The Gift Of Purpose


Garland's private chambers were at the back of Castle Pandemonium, beyond a badly lit maze of monster-infested corridors. They weren't allowed to attack me, but they still followed me around because I was fleshy and small. I hated the far-above whirr of the abadons' wings and the stink of the malboros skulking just inside every shadow, and I didn't see why Garland allowed them to run free when I came to see him. Even he didn't trust them. I had to wear an enchanted belt just in case something stupid tried to rip my head off.

One time, an injured abadon had swooped down on me, thinking it had found an easy meal, but a few Thunder spells made it listen to Garland's orders. I wanted to run away from the shrieking, wheeling insect, but only idiots ran when there were monsters around. So I had walked through the maze, heart hammering in my chest, head pounding from all the spells I'd cast, and after an eternity I reached the warded spiral stairs that led to Garland's chambers. I wanted to run then, to finally give in to the frantic commands of my body, but I hadn't. There was no point any more, and it would only leave me out of breath. When I had told Garland all this, he seemed impressed by my conduct and told me that I had an unexpectedly good head for danger.

This journey through the maze was almost completely silent, and I wondered why everything was so peaceful. Perhaps the monsters have been fed... I stopped as a deliciously horrible thought hit me. What if Garland fed the Genomes to the monsters? What if he left them in this maze? They wouldn't know any spells, or that they shouldn't run, and then they'd be eaten up like vitamin pills. He could do it easily. Every single day, he could round up all the other Genomes and put them in the maze, and then he could somehow replace them all while I slept, and I'd never know.

I giggled nervously and carried on walking, telling myself I was imagining things but half expecting to find a lock of bloody hair or a splinter of spat-out bone. After a few more twists and turns, I reached the orange light curtain that meant complete safety. There had been no monsters and no bodies, and I grinned at my foolishness. Well, the maze was the sort of place that encouraged dark thoughts. It was a place for monsters of the flesh, all guttering torches and sweating walls and blank yawning spaces, and monsters of the mind were equally at home in its endless corridors. Not a bad bit of wordsmanship there, I thought, and grinned again.

My mind had been improving in leaps and bounds over the last few weeks. My very first memories of Bran Bal were nothing more than unconnected blue blurs Garland would sometimes appear in, pointing at things and speaking in a language I hadn't learnt yet. That had been only six weeks ago according to Garland, and now here I was, walking unafraid through a den of monsters and letting my imagination run wild.

I walked up the seventy-two steps to Garland's rooms, shuffled off my slippers, and passed through the great double doors to his study. He was in the far corner of the room, sat behind his desk as usual and looking mildly at me over clasped fingers, and I bowed slightly as I had been taught.

"Sit down, Kuja. I have much that I need to tell you, and I judge that you are ready."

His voice gave no hint of what he might say, and I was instantly curious. I walked across the room, the thick carpet a welcome relief from the close-packed earth below, and sat down on the armchair closest to the desk. It was the smaller of the two in the room, but I could still sit cross-legged on the seat without touching the sides or back. Garland waited for me to settle into its depths before speaking. "You are no doubt aware by now that you are not quite the same as the other Genomes in Bran Bal. Today I shall tell you why you are different, but first I have something to ask you. What do you know about the Genomes?"

As he had spoken, I had been leaning further and further forward in eagerness, waiting for the secret to be revealed. When I realised he wasn't going to explain everything immediately, I flopped back into the chair, not bothering to hide my disgust. "We are vessels for the souls of Terra when they awaken, and they will only awaken when Terra's souls outnumber Gaia's."

None of that meant very much to me. Terra was the planet where Bran Bal was, and Gaia was a planet that existed beyond the portal that lit Terra's surface. There were globes of the two planets on Garland's desk, but I didn't know which was which. I carried on, wondering why Garland wanted me to go over all this. "The Old Terrans have been sleeping for thousands of years, but the time of their awakening draws near." That meant slightly more to me. Wouldn't the awakening of Terra mean that a soul would take over my body and drive me out? I'd never dared ask that question, but it seemed that Garland was ready to give me an answer.

"For these last five thousand years, I have been draining away the souls of Gaia in order to make room for those of Terra. It is a slow process, slower than your newborn mind could ever hope to comprehend, but the end is in sight. There are now enough souls on Gaia that their loss would mean the restoration of Terra." His hands were flat on the table and he was sitting slightly forward like he was about to rise. He looked at me intently.

"It is time for the final phase of my plan to begin. I will require a champion; one who has the power, the position and the motive to become my glorious angel of death. I will need him to be cunning, patient, and ruthless. I will need him to have grace, intelligence, and charm." Now he had risen to his feet and was pacing back and forth in front of his desk. He was animated as I had never seen before, and I could feel confidence and power rolling from him in waves. Something was about to happen. Something that would change my life forever.

"He will have a fair face to deceive those among whom he walks, and his nature will be as demonic as his face is angelic." He turned to me, and I felt a shiver of excitement thrum through me. This was it. This was the great moment. "He will look upon the world and make it his own, this creation of mine. My wicked angel. My virtuous devil. My fiery little Kuja."