tree. He thought about removing Kuja's tattered clothes to check for injuries, but decided against it for the time being; he needed to construct a shelter of some sorts, or find a cave so that Kuja could rest while he looked for help.
Before leaving in search of a shelter, Jitan ripped off a piece of his clothing and placed it in his brother's lifeless hand to assure him it was safe in case he woke up before Jitan got back. After one more glance at Kuja's sleeping form, Jitan began looking for some shelter—or help, if it came his way.
* * * * *
Kuja's mind was trapped. He'd completely exhausted every drop of energy and magic he had. And now...now he wondered if he was dead or alive. Perhaps he was neither, but just drifting in limbo—that peculiar place between Heaven and Hades. Did that mean he was a ghost? A wondering spirit that has no home to go to and travels in search of a meaning for eternity? Surely not, he'd had a purpose in life, and it was to be remembered. He did not want to leave this world without leaving his mark, but....he'd done that, hadn't he? All of the lives he'd destroyed and touched; surely that was quite a mark to behold. 'But was it enough,' he thought.
All these thoughts and memories tugged and pulled at his mind, threatening to tear down his inner barriers and leave him empty and confused. He decided to concentrate on the now. What had happened to him? He decided to take a mental check of his inner self.
Kuja floated up from his core and checked his memories. They were all there, the good and the bad—though they got a little fuzzy around the edges when he tried to recollect what had happened after his defeat in the Ifa tree. He shrugged and went on up to his abilities. They were intact, too—Garland had made sure of that. He grimaced at the thought of his old master and continued checking for anything amiss. Next were his spells and mana reservoirs. They were completely gone. Kuja was temporarily taken aback. 'What happened to my magic?' He'd expected his reservoirs to be used up, so that was no surprise, but where had the abilities to perform the spells gone? He frantically raked his brain for the knowledge to cast his magics, but they were nowhere to be found. He started to panic. Magic was all he knew; what was he supposed to do if he couldn't cast magic? He shuddered at the thought.
He'd almost given up searching for his lost spells when he caught a feint glimmer of something in the back of his mind. He floated over to it and gently brushed against it. It was white magic. It'd been so long since he'd used it, he almost didn't recognize it. 'Heh. So it came to this....' he thought bitterly. 'Now I'm not even a worthy opponent for one of those worthless puppet mages.' He despised the thought of only being able to cast white magic, but it was still magic; and at least he could still call himself a mage.
Now that Kuja had an idea of where he stood in his inner-self, it was time to see what had become of his physical-self. He slowly began ascending up from his self towards the surface of his mind, where his inner-self joined with the outer shell that was his body. As he neared the edge that divided the two, he started to feel himself getting heavy. He was becoming solid, and every single limb felt like lead-weight that would take a miracle to lift. As he gained feeling, his mind was overloaded with his body's cries of pain from head-to-toe. It was almost unbearable; he wanted to spiral back down to his core where it was safe and numb. 'No', he hissed. 'I'm no coward; I can take this.' He reached for the surface, 'I will overcome my pain.'
Jitan awoke to the sound of the sea. He tried to open his eyes, but the sun's harsh glare forced him to keep them shut. He breathed in the smell of fresh air and once again tried to open his eyes.
Judging by the sun's position, it was late morning, and his stomach was already reminding him that it hadn't been fed for quite some time; which made him wonder how long he'd been here—wherever here was. That made him think. 'What exactly had happened back at the Ifa tree while he'd been with Kuja?' He blinked. 'Kuja?!'
He sat up with a jolt and rubbed his eyes and frantically scanned the beach for his brother. He didn't have to look far; he saw Kuja's slim form just a couple of yards away from where he sat.
Jitan forced his stiff legs to stand up. He immediately regretted the motion as his head started pounding from the hours he'd lain under the sun on the beach. He stood in place for a moment to clear his head then quickly stumbled over to where Kuja lied.
As Jitan sat next to his brother, his eyes roamed over his bruised and blood-spattered body. He could barely confirm the slight up and down motion of Kuja's chest as it struggled to keep breathing. Jitan continued to sit there watching Kuja; he didn't know what else to do. Should he wake him, and find out if his mind was still intact? Or should he let him rest, giving both mind and body time to recover? There was no doubt that Kuja needed immediate medical attention, but he had no idea where Kuja's spell had transported them, so there was no way of knowing where help was. He needed to find someone that could help, or at least give them directions.
Well, at any rate, he needed to get Kuja out of the sun before the mid-day rays became unbearable. He stood up and wondered if it would be better to drag Kuja or carry him; dragging wouldn't jostle him as much, but carrying him seemed to be the quickest and safest way—therefore the best way. Jitan knelt back down and very carefully scooped up Kuja in his arms and slowly stood up. Kuja managed to moan a little, but didn't wake up, so Jitan began walking towards the looming trees at the edge of the beach. He laid Kuja down, propping him up against the trunk of a tree. He thought about removing Kuja's tattered clothes to check for injuries, but decided against it for the time being; he needed to construct a shelter of some sorts, or find a cave so that Kuja could rest while he looked for help.
Before leaving in search of a shelter, Jitan ripped off a piece of his clothing and placed it in his brother's lifeless hand to assure him it was safe in case he woke up before Jitan got back. After one more glance at Kuja's sleeping form, Jitan began looking for some shelter—or help, if it came his way.
* * * * *
Kuja's mind was trapped. He'd completely exhausted every drop of energy and magic he had. And now...now he wondered if he was dead or alive. Perhaps he was neither, but just drifting in limbo—that peculiar place between Heaven and Hades. Did that mean he was a ghost? A wondering spirit that has no home to go to and travels in search of a meaning for eternity? Surely not, he'd had a purpose in life, and it was to be remembered. He did not want to leave this world without leaving his mark, but....he'd done that, hadn't he? All of the lives he'd destroyed and touched; surely that was quite a mark to behold. 'But was it enough,' he thought.
All these thoughts and memories tugged and pulled at his mind, threatening to tear down his inner barriers and leave him empty and confused. He decided to concentrate on the now. What had happened to him? He decided to take a mental check of his inner self.
Kuja floated up from his core and checked his memories. They were all there, the good and the bad—though they got a little fuzzy around the edges when he tried to recollect what had happened after his defeat in the Ifa tree. He shrugged and went on up to his abilities. They were intact, too—Garland had made sure of that. He grimaced at the thought of his old master and continued checking for anything amiss. Next were his spells and mana reservoirs. They were completely gone. Kuja was temporarily taken aback. 'What happened to my magic?' He'd expected his reservoirs to be used up, so that was no surprise, but where had the abilities to perform the spells gone? He frantically raked his brain for the knowledge to cast his magics, but they were nowhere to be found. He started to panic. Magic was all he knew; what was he supposed to do if he couldn't cast magic? He shuddered at the thought.
He'd almost given up searching for his lost spells when he caught a feint glimmer of something in the back of his mind. He floated over to it and gently brushed against it. It was white magic. It'd been so long since he'd used it, he almost didn't recognize it. 'Heh. So it came to this....' he thought bitterly. 'Now I'm not even a worthy opponent for one of those worthless puppet mages.' He despised the thought of only being able to cast white magic, but it was still magic; and at least he could still call himself a mage.
Now that Kuja had an idea of where he stood in his inner-self, it was time to see what had become of his physical-self. He slowly began ascending up from his self towards the surface of his mind, where his inner-self joined with the outer shell that was his body. As he neared the edge that divided the two, he started to feel himself getting heavy. He was becoming solid, and every single limb felt like lead-weight that would take a miracle to lift. As he gained feeling, his mind was overloaded with his body's cries of pain from head-to-toe. It was almost unbearable; he wanted to spiral back down to his core where it was safe and numb. 'No', he hissed. 'I'm no coward; I can take this.' He reached for the surface, 'I will overcome my pain.'
