We all know their tale.

Their tale is, after all, that of many heroes and heroines that have come and gone throughout the ages. Men and women whom Kismet chooses to smile upon in the wake of some new crisis or unconquerable enemy. People as diverse as the day is long, a body of unwavering souls which overcome adversity, incalculable odds, and even themselves. Yes. Their tale is nothing new to the annals of time.

This, however, is not their tale.

The story which follows concerns what came before. For every tale that is told, pieces will often be missing, just as the odd voice is left silent or the scattered question will linger like a splinter in the skin. Reasons for such omissions as these warrant their own little story, thus giving a better understanding of the larger picture in the process. The curious need only exercise discretion when finding the closure they have so tirelessly sought, for the answered riddle can mean many things.

This tale of a tale precedes the adventures of the historically significant Returners and the flight of their Falcon. It precedes the Light of Judgment as well. It predates the World of Ruin and even the Empire which brought about its genesis, for some nine and a half centuries after the War of the Magi ended, all of these happenings found root in the most unlikeliest of places.

It all began in a field . . .

It was a very hot and lazy midsummer day. A white sun burned high and bright in the clear blue sky while the occasional ocean breeze whipped across the open meadows below. A lone oak tree, standing silent in the shadow of some nearby foothills, gave a gentle sway in the wind, rustling its leaves until the calm settled back down around it.

For the ones that either worked or traveled, it was the type of afternoon that deserved either half a day of hard labor or a nice downpour to take the edge off. Banon, however, didn't seem to think so. It was the first sunny day any of them had received since the storm had let up just the other day, and the young boy couldn't sit still no matter how hot the sun was.

He sprung up from out of the meadow, hoping to get the jump on his brother.

"Marco--"

"Polo."

Banon spun around in his place, grinning as he saw an indistinct form tunneling through the long ferns and bee-lining for the oak tree in the distance. He gave an excited holler of victory as he ran to catch up with him.

"I gotcha now! There's no getting away from me this time!"

He huffed and puffed his way through the tall grass, half-jumping and half-sprinting into the foliage so as to stay on top of his sibling. Wheezing to a stop after five minutes of pursuit, Banon found that he had lost the chase yet again when a gale wind blew over the trail his brother left behind in the meadow.

But Banon never erred. "Marco--"

"POLO!"

Banon jerked as his brother sprung up from right behind him. He gave his older, longer-haired sibling as defiant a stare as any playful child could manage.

"Gestahl!"

With a crafty-looking sneer wrapped around his face, he turned tail and continued on closing the gap between himself and the oak tree. Banon quickly fell in step behind him, shouting for Gestahl to stop or even just to slow down a bit. He did neither, and by the time Banon made it to the foot of the tree his brother was already scrambling his way up through a maze of oak branches. He scratched at his short, blond hair in frustration.

"No fair, brother. You know I'm afraid of heights."

Gestahl's grin had lost none of its integrity as he peered down at him from where he sat upon one of the topmost branches. He let both of his feet swing to and fro, causing some of the nearby limbs to rustle audibly alongside him.

"Then I guess my plan worked perfectly, didn't it?" He straightened out one of his brown pantlegs. "I suppose this means I win, huh?"

Banon crossed his arms irately, the defiance in his eyes intense enough to completely burn the tree out from under him.

"I swear that if I only just thought of bringing a chocobo out with us, I could just fly on up there to get you down."

Gestahl scoffed. "Chocobos can't fly, dummy."

"They can to." Banon scaled his way up some of the lower hanging branches, paying close attention as to how far away the ground was. "Dad even said they can, so there."

His brother reached up and pulled himself on top of the branch directly above him, aware that his brother couldn't possibly get to him but not taking any chances. "You don't really listen to everything dad says, do you?"

Banon stopped trying to pull himself up any further, his determination giving way to disbelief. "He's the king of Vector," he replied, as though that fact alone answered everything.

"That doesn't mean he's always right." He broke eye contact with his brother down below, deciding that there had to have been something more exciting to see from such a high altitude. "Kings can make mistakes too, you know."

"Not dad," Banon insisted, sounding discontent. "Never . . ."

"Yes, dad too." Gestahl reached up for yet another branch. "And I'd really like to know where he got the idea that chocobos could fl--aiiiiiii!"

The branch above him gave way, taking Gestahl with it on the trip down. Banon heard it, along with his brother's strangled cry, but could do nothing other than watch helplessly. Both of Gestahl's outflung arms corkscrewed endlessly as he descended, struggling for something to grab ahold of but falling too quickly to secure any kind of grip. Off on the opposite side of the oak he landed at last, spread-eagled on the ground and yelping in pain.

"Gestahl!"

The older brother grunted in irritation as Banon spun around the base of the tree, pushing through the tall grass to get to his prone sibling.

"Are you okay!" he cried, kneeling down beside him. "Did you break your back!"

"It's alright, I'm fine." He sneered away from the help Banon offered and brought himself up on one knee, his face contorting in anguish from the effort. "I just . . . got the wind knocked out of me, that's all."

Banon stayed beside him, studying Gestahl's movements in case he learned abruptly of something that was fractured or broken.

"Now you know why I'm so afraid of heights. Can you stand up?"

"Of course I can," he growled through clenched teeth, then staggered back to his feet just to prove that he could. "Ow! No, it's fine."

"Come on, brother. We need to get you home and looked at by a doctor."

Gestahl sighed defeatedly. "Dad's just going to love that. I know exactly what he's going to say too. 'You were playing around that oak tree again, weren't you'? He'd ground us for a month."

"Brother, you're smoking."

He squinted."I'm what?"

Banon motioned behind him, stuttering. "Y-y-your clothes, they're smoking."

He jerked and started slapping at his shoulder, as though trying to bat aside some unseen demon. Seething hot pinpricks of fire stabbed at his arms and legs too, and both the brothers realized rather suddenly that the entire north side of the tree was burning! The ground beneath their feet even smoldered black, its ashes swirling and dancing in the afternoon wind.

"What happened here?" Banon put out the last of the flames on his brother's back. "Where did all of this fire come from?"

"Hey Banon, look at that."

He pointed up towards the foothills, where a blackened trail zigzagged up across the rockface. At its end, Gestahl could barely make out the pale white form that was ambling its way along before disappearing inside of a shallow cave.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I don't know, but it might hurt us. We should probably go back home."

"Hold on." Banon seized Gestahl by one of his coat sleeves. "You were the one that found the thing. And besides, it could be the one that's hurt. It might need our help."

"But it's almost lunchtime. Mom'll get angry if we miss lunch twice in a row."

"Lunch!" Banon let go of his brother's sleeve and started trudging up the hillside. "Alright, fine. You go home and eat. I'll go by myself."

"Banon . . ."

"No, it's fine. Just go."

"Banon, don't--"

But his brother was already halfway up the foothill. Gestahl sighed and went to catch up, wincing and arching his back in pain with every step he took. Nestled in the cool shade of the mountainside, the two of them met up again outside the mouth of the cave. Their hearts raced, neither one being entirely sure of what lay in store for them.

"I'll go in first," Banon said. "After I'm in, count to twenty Kohlingen's and come in after me."

"Hey, why do you always get to do things first?"

"Okay, fine. You can go in first."

"That's more like it," Gestahl replied, his head already too far into the cave opening to see his brother's triumphant grin. "Hey, wait a second . . ."

"Too late, now," Banon told him, pushing Gestahl the rest of the way in. He landed on the dark cavern floor with a thud. He waited for a moment, then another moment. A minute passed. "Hey Gestahl, are you alright down there?"

The dark silence lingered.

"Ges--"

"BOO!"

Banon jumped and hit his head on the roof of the cave, almost tumbling back down the foothill in the process.

"Ow! Gestahl, that really hurt!"

"So now, we're even."

"Well, is there anything down there or not? It only just got down here, so it couldn't have gotten too far."

"Haven't found anything yet. This place is pretty cool though. I bet it'd make a great fort for the summer. Come on down and take a look."

His own childish imagination getting in the way of his better judgment, Banon couldn't scurry down inside the cave entrance fast enough. The dank cavern air felt good against his sunburnt skin, and the rocky stratum below their feet seemed more than solid enough to support the both of them. Beyond the ridge it appeared as though everything curved down into a giant, black abyss, but when Gestahl stepped beyond to test his footing the splash of water welcomed him.

"It's an underground river," he said, awestruck. "Wow. I wonder what else is down--"

A set of sharp claws grabbed him from behind without warning, and the burning sensation he had felt down by the oak tree increased tenfold. Both brothers screamed, one out of sheer agony, the other out of uncomprehending terror. The creature seemed to have all the contours of a thinly shaped male except that it seemed composed entirely out of hellfire. With almost no time to think, Banon stripped off his tunic, dipped it into the groundwater, and lunged for the creature.

Gestahl's arms pinwheeled uselessly as he struggled to disentangle himself from the blazing hellion. Bearing down hard on him, and with its flaming touch searing past his clothes and into his flesh, the eldest of the two brothers strained to push the both of them off balance and into the nearby body of water. Just when it seemed as though his brother's strength was about to fail completely, Banon threw his waterlogged tunic down over the creature's body. Immediately, it went limp and fell to the ground in a naked heap.

"Brother?"

It took Gestahl longer to muster up a reply this time than after falling out of the tree, as most of his back was now covered with ugly, black/red scar tissue. Nonetheless, he grit his teeth.

"We should go home now, Banon."

"But we can't just leave it lying around here for someone else to find. The same thing could happen to a townsman passing by or worse."

Gestahl lingered down near the foot of the river, splashing several handfuls of water across his ravaged back. "What do you suggest we do then?"

Banon bit his lip in thought.

"Let's take it back to the castle..."

"Ba-non! Ges-tahl!" Maria called out in her usual, singsong voice. "Lunch is ready! Boys?"

Since having children, it had become something of a time-honored tradition to have lunch in the arboretum with her sons whenever the weather would permit it. There was nothing she enjoyed more than eating with her family out in the garden, as she felt that it gave life a certain feeling of completion. So, conversely, there was nothing more she couldn't stand than to have such plans unavoidably interrupted.

"Draco, sweetie . . ." She sat down outside at the table, fiddling with her long blond curls in a disappointed fashion. "What's keeping the kids so late?"

Her husband gave their delegate from Albrook a hasty handshake in his study, effectively sealing their trade agreement before joining his wife outside.

"Now then, what were you saying?"

She looked annoyed at having to repeat herself. "The kids, Draco. It's half past noon and they still haven't returned. I'm getting worried."

"I'm sure they're both fine. Thick as thieves, those two are. They've been cooped up inside this castle for three straight days because of that storm, so you can't really blame them for taking advantage of the good weather." He reached across the table for her hand. She took it. "And besides, this could be the first time we've had lunch by ourselves in quite a while."

For a moment, Maria smiled at the prospect. His dark, green eyes and long, chestnut locks made him as every bit captivating as the day he had wrested her from Ralse's grasp on the east side of town. She couldn't ignore the appeal which one more day with him had on her, but then there was no ignoring the motherly intuition that weighed heavily on her mind either.

"No," she said, shaking her head, "No, we can't. If they can't join us for lunch, then I at least have to know where they are. I feel so helpless whenever I don't know."

He grinned and sat back in his chair, not at all upset that she had turned down his invitation. "Well, if I were a young and impressionable child, I'd more than likely go some place which my parents had told me a million times to stay away from."

"You think they're down by the oak tree?"

He leaned across the table and kissed her lips. "I tell you what, I'll have one of my squires prepare a chocobo and go out there to pick them up. With any luck, we'll be back to grab a quick bite before the chancellor has some other concern that he wants to address."

She stood as he started to leave, putting her hands around his neck. "Just promise me that you won't be gone too long."

He kissed her again, more deeply this time. "My word is my bond, Maria."

Even as the king retreated through his wife's plantations toward the stable, Gestahl and Banon were already maneuvering their way through their mother's intricately shaped hedges. They plodded along more than they sprinted, straining from the insufferable weight of the man-thing in their grasp. At last, Gestahl could manage no more and fell back on his haunches. The pain in his shoulders and back had overwhelmed him.

"Brother?"

He dropped the creature's legs and helped Gestahl sit up against a hedge, careful not to touch his scars. But even his brother's gentle hands did little to end the agony which sought to explode from out his skin.

"Banon, it hurts!" He twitched and kept reaching behind him, as though it were all just a simple matter of tearing something away from his spine. "I can't . . . the pain . . . it's killing me!"

"Help!" Banon clutched at his screaming brother, suddenly forgetting about the creature that was lying unconscious on the grass beside them. "Somebody help us!"

Almost immediately, they heard a set of iron greaves trudging along the sods toward them while their mother gave a scream as though instantly understanding the plight of her two sons. Seconds later, their father appeared down at the edge of the path, both eyebrows arched in horror at the scene unfolding before him.

"Banon!" he cried out, throwing aside the leather saddle he had been carrying. "Look out behind you!"

Before he could even react to his father's warning, a set of razor-sharp teeth tore into his right arm. Banon screamed as his father kept racing towards them, gesturing and yelling out wildly until the thing's attention was finally diverted. It had only enough time to rear its ugly head and snarl before the king of Vector skidded along the grass and threw out one of his silver gauntlets. The creature reeled from the impact, cartwheeling in midair before crumpling to the ground.

"Banon, are you alright?"

He grunted, clutching at the bloody mess on his arm. "It's just a bite," he assured him, motioning to his brother. "Gestahl could use you more than I could."

"You okay, buddy?"

Gestahl's head lolled on his shoulders. "Back . . . hurts."

Maria soon caught up with them, carrying the hem of her chartreuse dress in her hands as she ran. Her own worst fears appeared justified.

"My Goddess," she cried, taking Gestahl into her arms.

"This thing--" Draco kicked at the unconscious half-man. "--attacked them. Where did it come from anyway?"

Gestahl squirmed in his mother's embrace. "Mmm . . . Banon . . ."

"What?"

Tears welled up and poured out of Banon's eyes. "Gestahl and I found it out in the foothills. We though it was lost or injured, so we . . . so I . . . decided to bring it back to the castle."

"But son, this thing is dangerous. You don't even know what it is or where it came from. What possible reason could you have for wanting to bring it here?"

Banon's voice became liquid and he had to struggle to get his words out. "Because I didn't want the same thing happening to someone else. I'm sorry dad, I didn't mean for Gestahl to get hurt."

Draco was taken aback by his son's reply, and Maria reached out to touch his arm. He smiled and threw his arms around him.

"It's okay, son," he replied, even as Banon apologized profusely into his father's shoulder. "It's okay, you did well. I'm so proud of you."

Gestahl turned to look at his father and Banon, the agony in his vertebrae suddenly gone. Unbelievable, he thought bitterly to himself, I almost get paralyzed and burnt to a crisp, and dad is proud of him He continued to stare a set of acidic daggers towards his brother even after his father started talking again.

"Maria, take the kids inside. I'll send for a doctor just as soon as I'm done taking care of . . . whatever this is."

"You're not going to kill it, are you dad?"

He eyed his youngest son as only a benevolent king and father could have.

"No Banon," he said, shaking his head. "I'm not going to kill it."

Draco waited until he was alone with the quivering pile of near-human muscle before grabbing it by both its arms.

"Not yet, anyway."