Split Ends

 Introduction: I'm very glad you like the story so far! Here's the next chapter, in which I'll reveal the plotline a little more. By the way, is there a FFTA section?? I've checked, but I haven't seen one. If there is I will gladly move the story there… or to a FFTA website maybe.

Italics- thoughts, memories, etc Bold- actions, important stuff

II
*****

     "Marche…" Ritz touched his shoulder for him to stop. "Marche, look."

 He glanced over in the direction she had indicated, and immediately saw it. "Shara?"

   "You… you see her too? It's not just my imagination then?"

    Marche stared in disbelief. There was no mistaking it; a living, breathing Shara was wandering the streets of St. Ivalice, limping and looking extremely confused. "But…"

   Ritz was off in an instant. "Shara!"

   "Ritz wait!"

 Shara glanced up wearily and spotted her. "Ritz?"

    Ritz broke into a run as she dashed toward the street, straight into traffic. "Shara!"

  Marche gasped and tore after her. "Ritz no!"

      Just as her feet had clobbered onto the cold street, a cab had turned the corner at a dangerous speed. Ritz was right in the way as the cab driver slammed on the brakes, the car spinning out of control. "Ritz!" Marche stepped into the street, but a concerned passerby held him back. "Wait!"

   Shara grabbed Ritz, who had frozen like a deer blinded by head lights, and dodged the car as it spun and just barely grazed the street pole before the driver regained control. She was shaking in Shara's arms as the viera held her close, breathing deeply. "Are you all right?"

   Ritz gulped. "Yes…"

 Shara smiled, "It's nice to see you again…" Ritz beamed at her.

  Marche galloped over to them. "Are you two ok?" He held out his hand to them, "I'll help you up."

   Ritz got up by herself, brushing the snow off her. It was then she noticed something. The snow was dappled a scarlet color in Shara's general area.

   Shara stumbled to her feet, but her legs gave in and she sunk to the icy sidewalk again. "Ah…"

   They were upon her almost immediately. "Shara?! What happened?"

 Ritz stared at her viera friend, spotting the problem instantly. Deep cuts were on her left leg, carelessly bandaged with what looked to be a piece of Shara's skirt. "Shara…"

   She gazed up at Ritz. "It's all right, just a few scratches. I'll be fine."

 "You can't walk," Marche frowned, lifting one of her arms around his neck. "Ritz?"

  Ritz fell to Shara's side, picking up her other arm. Together the two lifted Shara to her feet; she was very light. "Come on, let's go to Mewt's, Cid can help us."

    "Thank you…" Shara murmured, smiling softly before she lost consciousness. 

      Mewt sat on his bed, watching the snow fall gently outside. It was warm in his bedroom for Cid had installed a good heater. His father was a bit more careful with Mewt, no longer the neglecting father he had once been. He smiled; he was glad to have his dad back.

    He sighed, his fingers skimming over his bear. The boys at school no longer made fun of him, partly because Ritz threatened to pound them if they so much as whispered a word about him. But it was also due in part because they were surprised that he and Marche had stood up for themselves. However, he had not brought his bear to school since.

   "Mewt!" Cid called from downstairs. "You're friends are here! Oh…!"

 He frowned. What had the 'oh' been for? He opened his bedroom door and found three people at his door. Or rather two humans, and an unconscious viera. His eyes widened. "Marche? Ritz? What the-

    "No time Mewt," Ritz pushed her way into the room, speckling scarlet blood all over. She held the unconscious viera in her arms as she tried to figure out where to put her. "She's lost a lot of blood. Do you have a futon or something we can use?"

    Mewt nodded. Without another word he left the room, knowing all too well that this was too serious for questions.

    Marche sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. That turned out to be a stupid thing to do, because he had been drenched in blood earlier from taking turns carrying Shara. His hands were wet with her blood, so naturally he got some of the blood in his blond hair.

   Ritz smiled at him, her eyes laughing at his hair. He grinned sheepishly, but as he did, the laughter in her eyes went out like a light. She seemed to have realized something. Her eyes grew cold, and she turned back to Shara. "Ritz…?"

   Mewt heaved the futon in at that moment, and tossed it on the ground at the foot of his bed. Without a word she laid Shara on the futon, pulling off her coat to cover her with. Mewt nodded to her, "Dad's coming up with the first aid kit."

    Marche was silent, standing in the corner of the room. Something was wrong. Shara's appearance, plus Llednar's, could only mean one thing: Ivalice still existed… and Remedi may still be alive. "Mewt?"

     Mewt received the first aid kit from his father and was currently bandaging Shara's leg. "What?"

  "What happened to the book when we came back?"

 His body froze, and he turned his eyes to Marche's. "That's what I wanted you guys over here for…"

   Ritz stepped forward, wiping Shara's blood from her hands. "What do you mean?"

Mewt took up bandaging Shara's leg again, biting his lip. Ritz frowned, "Mewt! What happened?"

   Mewt looked up at her and said slowly, "The book disappeared from my bedside table this morning."

  "What do you mean 'disappeared'?" Marche said, although he already knew what it meant.

   "I meant what I said. The book is gone."

*****

   Doned rocked back and forth in his wheel chair, biting his lip as he stared out the window. His mother had forbidden him to go outside today because of the ice on the sidewalks, and usually that would've annoyed him. But not now, not today. Today was different for some reason. There was strange feeling in his gut he couldn't explain. Hmmm…

    He waited in silence, waiting diligently for Marche to come home. When Marche was home he was never really worried. His brother could help him get through anything.

   He had taken in what Marche had said in Ivalice when Doned had complained about not being able to walk if he came home. Now he felt slightly ashamed of himself. His whole life, his mother and father had tended to him hand and foot, while Marche stood off to the side, feeling helpless and alone. He hated that feeling; he sometimes felt it himself, like he was trapped in his own body. 

    Doned sighed. The reason why mom and dad broke up was because of finances related to my illness… it's all my fault…

  My fault…

   He folded his arms on the sill, reaching over so much that his pajama top drifted a few inches up from its usual position. He buried his head in his hands. Poor Marche… I made fun of him because he doesn't do well in sports… but he could never ask for anything from mom or dad… they just cast him aside…

  Doned had been avoiding Marche's eyes for the past month, ashamed of how he had deprived Marche of a life with a family who actually had time for him. He was sorry he had made fun of his brother when really it was all a cover up. Poking at Marche always made him feel better… especially on days when he had just come home from the hospital.

   It's my fault our parents split… that Marche's unhappy… mine and mine alone…

   A cool wind breathed on his backside, sending a chill up his spine. Someone was moving behind him.

  Doned froze, testing whether he should call out or not. The footsteps in the room were strange, yet oddly familiar. He stared into the frosty window and found a reflection of someone behind him. "Marche?"

    The figure froze against the fire light, slowly turning around. The person's face was cast largely in shadow as it strode over to the window where Doned was, its heavy footsteps casting snow in all directions. The snow melted in an instant and sank into the carpet as the figure came to his side.

   Doned could see little of the clothing the person wore in the reflection, but knew it was foreign. He whirled around, grabbing his squirt gun and holding it up to the figure, his finger on the trigger. "Don't move!"
  Although the face was in shadow he could tell the person was smiling. "Hello Doned."

   He dropped the gun. That voice… "Marche?"

     Silence.

  "Marche, that's not funny. I know it's you. Stop acting scary, Halloween was ages ago."

     The person stepped forward, and the face finally came into light. Doned's eyes widened. "M-Marche?"

   The boy in front of him was Marche's age, but didn't look like Marche… at least not quite. The boy had jet-black hair in the same style as Marche's, but instead of blue eyes, two cold gray ones stared down at Doned. His skin was almost chalk-white, and he was wearing a blue soldier's uniform. He grinned coldly down at Doned. "My sweet brother…"

   The boy reached for him, but Doned pushed his hands away. This isn't Marche! What's happening?!

  "Come now brother," he said, his voice sounding as close to gentle as it could ever be. His eyes glinted as one brown-gloved hand pushed through and bound both Doned's hands. "Mustn't keep our friends waiting…"

  Doned's legs were useless; he was trapped. "Let me go!" he choked, but instead of the intended cry it came out a whimper. He tried to scream, but nothing came out. "Let me go!"

  Something cool and sharp came to his neck, and Doned dared his eyes to gaze down at the sword held at his throat. "Cooperate," the boy said coolly. "Or you die."

   Doned gulped, his body drenched in a cold sweat. "Don't scream, don't move. Mother is downstairs, she won't hear us… won't save you. It will all be over soon…" the boy said gently, as he let go of his hands, still keeping the blade to Doned's throat. He pulled out another sword and slashed at the air. "Seam Split!"

   To Doned's amazement a portal appeared right where the boy's sword had slashed, and before he could utter a cry for help, or anything at all, the boy pulled him through.

   The boy laughed a high, cold laugh. "The Gran Grimoire is ours! All ours…"

     Doned cringed. Marche!! Mewt!! Ritz!! Someone help me!!

*****

"Gone?! How can the book be gone?" cried Ritz, her face paling.

    Mewt sighed. "I had an odd dream last night, a dream where I was wandering the streets of Ivalice… where I was the prince. But I had some weird pinkish clothes on this time. I had the book with me, and I uttered the magic words… and then…"

   Marche put a hand to the side of his head, "Llednar…"

     Mewt turned to look at him. "How did you know?"

 "I… I saw him… wandering the streets…" Marche stared into space. "He turned and grinned at me… and then Shara…"

   "Who is Llednar?"

  The two boys turned to Ritz, suddenly realizing that she probably had no idea who they were talking about.

   They glanced at each other, and then Mewt explained, "Llednar is the essence of my hatred… an illusion created my Remedi to protect me and kill Marche. He turned to stone when Marche defeated him… but we have not seen him since."

   "But he's a part of you right?" Ritz said, drawing closer. "Which means…"

  "He's still in your mind…" Marche said softly. "And that means that the dream you had…"

   "Llednar's got the book," Mewt finished. "But I don't think he knows that I witnessed it."

   Marche pursed his lips, looking slightly fearful. "Shara's appearance… Mewt, you don't think…?"

   Ritz clapped her fist in the palm of her hand. "Isn't it obvious? Llednar is trying to bring Ivalice to the way it was when Mewt had the book! But he's doing a very sloppy job of it…"

   A jolt sprang up Marche's spine; the familiar jolt, the jolt he got whenever a seam was near…

   "A seam's been opened…" he said quietly, and the two turned to look at him.

  Suddenly it hit Ritz. "Wait… why hasn't the world changed yet? If he wanted to, it would've changed by now…"

   Marche looked at her. "You don't think he's after one of us is he? He could get one of us easily you know, we're vulnerable in this world."

  Suddenly Mewt's expression was very grave. "Marche… Marche where's Doned?"

***To Be Continued***