The Return of Chaos:
In the army of Emperor Gestahl, in the service of Sir Kefka, there was a soldier so quiet that no one remembered his name. Now he trudged in the footsteps of the Magitech giants that trudged through a snowstorm. It was cold, bitterly so, and the falling of the snows was a constant thing. It would have been impossible to move through it all had it not been for the machines.
His sword was very well maintained at his side, but several new stitches were needed on his outfit. They'd opened up as they scaled the highlands around Narshe, avoiding the roads so as not to be seen. The land here was not fertile like in the area around the capital of Vector. But these northern lands were new to the industry. Virtually everyone out here did subsistence farming. All save those who served King Edgar Figaro. His lands had the virtue of being so barren that he had no incentive not to go full-on into technology.
Indeed, he was perhaps Gestahl's favorite vassal if some stories were to be believed. The soldier remembered that Gestahl and Edgar had spent many hours alone together. They were pouring over old maps. Some even thought that Edgar might be in the running to be heir to the throne. Especially since Gestahl himself had never married, some older folk, much older, even said that Edgar behaved as almost a second edition of the Emperor. Or at least as he had been in his youth.
But all these thoughts were far away compared to the chill of the winds and the silent trudging of boots.
At last, there came a pause in the march, and the men put down their packs and sat down. The soldier, for his part, stayed standing and peered around for any sign of an ambush. He did not expect one, but such things happened when you didn't pay attention. But, he saw nothing, and Captain Biggs, with his Lieutenant Wedge, went over to the edge of a cliff.
The soldier was curious and not feeling the snow quite so much as others; the soldier went over near them. As near as he dared, and he was able to get his first real look at the secret weapon. Though, that was not fair. For it was not a weapon, but a woman and a majestically beautiful one, bearing a crown upon her head. Her eyes were empty, and she was silent, as silent as every other man here. Her green hair flew around her fur-clad form as she maneuvered her device and looked down.
The soldier looked down too, wondering what her name was and how she had come to this place. Had she been a criminal? An enemy? Or someone who was taken for other purposes? Had she been a good person once? Or was she bad, and always had been bad.
Somehow, he doubted he would ever find out.
So instead, he looked down toward where her gaze was focused and saw Narshe. He'd come far and through many miserable hours of marching to get to it. And frankly, he wouldn't mind seeing it in flames. It was a horrible thing to think, but to have come across the entire world for this was a disappointment.
A huge city, for it, was not really a town, it was too large for that. But it was built of ramshackle wood, with tracks all over the place. Sentries could be seen on guard, holding swords and clad in concealing garb. Yet, there were no walls or fortification.
It made sense.
Narshe was far from the battlefield, and the desert of Figaro was impassable anyway. The people who dwelled in that land were too few to threaten them. And the last two Gestahlian campaigns had never gotten this far. If not for the map information provided by King Edgar, the desert could never have been crossed. If not for the Magitech, the snows would have slowed them to a crawl. If not for the discipline and experience of the Imperial Military, they should have had to take the roads. Then they would have been ambushed long before.
This snowy town is filled with merchants coming by boat to purchase goods. Yet, the soldier realized this was a great achievement. They had made history here, gone farther than any Imperial force had ever marched. All for on goal; To seize Narshe.
All for the Esper.
"Well, there it is," said Captain Biggs. "Take a good look at it, men, because after we seize it, we'll be here a while. It'll take some time before Lord Kefka gets his troops up here. So we have to take it, secure the Esper, and then keep the place.
"That means I need you alive and able to fight. Take some rest. You'll need it for what comes next." Then he turned to Wedge, who was clad in the same concealing armor. "Wedge, the woman will take the front. You and I will go on either side."
"Are you sure we can rely on this one?" asked Wedge.
"Why do you think we're putting her in the front?" asked Biggs. "That slave crown should keep her in line. But I don't want to have her at our backs if it breaks.
"You're the expert on these people. What do you think of our chances?"
Wedge paused. "Narshe has not fought a serious war. They deal with monsters and sometimes bandit raids. However, those streets are narrow. If we get spaced out, we'll be divided and destroyed.
"But, we also have to deal with the garrison if we're going to fend off reinforcements."
Biggs nodded and took out a set of binoculars, and looked down. "The mine entrance is heavily guarded. The people of Narshe regard Espers as sacred, right?"
"Yeah, something like that," said Wedge.
"Well then," said Biggs. "If they think that we're threatening the Esper, they'll throw everything at us. If we punch straight through the center of town and get to the mine entrance, we'll move in. We can post the infantry on guard while you and I and the weapon take the Esper."
"Shouldn't we leave the Esper until after we win?" asked Wedge.
"The thing is a demon, Wedge," said Biggs. "And it probably knows a thing or two about the Empire by now. The last thing I want is it coordinating with the Narshe defenders. And even if it doesn't care about them, it might book it when it hears the fighting.
"They've been mining these mountains for hundreds of years. There have got to be a few other passages leading out of that mine. And if it gets out of one, we'll never find it. Besides, even if we catch it napping, the Narshe guards might send somebody to wake it up.
"We have to take it hard and fast or not at all. Now, get some rest. We attack from the west."
And so the preparations began.
The soldier would have loved to speak with his friends here about his hopes and dreams, but he had none. He was the only person in this regiment, and perhaps in the entire Imperial Army, from his town. No one else had wanted to join and because of certain services performed. The Emperor gave them special treatment.
So he simply sat, looking down at the desolate snowscape and wondering if he would be alive tomorrow. And if he was alive tomorrow, what would he do then? Hopes and dreams...
Where did they really go in the end?
So began the last march. They moved with speed and determination. It appeared in the pale light of day, veiled by snowfall, as walking dead. They were others, emerging from the legends and darkness of history. Now they fell upon a corrupt and decadent world like demons. The people of Narshe had forgotten about everyone out beyond their world of money and stone.
It was time for the Empire to remind them.
'These things I am going to destroy,' thought the soldier.
And he felt nothing as he did so.
And at last, the gate, wide-open and distantly visible in the path ahead. On they moved toward it, walking the inevitability of the damned. Their swords were plain and sharp, their armor was thick, and their shields broad.
"Now we come to it," said Biggs, voice relishing the moment. "We will take no booty nor slay any who do not bear arms against us. We have use for them in the new order.
"You are soldiers of the Empire. You do not know pain; you do not know fear. We are the fighting men of Vector! We fear neither magic nor god nor the power of stars!
"We fear only Gestahl!
"Gestahl commands that Narshe be taken, and by the God Strife it shall be so! FOR THE EMPEROR!"
"FOR THE EMPEROR!" The men roared as their swords were drawn.
And then they charged.
It was a magnificent moment. Or so it seemed after a fashion, racing toward the front gates. Even now people were scurrying out of the way. A militia was arming, horns were sounding, and men were coming down to try and stop them. But it was fruitless.
Waves of fire were unleashed from the hands of the woman, burning the frontmost men alive. Biggs and Wedge unleashed the power of Magitech. They were firing waves of flame that tore them apart, scattering the formation. More came, but the three Magitechs heeded them no more than worms in the mud. They smashed through those that barred their way and left the rest for the infantry.
The soldier rushed forward, clashing swords with an enemy and disarming him in a moment. The man backed away and fled, and the soldier turned to the same to another, then another. One went for his sword again and was likewise disarmed. The lust for battle was on him. Soon he saw that many of the Narshe guards had been slain or fled. The rest were taking a defensive position.
Yet Biggs motioned.
"Forward!" cried Biggs. "In the name of Strife the Invincible, forward to the mines!"
A cheer came from their lips, and they rushed forward. Three times the guards of Narshe formed up from other streets to block them. The first time they were driven in, and the third, they fled without a fight. The sight of bloodied swords and the trail of bodies behind was too much for them to bear.
And at last, the entrance.
"Remain here," said Biggs. "Do not allow anyone to interfere in this! We will deal with the accursed Esper!"
It had been a good day.
The soldier had joined the army to fight and become great. He noticed many of his compatriots were looking at him in a new light. One of them was confused. "Why didn't you kill any of them?"
"Dead men can't work mines," said the soldier.
That got a laugh from a lot of them.
"They're gonna have a labor shortage soon, then," said one.
The soldier looked up and saw the men of Narshe forming up in great numbers. Yet this time, they were not making any reckless charges. Some of the wounded were being dragged away for healing. Meanwhile, others were readying themselves. Men clad in heavier armor were here now, and others with long swords.
Now came the real fight.
The Magitech was gone, and they were outnumbered. Yet they had only an attack from one direction to deal with, and their spirits were good.
So the battle was joined.
The Narshe soldiers rushed at them, armored men at the front, and shields were locked. Now two shield walls matched, swords hacked and smashing. The soldier turned a blade and clipped one man across the head with the flat of his blade. His enemy went down, and another took his place. Yet he, too, fell, and similar events were happening.
More and more bodies were piling up, but not all of them were men of Narshe. Some of the soldier's comrades were dead, and more soldiers were coming in by the moment. Fighting all the harder, the fighting became ever more fierce. Blood spilled in rivers, coursing down the cobblestones toward the gates. The screams of the wounded and dying were everywhere.
This was what he lived for.
A whistle blew, and the soldier's battleline was swapped with the rear guard. Falling back behind his comrade's shields, he drank from his canteen. The Narshe soldiers weren't capable of that kind of maneuver, and many of them were tired and began to die off.
Then, suddenly, there came a shrill horn call from the cave entrance.
The soldier turned, and he saw a great force of Narshe soldiers rushing out of the caves? Had they overwhelmed Captain Biggs? Or simply outmaneuvered him?
It did not matter at all.
The soldier knew that he must kill now, or he and everyone he loved would perish. He called aloud to his comrades and cut a man across the face, rushing forward. His enemy screamed in agony as he hit the ground but did not die. He was still screaming as the soldier parried an attack from another man. From there, he stabbed him through the heart. Ducking under another blade, he slashed a throat, and blood sprayed onto his helmet. One more blow killed the screaming man. Then he turned to parry a series of blows from a skilled Narshe soldier.
They fought back and forth as the Gestahlian lines were flanked. Blade on blade clashed, and soon he found he was by the cave itself. The soldier halted, and there came a pause in the fighting. The man before him was not a northerner; his skin was darker than tan. He had messy gray hair with a headband and had a smile on his face.
He was obviously enjoying himself.
Well, you have too much of a good thing.
Their blade clashed again, and the soldier noted as they circled. The Gestahl Legions had formed a ring and were fighting on all sides. It was a gruesome fight going on now, with screams and battle cries. The clash of swords was everywhere as the soldier and the man in blue fought. Their swords moved faster and faster, flashing in the sunlight. The blood-soaked snow was shunted aside beneath their feet.
Back and forth, and around. Then the adventurer, his sword technique was not of Narshe, hurled a knife. The soldier parried it but then had to parry a blow and found himself on the defensive. Despite himself, he found himself smiling.
Would that they could fight like this forever.
Unfortunately, the men were losing. The troops were being overwhelmed little by little, and Captain Biggs must be told. So, as a pause came in the combat, the soldier stooped low and hurled snow into the adventurer's face. He flinched back, and the soldier kicked him to the ground before raising his sword in a salute.
From there, he raced into the darkness.
Fortunately, there were some torches to run by a little way on. As he did, he wondered how he would find Captain Biggs. Then he saw the trail of broken and mutilated corpses and reflected it was a stupid question. So he raced after them, praying to the war god Strife that his comrades would hold out.
However, stepping over the bodies, he became aware of flashes in the air. The sound of lightning and fire could be heard, and then two screams. The soldier ran on anyway, guessing the voices were Biggs and Wedge. If nothing else, perhaps he could use their Magitech, or the girl might be there.
No such luck.
The soldier slowed to a halt and found the Esper. It stood before him in all its power, akin to a bird, yet bearing a luster and power like nothing else. And the Magitech were wrecked and destroyed. Captain Biggs was lying dead alongside Lieutenant Wedge, their flesh charred to skeletons.
Moving forward, the soldier raised his sword to defend.
Then there was a flash, and the Esper was gone. The soldier looked around and saw one survivor. The girl from before, yet her slave crown was shattered. So she was no longer of the Empire, or so the soldier assumed. He doubted they'd go to the trouble of slave crowning someone who was loyal.
"It came this way," said a Narshe voice.
The soldier realized he had only very little time to act and that if he did not act, both he and the girl would be dead. She was obviously a valuable prize to the Emperor and had to be kept alive if possible. At the very least, she could not be recaptured.
Should he kill her?
No, not save at the absolute end of need. Lord Kefka was en route and could likely win. He needed only to ensure the girl was kept safe until then. So, wiping off his blade, he sheathed it, picked her up, and ran back the way he came. Halting by the shadows, he saw troops arrive and examine the Magitech. Too many to fight directly.
So he waited until they moved on, wishing to know if his friends had triumphed. Still, he decided that an Imperial Uniform would be a bad idea to wear.
Thus he pulled off his helmet, letting his blonde hair fall out. Hurling it off, he came to the corpses and halted. Quickly tearing off his breastplate and armor, he threw it to one side. From there, he snatched up the clothes that were less blooded from several other people. Now looking more or less like a Narshe guard, he put down the girl and took hold of her uniform. Feeling reservations about stripping a lady, he reminded himself she was a criminal.
So he quickly pulled off her clothes, trying to keep from looking at a very beautiful body. Admittedly the breasts weren't quite as nice as some, but that was going by high standards. Then he dressed her as best he could in the unform from the smaller corpses. Once done, he pulled the veils over their eyes and raced out.
When he came to the gate, he saw that his comrades had been taken, hostage. At least what was left of them. There were about a dozen kneeling with armed men behind them. An officer was giving orders. And the soldier knew what they were before he had to ask.
Blades were drawn and plunged through the throats of his fellows—one by one.
Were there others like him who had survived?
It did not matter. Everyone was watching the executions, so he was able to walk past. One of the men saw him and then saw a strand of green hair. The man nodded before he died.
Then the soldier was out, walking through a ruined street of bloodied people. But the soldier knew the gates would never let him through. He had to find a place to put her before he made his own escape. Someone had to tell Lord Kefka that the girl was still alive once he ensured she stayed that way.
The Returners must have a presence here.
Quickly, he went over to someone. "You... this woman says she is a Returner. She saved my life. Where are... who do I talk to?"
The women looked at him in pity and hopefully didn't guess. She was half in shock herself and pointed up to a cliff. There was a house up there, the only one, and he nodded before rushing off. As he did, he smelled the carnage from before, no matter how many wooden steps he climbed. The fridged winds seemed all the worse by now, and he shivered in them, hating his concealing clothes.
Coming to the door, he knocked quickly.
There was a pause, and the door opened. A balding man with brownish blonde hair looked out, about forty. "What is going on here?"
"This girl was enslaved by the Empire using a slave crown," said the soldier. "I'm afraid she'll be killed if she is left with the garrison. Can the Returners help her?"
The man paused. "Right, yes, of course. Give her to me. Do you need help?"
"Nothing you can give," said the soldier. "Thank you, though."
And he hurried back down the steps, as he did, he reflected that the man who had just helped a woman in need of help was probably a dead man. Kefka would surely kill him. But then, he was as Returner. Now he just had to get out of here.
So it was that the lone soldier slipped down the streets and moved through the wrecked streets of Narshe. Then, snatching a few heavier garments from a body, he slipped out the gates.
His comrades were dead, and fires were rising from Narshe behind him. The Esper was still alive, and the girl was in enemy hands. When he brought this information to Kefka, he knew well his life might be forfeit. But he decided it would not be right to leave his fallen comrades disgraced. He had to do all he could to salvage things.
His shield was broken; his armor was lost. All that remained to him now was the sword at his side. And as a new snowfall fell down upon him from above, he walked in the footprints that his soldiers had made.