Prologue: The Day of Darkness
The Dark One watched, entranced, as the one bearing the sword dealt a fatal blow to is greatest creation. The floor began to tremble, the walls shaking with something far worse than an earthquake. How ironic, he thought, losing to a shadow of a sword that comes of me. But that was far behind him. All that mattered now was survival. Survival and the work of the Shadow.
And survive he would. The Light Warriors seemed not to consider him a threat, instead worrying about getting out of here alive, before reality itself collapsed around them. Something he would do well to concern himself with also.
He would show them. They would regret not taking the time to finish him. His eternal hatred for the Light fumed within him, and he grasped at the twisting magical energies all around him, trying to hold off the inevitable annihilation just long enough to escape to another realm.
There was a great popping sound, and the Dark One ceased to be in this doomed place. An instant later, this place ceased to be, as well.
After Zeromus's defeat, the monsters under his influence had all but vanished. Life had returned to the ordinary routine of kingdom life, and Cecil had hung the crystalline Ragnarok sword and its corresponding lunar Crystal armor on the throne room wall, and never taken them down.
Until last week. More suddenly than they had appeared three years ago, the monsters were back, causing terror all over Baron's territory. And it wasn't just Baron; the airships brought reports from Eblan, Toroia, Fabul, and Mysidia that the monsters were back, stronger if anything than they had been before the downfall of Zeromus. Even the dwarven kingdom was reporting dangerous levels of monster activity, so much so that they were asking for help from the Ninjas of Eblan, which the proud dwarves had never done before.
And the worst part was that they didn't know why. Rosa wondered for the millionth time if Zeromus had somehow revived. All she had to do to realize that evil had not left the hearts of men was spend a few hours in the Great Hall watching Cecil give audience to the peasants and attempt to resolve their disputes. But the second moon had left their world behind three years ago, going she-knew-not-where, and whatever was left of Zeromus would be there, too far away by now (she hoped) to exert an influence on their peaceful world.
And to top it all, Cecil had headed out into all of this, saying he had to get to the root of it all. He promised he'd be back by nightfall, (which was more than an hour ago,) and told her, not as her king nor as her husband, but simply as one who loved her more than his life itself, not to leave the castle under any circumstances. Then he had retrieved his crystalline gear and walked out into the storm, as it were.
And he hadn't come back. Rosa was still worried. What if he had been overwhelmed? She was still regarded as the greatest white mage in the world, but she had kept in practice, healing the wounded, the sick and afflicted of Baron every opportunity that presented itself. But Cecil had barely had time to leave the castle, much less continue the grueling continuous training that was required to keep a knight in shape, and she was concerned that he was no longer the mighty warrior that he had been three years ago, nor had he done anything to improve his extremely-limited White magic.
Resolving to find him that night, either alive or to rejoin him on the Other Side, she retrieved her bow, arrows, and protective robes from the secret place where she had stored them. This was, for her also, the first time she had equipped herself like this in three years. She headed for the castle gates, and as she walked through the space between the inner and outer walls, she heard armored feet crossing the drawbridge.
Quickly pulling the mechanism that opened the heavy wooden gates, she saw Cecil stumble inside, wounded and bleeding but not severely, but obviously exhausted. Before he even noticed her, she flooded him with the gentle caress of her healing magic, restoring his strength ever so slightly.
He looked up, and fire flashed in his usually-tender eyes. "Where were you going dressed like that, Rosa?" he demanded. "I told you not to leave the castle." But seeing the hurt look on her face, he softened and said "and I also said I'd be back by sundown. I'm sorry." He almost whispered the last two words, and stuck his sword in the ground to lean heavily upon it.
Rosa ran to him, enfolding him in her embrace. "You're exhausted," she said, placing his arm around her shoulders for support, forcing her also-weary body not to buckle under the weight of her heavily-armored husband. (A little bit too much weight, the thought flashed across her mind. He really does need to get a bit more exercise, or am I just exhausted enough from worrying that I'm growing weak?) She helped him up to their room and out of his armor, then most of his clothing as well, and laid him on the bed to begin examining his wounds. Her magic had been a quick job only, mostly to stop the bleeding, until she could get him into a more tranquil environment for treatment. Fortunately, it was nothing severe, but the fact that he was wounded at all, especially in that armor, concerned her. The monsters really *were* stronger than before. She cast a couple of light healing spells, but the drain just made her even more tired, and Cecil was already asleep, and seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
She decided that he was in stable enough condition that further healing could wait until tomorrow. Removing her weapons and armor and extinguishing the torch that lighted the room, she joined him in bed and was almost asleep before she could pull a heavy blanket over the two of them to keep the cold out.
Somewhere in the fuzzy state halfway between dreams and consciousness, Rosa reached her arm out across Cecil's chest. This state vanished very quickly, replaced by adrenaline-filled consciousness, when no chest presented itself to her touch and her arm went over the side of the bed. She looked around and realized that she was not in her bed, or even her room anymore, but in some sort of inn. And there was Cecil in a bed across the room. She rolled out of bed and shook him. "Cecil!" she whispered loudly.
He looked up at her and grinned. "Nice to see you, too." Then his grin was replaced by a frown as he noticed the unfamiliar scenery. "Where are we?"
"I don't know. You don't know?"
"I don't recognize this inn. If it *is* an inn." He rolled out of bed as well, and Rosa noticed, somewhat belatedly, that they were both fully clothed, in peasants' traveling clothing. Their armor and weapons were nowhere in sight.
Cecil realized this too and walked out into the common room. He stomped up to the innkeeper angrily and asked where they were.
"So you's awake, then?" asked the innkeeper, seemingly unaware of the danger he was in. "This is the Galaar Inn, and I was wondering if you two would ever wake up. It's past lunchtime, you know."
"No, I didn't. I know less than you seem to. How did we come to be here?"
"A man brought you in, almost midnight it was. You were both pale and looked like you hadn't slept good since the monsters came back. You especially was all cut up. He said he found you on the highway, beaten by monsters and left for dead. He had a bit of skill in the Healing Arts, but had to leave you here to recover. Paid your night's stay and all." He looked at the incredulous expression on Cecil's face and said, "I know, strange, isn't it. I's only saying what I heard. Good man, though. He even brought your trunk in, said to keep it for you."
"Trunk?" Cecil asked.
"The one you'd apparently been fighting to protect. You two some sort of merchant team?" He disappeared into one of the rooms and returned, dragging a large and obviously heavy trunk.
"No, I'm Cecil, King of Baron, and this is my wife Rosa, and I don't know how we got here or why." He walked over to see what was in the strange trunk.
The man squinted at them, clearly wondering why they looked like anything but royalty. "You sure you didn't get hit on the he--" he stopped as he saw what was inside the trunk. Cecil and Rosa's armor and weapons, including a shimmering crystal sword fit for a king. "Well, I must say I don't know what's going here, and never heard of no Kingdom of Baron neither, but that's the finest sword I ever did see. I don't think even the king gots a sword that nice."
"King?" asked Rosa.
"Yeah. King Rolan of Galaar." He frowned. "Now don't tell me you's never heard of him."
"No more than you have heard of me or Baron, it would seem." replied Cecil. It was rapidly becoming clear that they would not get any useful information from this innkeeper, so they hurriedly donned their armor and said goodbye, walking out to see what kind of place Galaar was.
Yes, I know I said I'd have Reunion out "soon" and that was three years ago, but I've been extremely busy with real life stuff, including serving for two years as a missionary for my church. But now this long-delayed fanfic will begin in earnest. As I have implied before, this is to be something of a crossover, involving elements of FF1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and FFT, although not exactly as you might think. I'd add more in, but I haven't had time to play the others yet, so this is what I have planned so far.
Any questions or comments on Reunion or any of my other work can reach me at masonwheeler "at" yahoo "dot" com. (Just to thwart spam address-seeker programs.) My old email is no longer valid; use this one. Anyone who wants to post a copy of this on their own site is welcome to do so; just please email me and let me know about it.
More is soon to come.
Mason Wheeler