The youth was exhausted when the ATV finally ran out of gas. He was uncontrollably shaking at this point. However, he had managed to clear the snow fields. He had come to a narrow valley, the only passage over land to the south of the Icicle Inn area. Once there, he was forced to abandon the vehicle. Of course, he didn't just abandon it. He managed to figure out how to put it in neutral, and then shoved it into the nearest wide-enough chasm. After that, he began to limp along down the rocky valley.

Moving around helped Ragnar to warm up. It was early spring now, so it was cool even this far south. It was getting warmer though. As he walked along, the temperature only continued to rise. He was going to a lower altitude as well as further south. However, he was still dead tired. The anxiety had exhausted his body. He believed he was pretty much home free now, but once he went a little further, once he got into the forest, he would definitely be so. Yet he needed to move a bit farther first.

Only now, as the sun began to lower in the sky, did Ragnar start to feel a bit nervous. He realized now that he was alone in the wild. And this place was still far from safe. Some of the deadliest creatures on Gaia ran around here. New Shinra had exterminated many of them, but he was far from in the clear. He was all alone out here. There was nothing but the sounds of birds and an occasional insect chirping. As the sun lowered further, these began to turn into more night noises. That, coupled with the ominous rock valley that rose up on either side of him, pinching off his solitary body in the middle of nowhere, left him a bit afraid.

Just a bit further ahead, however, the trail came to an end. Ragnar stopped here, and looked ahead. Just a bit in front of him was the entrance to a cave. He hesitated. He didn't want to spend too much time in any dark places in the world. However, he looked a bit ahead, and saw that it wasn't completely enclosed. There were signs of some light in it. And it would make him feel less exposed than where he was now. He looked around a bit and frowned. In the end, he shrugged to himself and went on ahead, walking into the cave.

It was a bit harder to see than he initially thought in here. He made his way forward slowly and looked around. Overhead, the rocks were old and rough, carved out through thousands of years. The path at first was fairly straightforward, just leading right back into it. He followed it for a brief while. He continued to look around, and saw that there were some cracks and fissures in the ceiling that let rays of dimming light through, which was what provided illumination. It was acceptable for now. The cave itself was pretty dry too…and it seemed to be uninhabited.

Ragnar finally came to a halt a bit further along. The trail he was on abruptly terminated just about fifty feet ahead. And now, to his left, there was a long, sharp drop past a very sharp and weathered cliff inside the cave. Apparently, rain and water had washed out the one side ages ago, leaving this dangerous drop into the lower levels of the cave. The young man frowned. It looked like he was stuck for now… He began to look around to start heading his way back up…

But then, he paused. Something caught the corner of his eye at the end of the trail. Growing just above the cliff edge, somehow managing to survive in this dark cave, was a small green vine. If that wasn't enough, it was producing berries. And despite how early in the year it was, they looked ripe. Ragnar's stomach growled, voicing its opinion on the matter. It wasn't much, but Ragnar hadn't eaten all day, and he was half starved. In the end, that made his decision. He rushed forward to the vine to get what nourishment he could.

Ragnar had barely picked the first berry and crammed it into his mouth, when he saw something else. It had been concealed behind rock before, but now that he was next to the plant he saw it. There was a metal rung ladder leading down the side of this cliff, looking like it had been installed a few decades ago. However, the cave had to be dry, for it only had a few signs of rust on it. As he plucked another berry and popped it into his mouth, Ragnar reached over and gave it a shake. It ended up being pretty stable, and didn't quiver. The youth thought about this for a moment, as he ate the other five ripe berries on the vine. He looked back the way he came, and then back to the rung ladder. It was a long way down…a good hundred and fifty feet at least. But this ladder would take him all the way to the bottom. It seemed safe enough right now…but the rock could give way under his weight, thin as he was. And yet…for right now, he was still an easy target for a pursuing soldier. At last he decided. He grabbed onto the ladder tightly, swung his legs around, and began to descend the cliff side.

The young man had been climbing on his roof all his life, so he was not one who was afraid of heights. That was good, or else he would have locked up less than halfway down this rather steep climb. It was a bit too steep for Ragnar's tastes, and about halfway down he did, in fact, wish he had stayed up. But he kept going down, and after a few minutes, he did finally hit the bottom. He released the ladder gratefully and stepped back, whistling in relief. He looked back overhead, and saw that the cliff was indeed cracked and warped. Some fissures were so large a man could squeeze through them. No doubt, in earlier times, people had ascended this cliff using these instead of the ladder. This could be a good place to stop. It was dry here, and it seemed pretty concealed from any onlookers…

Yet again, as if in response to Ragnar's thoughts, he caught another item out of the corner of his eye, just gleaming there in a ray of light. He turned, and, lo and behold, there was another vine there, also with ripe berries. His stomach had barely been appeased by that light snack at the top of the cliff, and grumbled for more. However…at this point, Ragnar was a bit puzzled. That was the second time he had thought of stopping, only to see a berry vine growing in a lifeless semi-underground. This was weird… However, his stomach overruled him in the end, and so he walked over to engorge himself once more.

He had hardly arrived and begun to eat when he saw something just up ahead. Apparently, he was practically to the end of the cave now. Just a little bit onward, the cave narrowed again, before making a sharp turn and going out onto a rock ledge. The setting sun was pouring down light into this area, and Ragnar could also see a bit of sky surrounded by rock cliffs. The youth hesitated again as he ate his latest bit of berries. Actually…he did want to spend more time outside than inside, where there was light and no possibility of waking denizens. In the end, after eating, he turned and kept going down through the cave, to see where it went.

Ragnar emerged onto the rock ledge. He looked around a bit. Apparently, he was back in the valley, butit was farther below him. He was caught a bit higher up in the air, looking down over the edge of a cliff. It was much shorter than before, but Ragnar still couldn't jump down. He looked a bit puzzled, and then turned up and looked for a way down the side of the cliff. Soon, he sawsome odd looking white stone just ahead, forming some sort of tunnel. It appeared to turn and curve down, along the side of the cliff. Ragnar couldn't tell if it was man-made or not. It looked natural enough, although it seemed strangely smooth and too curved. But in the end, he decided to use it. He walked forward and began to move down.

The youth found himself in a downward spiral as he did this. It seemed the path naturally curved down, through this odd white stone. Not only that, but there were periodic breaks along the way, allowing Ragnar to look out and see the ground slowly get closer to him as he descended. It was odd. It seemed both manmade and natural… Yet in the end, he did come out and touch down on the ground. This was odd too. It was white and filled with smoothed, flattened stones. It was like some sort of river valley… Once down, he turned and looked back up the way he came.

Ragnar gasped, sending an echo throughout the entire valley. He hadn't passed through a rock formation. He had passed through what was a gigantic shell. It was massive, easily a hundred feet high. It had been worn down with age and was cracked in many parts, but it still bore its circular design and large spikes. A mollusk of this size hadn't walked Gaia for thousands…perhaps even millions of years. It astonished him. And in the dim light of the day…it unnerved him. He was in a narrow valley now, and he was alone. The birds and insects had stopped. All was quiet except for the wind. He began to grow fearful, visualizing that some of these great creatures might still live here…

Ragnar thought of turning back, but it was too late. He wouldn't risk going back up that shell. What more, in spite of his fear…he felt something inside him. He almost felt…drawn ahead. As if something inside him was leading him further down the valley. And in the end, that feeling won out. He turned and began to walk on down the valley once more.

The sun was lowering fast now. The shadow of the cliffs on either side pressed in. Yet Ragnar went on. He was growing tired now…but now he was also excited. As he walked along the ground, the stones became more regular and smoothed, and then became dipped inward. After going a bit farther, he realized that he was walking on a path. A path made out of more hollow mollusk shells. That gave him some comfort. Something intelligenthad to have built this then. Even that great shell was used for a staircase. But still, it was all ancient. Much of it was cracked and old. It was obvious that something hadn't lived here for centuries…perhaps even longer.

More changes continued, however. The paths began to break off and branch to different directions from the one Ragnar went down. And as they did, he began to see more giant shells. But these were placed at the ends of shell paths. They had large holes in them too. Ragnar recognized this…they were houses. Whoever lived here had made these shells into their homes. And there were a lot of them too. As he walked on the shell path, he saw the area around him grow smoother and smoother. The rocks became much flatter and broader…beginning to look almost like fungus rather than rocks. But everything was in a pale white color. It wasn't ghastly per say. In fact…Ragnar thought it was somewhat beautiful. It gave some sort of pure feeling to the area he was moving into. And as he saw more and more, his fascination grew and his fear diminished.

At last, Ragnar came to the end of the path. Just ahead, one path went south, another north, and a third west. He was coming in from the east now. It was dark outside now. The sky was purple and was fading to blue and black. Ragnar was tired. His limbs were sore from walking for so long, and he was ready to almost collapse from the strain. However, he turned his head north for the first real time that day to look at what he had passed. And on seeing it…he gaped in awe.

A city was there. A tremendous city…filling the entire valley. An entire ancient city of shells. Shell roads worked their way in and around the entire ancient metropolis. Buildings of great shells, and their ruins, were everywhere, spreading out to all places. The whole city itself looked like it was on a great white stone that was a shell itself, only this one was far larger. And beyond it, deep in the center, white trees grew. Tall and bare…they were as pale as the rest of the town. But Ragnar couldn't tell if they were living or dead. More stones rose around their base, forming a ring of fungus-like formations. But they were all pale as well, and only made the city look more grand and mysterious. It was amazing to behold. If that wasn't enough…deep within the heart of the trees, a pale light was shining forth…gleaming softly with a white radiance…beckoning Ragnar to come to it.

Now, Ragnar knew this place. This was the legendary City of the Ancients, the home of the Cetra in ages past. He had heard the legends growing up, but he had never thought he would be here. He had never thought it would be sogrand… It enraptured him. He had never seen anything like it, and he was astonished by it. And something inside him was attracted to it far more so than any other person in the world felt. It was so beautiful to him…so fascinating… As exhausted as Ragnar was, he couldn't leave it. He had to go in. Forcing himself on, he drove himself down the road to the north, toward the pale light. He had to see what it was.

Ragnar walked a good half of a mile into the city, down the long shell road. He passed by numerous shell ruins on the way as his footsteps alone echoed within the city. However, the wind still gently blew, and further ahead he heard the sound of moving water. Then, of course, there was the light…the white light that drew him on. And so, he kept going…drawing closer and closer. Eventually, he reached the grove of trees in the center of the town. Without fear, he plunged right into them and went on further and deeper into the wood, after the light.

At last, Ragnar came to a clearing. When he did, he drew to a halt and looked ahead. He had found the source of the light, among other things.

The light itself was coming through the white trees overhead. It was focused on one point and shining down. It was so white and pure…so radiant…that it looked almost to be a ray from Heaven itself. Ragnar could almost swear he found himself feeling warmer in that light. It shone down on a small pond in the clearing. This pond shimmered like glass as the light hit it, seeming to turn it into a shifting sapphire. And behind it all was the greatest shell yet. This one alone seemed spared of all the weathering and damage that the world had waged on the rest of the city. This one alone stood untouched and intact as a home.

Now that Ragnar was here, he felt comfortable and happy. He felt secure here. It was like the fear of New Shinra was a distant dream, of no more constancy than a passing nightmare. Here, all felt safe and well. And as he felt that, Ragnar realized just how tired he was. Walking this far into the city had drained him of the last of his strength. He needed to rest now. And currently, the best shelter seemed to be within the house up ahead. Without another thought, he rounded the side of the pond and walked through the entrance.

It wasn't stone at all inside. It was paneled with wood and other fixtures, so that it was a true home within and not just an empty shell. Wood railings were built in around the natural curve, and logs had been put in for steps. It was remarkably preserved, but Ragnar knew that it hadn't been lived in for years either. At any rate, he was too tired to care or observe anything else about the room. He merely walked in, nearly stumbling, and spotted an old chest inside. He walked up to it, and opened it up. Luckily, there was a blanket within. Pulling it out with one last tug, he wrapped it around his body, dropped onto the floor, and fell asleep almost immediately.


The next morning, Ragnar didn't wake up until close to noon. That was when the sun had moved through the sky enough to shine through the window and right in his face. Only then did he moan and shift slightly where he was, and then crack his eyes open. He winced immediately in the light, and then rolled back to get out of it. After stretching once, he disregarded the blanket and rose to his feet.

The youth took a moment to crack his neck and steady himself, then looked down to what was around him. Obviously, though this city had not been in use for some time, someone more recently had to have tried and lived in it. The person who owned the chest and blanket probably had been there no more than forty years ago. However, he didn't think of this long. His attention soon turned to the rest of the chamber, and what was in it that he had missed last night. Rounding the rim of this house, opposite the inner railing, was a row of what looked like bowls. Some of them were dim, but others had some sort of green light in them. He wasn't sure what it was exactly. It didn't look like a fire…maybe it was a trick of the light overhead. That was why he hadn't seen it last night.

Most importantly, however, he saw something near the door. On a small stand just inside of it was an orb. However, it shone brightly. Something inside it was generating light. Ragnar was amazed. It couldn't have been a fire or a candle. It had to be something else entirely…but what? He didn't know, but he had heard that many strange things existed in the City of the Ancients. He stared at it a moment, but then began to approach the orb. Once he was at its side, he paused and looked down on it. He stared curiously…but then attempted something. He slowly and carefully reached out to it…and very gently put his fingers on it…

Ragnar was greeted by a sharp stabbing pain in his skull as a result. Crying out, Ragnar pulled his hand back like it was burned and pressed it to his head. He winced and recoiled.It took a few seconds to let the pain subside, but then he breathed slowly and straightened up again. He looked back to the orb with a frown. Something had happened when he touched it. It felt…it felt almost like there was a rush of something into his skull, like something had tried to enter it. But it came too fast, and it put him in pain instead. Shaking his head, and casting one last sour look to the orb, Ragnar looked away and to the exit. Soon, he was walking through the door and out into the daylight.

Once the youth was out, he stretched. It felt good outside. It was much warmer, and the white light shining down made him feel fresh and alive. He still heard only silence here, but it didn't unnerve him anymore. It just seemed like it was natural for this place to be silent. And besides, he did feel safe, especially in this grove. He relished the sun for a brief moment, drinking in the light and fresh air.

However, he soon relaxed. Now that he was awake, he needed to start thinking of something to do. He was safe here for now. But if he was going to hole up in here for a while, then he needed food and water. He felt thirsty right now, and that was the more pressing concern. He could hunt for food a bit later. Luckily, he looked ahead just past the shell railing of his house, and found the beautiful sapphire pond was right there for the drinking. He began to walk down the steps of his house toward it, intended to get a big gulp.

Yet as he approached, he took another look at himself, and frowned. He was still stained with soot, grime, and the refuse of old sewage and rat poison. Today, he was starting to stink, and he could smell it. It was a wonder he had managed to get through yesterday. Thank goodness for the all-concealing uniforms. Your best friend could be in one of them and standing right next to you, and you'd never know if they didn't say anything. However, he wasout now, and had to live with himself and his stench. First things first…he wanted a bath.

Ragnar kept walking until he touched the side of the pond. Once there, he began to take off his boots and strip. The smell got worse as he did so, only accentuating his desire to bathe. This would feel good too. No doubt, the water was cold, but Ragnar didn't mind. He was, what one might call, a member of the "polar bear" club. He had used to dive into icy lakes in winter. His mom constantly told him he'd die one day from it, but he still enjoyed it. He was very resistant to cold despite his thin frame. No…this water would feel very good. His muscles were still sore, and he still had injuries from where he had been beaten last. This would be nice.

The young man finished stripping off all of his clothes, and then stood up and walked over to the pond edge. He didn't worry about being nude here. There was no one for miles, after all. After that, he swung his arms up and back a few times, clapping his hands as he did so. Then, on the third time, he crouched down, leapt, closed his eyes, and dived into the water.

Cool liquid brushed past Ragnar's face. He plunged himself deep down into the water, going all the way to the bottom. It felt great against his soreness. The pain was washed away and gently bathed in the pure liquid. He slowly kicked as he continued to dive, opening his mouth and drinking in some of the wonderful fluid as he continued to fall. For a moment, he felt truly at peace. This was the life, it seemed. Out here, alone, away from the New Shinra, and having a lovely pool all to himself…

Ragnar felt his hands touch something. He expected to push forward and touch stone. By now, he had to be at the bottom. It couldn't be that deep. However…as he pushed in…he stopped. What he was pushing…didn't feel hard. It felt soft…and it gave a little underneath him. The youth hesitated. Slowly, he opened his eyes to see what it was.

The young man nearly screamed underwater.

He had just touched a dead body.

Lying at the bottom of this lake, hands calmly folded over a bloody stabbing wound that had plunged through her chest, long brown hair splayed over the ground, was a woman's body. And she was quite dead. She had been put here obviously as her final resting place. She looked far too at peace and prepositioned to have drowned there. But nevertheless, Ragnar turned white. A corpse…he had just touched some drowned corpse at the bottom of a pool…had been drinking the water she had been rotting away in…

And yet…as Ragnar looked up to her and saw her face, he was puzzled. In truth, she didn't look all that rotted. In fact, she didn't look it at all. Even her face wasn't that pale. It still bore a faint twinge of pink in it, from when she had been alive. And despite the gory fashion in which she had died, the woman appeared to be perfectly at peace. Her eyes had gently closed, and a faint smile was still on her lips even in death.

Her face…

Her face…was honestly perfect. Not only had time not altered it since she died…she was beautiful. A very beautiful woman in fact. Her hair was still healthy and moving through the water gently, as if it was in a breeze. Her smile…was still so warm and inviting. She seemed so innocent and pure…as if she wasn't really dead. It was as if she was sleeping beauty almost…resting at the bottom of this lake…waiting for her prince charming to come forth and wake her from her dream… Smiling pleasantly and fairly, awaiting the day where she could awaken at last…the picture of timeless loveliness as she waited…

Abruptly, Ragnar froze and snapped out of these thoughts. To his surprise, he realized what had happened. He now hovered an inch in front of the dead woman's face.

…He was about to kiss her.

That did it. Shocked and appalled at himself, Ragnar turned his head back up and tore up through the water, back for the surface. He left the body far below at the bottom of the pond. Once he was back to the surface, he broke through and gasped. Quickly, he grabbed the side of the pond and threw himself out onto the shore. Once he did, he began to spit and wipe away at his mouth and face.

What had happened to him in there? That woman was dead…and she had to have been dead since at least yesterday when he arrived. And he had been in there…bathing in her water…drinking it…and, last but not least, he had tried to kiss her. Why had he done that? How could he have done that? Something about her…something entranced him. It was as if she was still alive…she didn't look truly dead. But she wasn't breathing…her heart had stopped…her heart was in two pieces, it looked like, based on the wound. Yet staring at that face…it had almost bewitched him. He had lost himself in it…

Ragnar grit his teeth and shook his head. Who was she, anyway? Why had she been run through? And why was she here of all places? Her clothing had been rotting away. It had been there a while. But her…she was still fresh. Ragnar wondered if she would have been still warm if he had touched her. He didn't know… He didn't know why she was there or what was going on.

In the end, Ragnar managed to come to. He steadied his frantic breathing, and sat on the ground a moment to collect himself. Alright…that pool was off limits now. No drinking and definitely no bathing. He would have to find another spring and wash himself off. Then, he needed to get some food. After that, he would plan what he would have to do next. Quickly, he shoved the image of the woman out of his mind and rose to his feet, to start walking and find a new place.

It would not be the last time that he would find himself shoving the image of that woman out of his mind.


There was little to eat in the City, as it turned out. Not even grubs ran around inside of it. Ragnar in the end had to move a little into the forest on the outskirts before he could find a rock which harbored beetles underneath it. Not exactly the tastiest thing in the world, but beggars and death row escapees couldn't be choosers. There were a few berry bushes in the forest, but he wasn't sure if they were poisonous, and currently he was scaring off any animal that might come along to prove it or not.

Luckily, there were other streams in the city. And because of that, Ragnar was able to wash again and drink without fear of what was in the water. After doing that, he started making himself a set up. Apparently the City had housed a number of people decades ago, because there were still bits and pieces of modern equipment hanging around in some of the shell houses. One place even had a usable bed. However, Ragnar hauled this part over into the main shell house. He felt…more at peace there. Once he had a good area to dwell in for a little while, he decided to go exploring around the City a bit.

It was rather large and sophisticated. It constantly held Ragnar in awe. In the daylight, there was no unnatural glow here, but he still marveled at the architecture and shape of the city. It had to be among some of the most ancient ruins on the Planet, and yet it looked so…natural. There was so little in the city that had been manmade. Everything was adapted from shells, it seemed. Wandering around the streets, he passed through every shell house and explored everywhere. Frequently, he saw more of those white orbs like he saw in his own place. He didn't bother touching these. He just continued to move around.

At last, Ragnar made his way back to the front of town. From there, one unexplored branch led to the west. Having not gone that way yet, Ragnar decided to follow it. It was soon obvious this road wasn't like the others. It took him on a wide swing away from the main city. As he moved along, he saw that there were only a few houses on this side. Most of it was just the long road that he himself was walking on now. It bore him almost a mile away from the city eventually, but he kept walking down it. He looked around, and still saw little that was new. The shape was still that of the rest of the city, with the white, flat stones and shells.

Eventually, however, Ragnar found the path taking him toward the cliff walls that formed the canyon where the City of the Ancients was located. As he walked onward a bit more, the ground began to grow a bit rough, until a large fissure split it to his right, forming another chasm and cliff.He paused for a moment and looked down. To his surprise, there seemed to be some architecture down there. It looked as if the ancient inhabitants had built their way there too. There was no way to readily get down there, however, and so he went back to the path and walked on.

After a few more minutes, however, he halted again. The chasm was deep now, and had split into the cliffs themselves. And just ahead, there was a great break in cliffs forming another valley. Spanning across it was a simple stone bridge, and it led into some sort of cave. Curious, Ragnar crept closer.

The youth eventually made it to the stone bridge. He looked down at it uneasily for a moment. There was no telling how old this thing was, and the drop would easily kill him if it broke. However…he once again felt that bit of curiosity in him. He felt something…compelling him to continue. He clenched his fists and stared a bit longer. But then, he leaned forward and planted his foot down on the bridge. It held, solid as a rock. He hesitated again, and then put his other foot on it. Still nothing. At last, he did something a bit crazy. He leapt up and jumped down on it. Not the slightest shifting. It was as stable as the ground. Seeing that, he felt assured. At last, he looked up and to the cave entrance. Now, that held his full attention. It made him slightly nervous…though he didn't know why. It wasn't dark. On the contrary, he could see a lot of natural sunlight inside, meaning the interior had to have no roof. But still…it unnerved him. Yet in the end, he pushed it aside. He rushed across the rest of the bridge, and plunged into the cave.

Only a few feet into it, Ragnar stopped again. A new marvel had enraptured him.

He was in a new area…some sort of great entry hall or ampitheater of some sort. Much of it was still made with giant white shells, but from where he was he saw signs of man made technology too. He was on the upper level of some place. Ahead of him, the path made a large ring going around the top of this area. Columns and supports stretched out and held it to the ceiling, while part of the ceiling was in turn held up by it. This ring was only about halfway complete. In the parts that were missing, there were other levels, leading to other areas outside at different heights, allowing people to go in and out. Below the ring, far down to the ground, was an interior lake. The water was clear and beautiful, and Ragnar could look down and see the long flat stones in it. Overhead, the day's sun seemed to be magnified in here, focused into this area to illuminate its greatness. Every move that Ragnar made echoed loudly.

The youth began to slowly walk into this area, hearing his footsteps echo throughout the great, empty theater. It was bright and white in here, and looked more sacred and ancient than anywhere else he had been thus far. However, as he made his way to the ring to look down at the ground below, something new caught his attention. A pillar was rising out of the ground into the center of this theater. Itflatteron top, spreading out to form a wider area to stand on. Suspended here, in some bowl shaped area rounded by what looked like stone branches, was a beautiful, cone-shaped crystal. It refracted the light from overhead, making it sparkle with all the colors of the rainbow. It was marvelous to behold. It was like a rainbow crystallized. Ragnar hesitated and stared at it for a while, watching all the colors dance as the sun slowly moved through the sky.

Then, he noticed something. There was a stone bridge leading to this cup-shaped area. It was connected to a ledge nearby, and that ledge was connected to the ring Ragnar walked on by a stone staircase. Seeing that Ragnar could get closer, he immediately took off around the ring, like a kid running to a toy store. He made for the ledge so he could get closer to this.

Ragnar couldn't really understand why he was so amazed here…but this world entranced him. Seeing this marvelous ancient city built around him, built before people even knew how to build things… It must have been a fantastic world in its day. How it must have looked before it had died…and how the people there must have lived. He knew little about the Ancients, but from what he did know was that they were totally in tune with the Planet. Its own life force seemed to course through them, and they seemed to understand it and respond to it. That was enough for Ragnar. The idea excited him. Ragnar had always been much of a naturalist, just like most of the people in Icicle Inn were. They wouldn't have turned down a mako reactor if they hadn't been. But he…he appreciated it both in life and death. He had heard that the reason Icicle Inn was snowbound year round was because of the Great Crater to the north…that it was some sort of wound to the Planet that took the life from the area around it to heal it. This was a reminder of how fragile nature could be. And yet…even thinking of the great planet healing, just to the north of him…thinking that his cold environment was a result of it…was intriguing to him. He had known in the past that the Ancients had something to do with this, but he didn't know what. Perhaps…just perhaps…he could find out. It looked like he had been the only one here in this roomin close to a hundred years, after all…

At last, Ragnar reached the stone bridge. He didn't check it this time, but just ran across. He didn't seem to care now. Once he was across, he drew near until the glow of the magnificent prism shown down on him. Here…he felt warm as the light touched him. Beneath him, it seemed almost to be glowing…blue. A soft blue color, despite the wide spectrum of light overhead. Of course, it might just have been the stone that now surrounded him. He marveled at the prism for a moment longer, then looked down to the bowl-shaped area he was on.

What Ragnar was standing on were runes…hieroglyphs…some sort of ancient writing. It was all around the bowl, written in large letters and small, impressed into the stone when it was made into this place. Unfortunately, Ragnar soon realized there wasn't much he could learn from all of this. He knew how to read enough to do his old clothing job, and he knew how to count and do math fairly well, but this was something a historian had to come and translate. He didn't know the first thing about it, or what any of it could mean.

With a slight frown, disappointed at his let down, Ragnar sighed. He crossed his legs and sat down and then propped his head up on his arms. He exhaled, and then looked down and around again for a moment, looking over the indecipherable runes.

However…his eyes soon caught something. When he saw it, he immediately raised his head and leaned over a bit to get a better look at it. It seemed, that just below one of the series of runes, someone had translated a bit of them. Two simple phrases had been hastily scrawled.

Even sunlight can't reach. Key.

Ragnar frowned again. What sort of translation was that? It didn't even make any sense. However, after a pause, he realized it was something. Maybe he could use it as a translation stone of sorts. He looked at the words again, and read them over a few times. After doing so, he looked up above them, toward the runes themselves. He tried focusing on the runes specifically, on the ones corresponding to the words. Then, he spoke aloud.

"…even sunlight can't reach…Key…"

Again.

Ragnar suddenly winced and reached a hand to his temple. A sharp pain had stabbed him in the head. He felt a splitting headache suddenly ripple through his brain. The youth looked agonized for a moment…feeling the pain continue. But through it all…he was confused. Did he…just hear a voice?

Again.

The pain continued to flare up, and it hurt. It was so bad that Ragnar grit his teeth and grasped his brow with his hand. He felt something inside him…some sort of strange growing compulsion. Something…wanted him to read the runes again. Read them? He wasn't truly reading them. He just repeated what they were supposed to say… However, the pain was too strong. It was getting worse. He looked down, looked over the runes, and repeated the message.

"…even sunlight can't reach…Key…"

Again.

The pain stabbed harder. Ragnar cried out mildly in pain, feeling it stab him. He grit his teeth, struggling to hold it back. He looked again to the runes, and spoke again.

"…even sunlight can't reach…Key…"

Again.

The headache doubled. Now, Ragnar raised his other arm and grabbed his forehead. It felt like it was on fire now. He was in so much agony he could barely focus. What was doing this? What was happening to him? He was nearly to the point of screaming now…but this time he looked just to the runes themselves. And as he did, he looked over them once more and screamed.

"…even sunlight can't reach…Key…!"

Again.

Ragnar couldn't take it any longer. Whatever this was…it was killing him. Yet the impulse to read didn't die. Something inside him continued to push…harder and harder… It wouldn't be denied. The agony was nearly throwing him to the ground. In his pain, he grew furious. He screamed out again as he looked over the runes one more time…

"…where even sunlight can't reach…Key…!"

At last, the pain subsided a little. As it did, however, Ragnar froze. It wasn't from the pain subsiding though. He forgot about the pain. Now…his eyes widened. He looked back again over what he read. Had he just say that out loud? He realized he did. He had to…because as he looked back over the runes before him, without any translation…he recognized another symbol all on his own.

Again.

Ragnar blinked a moment. His mouth hung open. However, he looked it over again…and the words just flowed.

"In…where even sunlight can't reach…Key to…"

The pain subsided a bit more, and Ragnar, in further surprise, realized he understood more symbols.

Again.

"In a…where even sunlight can't reach…Key to…sleeps."

Again.

"In a place where even sunlight can't reach…Key to…eternal sleeps."

Again.

"In a place where even sunlight can't reach, the Key to the Ancients eternal sleeps."

The voice did not appear again. The pain was gone by now. But Ragnar forgot both about the voice and the pain. He looked over it again… He had read it. Somehow, he knew what it meant. He had kept reading it…and the meaning had suddenly come into his mind. And now, he understood it. Was this possible?

Ragnar was stunned. What had happened? Was he making this up? He blinked and looked around, stunned. At last, he turned to another set of runes. These were different. He looked them over and spoke aloud…and the words immediately were processed and put out from his mouth.

"In the time where chaos threatens the land, the faithful must pray for Holy to appear."

The youth blinked. He turned to another.

"No one must ever enter the Temple, or disturb the secrets that lie within."

Then another.

"I Raeoon, last Chieftain of the Cetra, do establish this vestibule in the year 127 of the Fourth Age…"

Ragnar looked all around him, not believing it. But he could see it. He saw it all. Every rune…every scrap of writing…there wasn't a passage on the whole platform he couldn't read. Was he going crazy? Was he imagining this? It didn't seem so. Each time he went over a long passage and went back, it always said the same thing. The few words that had been deciphered matched everywhere else where Ragnar saw them. Everything. He could understand everything. Every word was as clear to him as if he had been learning to read it his whole life…

This…this is impossible…

Ragnar rose from the ground and immediately ran back across the bridge. He ran around the ring and back out the way he came, leaving the crystal and its chamber far behind. He went back onto the shell road and ran down it as fast as he could go. He ran all the way until he came to one of the shell houses. Once there, he immediately turned for it and ran in. It was a ruin inside, but the glowing white orb was still in the front door.

The youth swallowed a moment, looking uneasy, but then…he reached out, and very tentatively touched the surface.

There was no stabbing this time.

I, Saerican, last member of the house of Stoon, leave this record for future generations. The complete history is stored within, from my earliest ancestor to the present day. This story begins ages ago, back when the legendary missing continent still existed. Stoon came from there. He was born to…

Ragnar slowly pulled his hand off. It was true. He could understand it. He could understand all of it. Whatever that voice was…whatever it had done to him…he now could read everything. He looked around him, into the house and outside. There wasn't the slightest misplaced rune or piece of graffiti he didn't recognize. He understood their language, their ancient dead language…the language of the Ancients…no…

The language of the Cetra.

Ragnar looked around a bit more, marveling at this. He raised his hands to his head and touched it, as if somehow the knowledge was on the exterior of his skull. He gained his bearings for a moment. But then…he felt himself start to laugh. It was the first time he had laughed in three years…but he felt like doing it. He felt like sounding it out loud and long, and filling the City of the Ancients with it. He felt happier than he had in a long time. He held his arms to the sky and continued to laugh, letting it go far down the road and throughout the ceiling. At last, he fell back and went flat against the ground. But even there, he continued to laugh in new joy.

He didn't know how it happened, but it had happened. And now, he knew an ancient language that no one in Icicle Inn had the slightest idea how to translate. Perhaps…no one in the world. All of the secrets and history of the City of the Ancients were open to him. The whole story, having lain hidden for generations…had opened up to him. He had hoped he would learn something about them, but never did he believe that he would gain so much. Now, he could learn everything…every last thing about the entire city, its history, and its people. It was all there, literally lying in safe codes for him to read.

Ragnar finally managed to stop laughing, and got his bearings back. This was fantastic for him… a miracle. And he didn't intend to waste it. Quickly, he rose back to his feet. It appeared his room was going to have a few more fixtures in it soon.


It was close to midnight when Ragnar was finally able to go to sleep.

He had managed to catch a fish at last in one of the streams. No one came from Icicle Inn who didn't know how to easily and quickly start a fire. It was an easy matter for him to cook it with little tools on hand and then eat what he could. However, by that time, he could barely sit down long enough to do this. He had been running around town, getting as many orbs, scrolls, tablets, or anything else with Cetra writing on it that he could find. He wanted to know everything…everything about this city and its people. He wanted to find out all about what was lost to time. Once he had gathered plenty, he had went back to his room, picked up the orb from this house, and went to work.

Ragnar had chosen well. The orb for this house contained a detailed history of the city itself, and of the Planet itself. At least…since the beginning of the "Third Age". Ragnar still wasn't sure what these ages were, in particular the first two which appeared to have no recordsand almost noreferences, but he knew that the Third Age was the age of great beings which the Cetra had called espers.

Ragnar dove into the history. These people, the Cetra, were like some sort of super human. They were people born naturally in tune with the Planet. They could hear its voice constantly talking to them, enabling them to feel and sense the life flowing between all living things. In times of need, they could call on that power as well. They didn't treat Gaia as some giant abiotic resource for exploitation. They treated it as a great organism itself, and tried their best to live in peace with it. They were so naturalistic and peaceful, so in tune with the Planet, that legends said this city itself was built by the Planet to house them. And here they prospered for generations. They were a very calm and kind race, gracious to all living things, and appreciating the innate beauty of all life. Ragnar, after having spent three years with some of the worst examples of humanity, greatly admired them. They entranced him even more now, now that he knew who they were. It seemed to be so wonderful…to be able to actually talk with the Planet. He was envious, wishing that he had that ability.

However…what truly attracted Ragnar were the espers.

They were great beings that had long since passed into myths among humans, but the Cetra always believed in them. Like the Cetra, they were supposed to be children of the Planet, although the Cetra arose in the First Age, and the espers arose in the Third Age. Great and powerful…immortal and wise…these creatures were the picture of beauty and power. They ruled the world for thousands of years in a great mountain city they called Terratopolis. While most other people would have dismissed these stories as simple legends, Ragnar wasn't among them. He believed it, and he enjoyed reading about it.

The one he loved most of all was Great Bahamut, Lord of All Dragons, King of All Espers. He had been a dragon far larger and more powerful than all other dragons. For thousands of years, he ruled over the espers. His power was without peer. He was the one who initially befriended the human and Cetra races, and held such affection for them that he destroyed a great tyrant named Griever to establish a world where humans were free to live as they choosed. From time to time, he appeared on the world to help it in a time of darkness. All of the great heroes of the Third Age, and even the Fourth Age, came to him for advice and council before setting out on their adventures. Ragnar daydreamed about the thought. To actually walk into the presence of this great esper…more ancient than any other living thing…have it tower over you and speak with it. Or even better, to see his legendary power in battle…

Ragnar very much wanted to read more about him, the rest of the espers, and the Cetra. Now that he had begun to learn, he wanted to know more. There was a world apart from him that had passed from time, and yet when it existed the Planet was a far more fantastic and magical place. And here, he could find out all about it.

With that in mind, Ragnar placed the orb aside, and then quickly lay down and tried to sleep. He wanted to fall asleep as quickly as possible, so that he could get up early tomorrow and read more. As he drifted off to sleep in the City of the Ancients, in his dreams the City came to life and filled with Cetra, and over it all the espers circled and watched.


To be continued...