Starting Over

Disclaimer: Please you all must know that I do not own FF9 or Kuja. I did though create his servant Gallery.

Chapter: Voiceless Puppet

Kuja brought his dragon to a halt, got off the lovely beast, and stroked its neck tenderly as Gallery got off the beast as well and stood by her master's side. Kuja whispered softly in Terran and waved the beast away for departure. Gallery watched her master with somewhat empty eyes. Kuja looked at her and his lips tugged into a smile as if she was an amusing sight to see. He walked to the cave, and Gallery trailed behind.

Inside the cave was utter darkness, until a flash of light flickered open, a little spell that Kuja knew well. He lighted the way, and then he suddenly paused momentarily just to see if his servant followed. He closed his hand and snapped his fingers once and the whole room lighted up to reveal torches on every side of the wall. Kuja playfully touched his walls and drew images with his index finger, making all sorts of shapes: triangles, circles, and little dots here and there, just for fun. And then an ominous air seemed to sweep across him for his face was oddly flushed with seriousness. He faced his servant and commanded, "Gallery, go make my bed, immediately!"

Galley nodded, and bowed politely, and was on her way. Kuja shook his head, and whispered, "If you can find my bed." Kuja watched the clay girl leave, or once clay girl, and sighed with pleasure and thought Oh, she is such a perfect creation. Hmmm, she seems a bit drained of common sense at the moment, but no matter. In due time…she will serve, understand, and become accustomed to her purpose. He walked to the end of a corridor and turned left, and saw a slender shadow on the right wall. He smiled as he turned around slowly to see who made such a shadow. Gallery made that shadow. He knew. He was mildly entertained to see his creation, his young servant move and thrive with life. He watched her closely, examining every aspect, and he enjoyed seeing her silky skin move swiftly and dexterously. I have done well in making her. She already knows what to do on my bed. Kuja reflected wordlessly.

Gallery folded Kuja's feather blanket and puffed up his pillows and straightened his bed from wrinkles. She added a few more good touches and stepped away from the bed, and curtsied. Kuja fondled about his feather blanket and propped his body slothfully on the bed, and stared at his puppet for a long time.

Kuja's View

She is so adorable. So perfect. She can trick anyone with one look of innocence. Zidane will never know what hit him. I get to live again. I won't try to kill the world this time. This time I will make sure I get a high seat on the throne. If not, at least get rid of Zidane. I sigh softly to myself as my clay little girl stood still. She watched me with those hollow pair of eyes. And I gazed back into them. I could do this for hours. I smiled quietly, she didn't seem to notice or care. I tilted my head to one side to look at her from another perspective. Looking down and made my way up. She has a small body, made to fit and lean onto another body. I looked at her white skin, and the few strands of feathers hovering above her head, and stretched my hand forth and called her to me. She lay down softly on the bed, the bed lowering because of our weights. She was empty of emotion, I knew that very well. She may be advanced, above those black mages and Zidane, but she is nothing until she learns how to feel. To do that I must let her think for herself, and not order her around, but I cannot do that! She is mine. I made her so I could be drawn to her, so she would listen only to me. I smiled again as I heard myself laugh within my own mind. I don't want her to blindly follow my orders; I want her to feel for me. I lifted my hand and touched her cheeks affectionately, "You are mine Gallery." She did not respond, she only shivered when I touched her. Was it fear that she felt for me as I touched her, or was it my cold fingers. I pulled away kindly and felt my own skin. It was cold. I carried my weight onto her; the strong force of attraction was so great I had to do it. I had to hold her. She did not scream, she did not call for help, as I slithered my way into her garments, but I couldn't do it. Those eyes held nothing, no feelings, but because of her emptiness I couldn't carry on my lustful act. Instead I just kissed her on the forehead, and whispered, "Gallery, my little servant. Can you do one more favor for your master for tonight?"

Gallery nodded robotically.

Kuja's View Ends.

Kuja carried her to her feet and smiled in a wicked manner, "I want you to entertain me by all means. Dance, sing, and play some magic tricks for all I care, but entertain me." Gallery bowed and her lips broadened into a gentle smile. She was like an angel. Like a toy, a little ballet dancer in one of those nutcracker shows. Gallery stood before Kuja who found a comfortable spot on his bed and watched her. Gallery moistened her lips and then Kuja waited patiently for her to sing with anticipation; he longed to hear her voice. Gallery's lips parted and then………..absolute silence. No sound came out from her lips….nothing. Kuja waited a bit longer, thinking she had some stage fright perhaps, but five minutes passed and Gallery's second attempt ended in the same results. No voice, no sound, she was mute. Kuja's face wrinkled together and his eyes widened, he practically ripped his bed to shreds as he got off the bed to face her. Gallery shrunk with her hands covering her eyes to block any damage.

Kuja held onto her hands fast, "You can't talk! This is absurd! Might as well be a mindless puppet if you can't talk!" Gallery took a few steps back and shook her head and fell to the ground. She was helpless in this situation.

Kuja yelled pushing chairs and priceless antiques down to the floor. Breaking everything in sight.

I know this ritual well! How can I forget to give you a voice? No, no, no! Everything is ruined!" Kuja stared at the little girl and clutched her neck, "You! You are a failure!"

Gallery looked at her master and shook her head frantically; her eyes for a moment were not empty. She seemed to be begging for mercy, for life, begging her master to not kill her. Kuja hesitated then. He unclenched his hand and calmed down, and maintained a very composed posture as he said with displeasure, "You can't speak….that is a fault in my part. I forgot to give you a voice. After all….when the black mages were made, machines made them not I. I started to make a few, but then…it required too much magic for mindless puppets, so I let machines to do my bidding, but you….you are different. You can feel, and understand. You can taste and see and hear. You are mine. I won't let a minor setback arouse my anger."

Kuja sighed again, "If I did kill you, I can never make another; magic clay is a rare item. Impossible to find, making it even harder still. So don't worry Gallery, I won't hurt you. You mustn't fear your master."

Gallery lay half on the floor and the other half of her body leaning on the wall. She shook with fear, she was very pale, her hands on her neck. She looked at her master in anguish, confusion now in her eyes. She felt.

He looked away and saw the evening light begin to fade into darkness.

Pardon me for not updating. Writing is tough work! And now...could you just click on the "submit review" button and review. That would be nice.