I could have kept you all tied onto the bench waiting for the next chapter, but I'm too darn nice to torture anyone ;) And all you characters there in the corner, you shut up…

I'm glad you people like this and my other stories, I just want to thank you for the reviews ^_^ I have no idea how I come up with this stuff, it just comes around… well, I did get the idea of Edgar's situation in this chapter when playing The Legend of Dragoon, but I won't spoil it ;)

And if you think there are sudden plot twists now, just wait for the future chapters… this will get crazy! Mwaha!

Chapter 6, The Coliseum

Terra nervously ran her fingertips along the festive piece of cloth that was wrapped around her head to hide every last strand of her hair. As Clyde's face was unknown to the empire he had led the five of them inside, leaving Interceptor in the fields around the Coliseum as a dog of his size perhaps not was too uncommon in the arena, but they didn't want anyone bothering them about wanting to buy a fighter beast for the show. They didn't want anyone to have a reason look too closely at them.

"This'll never work…" Terra whispered to Clyde, who shook his head.

    They stood in a tight group in the middle of one of the crowds taking up two sides of the entrance hall. The reason that there were two crowds was simple. The emperor and his pack were entering.

    Entrance to the Coliseum was free, it was the seats that cost you. And no one came to the arena for anything but enjoy the show, or die.

    Relm had dyed her hair darkly brown with something she had gotten from Thamasa, Strago wore an eye patch and a hood to be a little better disguised. With new, mostly dark clothes they had gotten from the magic town's people they didn't look much like their enemies remembered them. Hopefully.

    Except for Gogo. His robes caught a few eyes, but many warriors these days – mainly from Zozo - had quite a strange taste of clothing and he was left alone as well. Besides, he wore lord Kefka's colors… people true to the empire sometimes did that when visiting the arena, it felt somewhat safe. At least then you could claim to admire the blood thirsty lunatic. It was stupid to the core, but there was safety in it.

    Now might be the last Returners' chance. Two nights of hidden camping in the fields had proven fruitful; the palace had landed to let its citizens enjoy another show.

    The problem was of course… all the soldiers. They were everywhere, wherever someone important to the empire was walking. Terra caught a glimpse of Gestahl's whitening hair and thought she saw a bit of Kefka's robe somewhere among all the brown uniforms. And between the Returners and the tyrants' side were a lot of innocent people as well.

    Even if they had dared to stand closer the warriors would have been pushed backwards anyway.

 "We'll have to hope for a miracle," Clyde grimly whispered.

    As if all Hell's forces had decided to crush all hope for humanity, some of the soldiers stopped just by the door.

 "Ah yes, allow me to give you a teaser for tonight's show," a shrilling voice cruelly chuckled.

    Terra shot a glance aside and saw Gogo's eyes widen slightly, as if he had received a blow.

 "We have a special treat for you all this evening," Kefka/Kerr went on with a smirk, "so make sure you don't miss it, everyone!"

    His chuckle pierced the air before he and all his guards disappeared through the double doors to the corridor leading to the seats.

 "I have a very, very bad feeling about that!" Relm whispered, trying to peek between all the bodies between her and the aisle.

 "Me too…" Terra mumbled in a hoarse voice, biting her lower lip before she could stop herself.

    The crowds began to move towards the gates. Fees were taken there, creating a wall that the Returners couldn't climb. They had no money for the seats.

 "Try to stay behind," Gogo's muffled voice muttered.

    Following his advice they let the people pass by them and then followed the mimic as he slipped in the opposite direction. There were gates by the sides of the room too, leading to a flight of stairs.

 "Think there are windows up there?" Strago muttered as they sneaked upwards.

 "Won't be the best view but it seems so," Gogo said in a low voice.

    When he talked like that the veil almost silenced him completely.

    Terra looked around to make sure nobody saw them. Didn't seem like it, everyone down in the hall was working on getting a seat.

    But a pair of warmly brown eyes coldly followed the group of five as they disappeared, eyes thin with hatred that no living thing ever could soothe.

 "Are you alright, Gogo?" Clyde straightly asked as the stairs ended.

    The top floor of the coliseum seemed to consist of a long corridor running around the whole building. It looked almost like a hotel. On the right side were doors upon doors, to the left windows. Dried plants and flowers stood in pots along the hallway.

    Not a human in sight. At the time all the people who had checked in here must have gone to the show.

    Silently the mimic walked over to the nearest window and glanced out. They were so high up that a clear view was impossible.

    That big platform in the rows of spectator seats must be the royal plateau… Gogo saw pretty well that there were a few throne alike chairs on it, but it was more a clever guess than observation.

    Something was moving towards the middle of the arena.

    Somehow, even if it was only a small dot, the mimic knew.

 'Kerr is in the arena…' he thought.

    And for some reason, that reflection almost had him shuddering. There was something utterly frightful with the thought, but he couldn't understand what it was.

 'Probably it's the fact that people are supposed to die there and I don't want him too…' he bitterly thought, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling.

 "Gogo?" Clyde said, gentler this time.

    The mimic almost jumped, returning to the world.

 "I'm alright," he assured, "it was just a bit of a shock to hear his voice again."

 "I see."

 "Now what do we do?" Relm grimly said, standing on her tiptoes to be able to look out at the view properly.

    She stood back and began digging in the shoulder sack she had used to normally only carry her art equipment in.

 "We can't get a clear shot like this," Clyde said in a hushed whisper, cautiously glancing around just in case.

    They all stiffened as they heard Gestahl's voice, magically boomed out over the entire area.

 "I welcome you all to the Coliseum this sunny, bright day ladies and gentlemen," he smirked, "and now allow me to give you a present, to the empire, from the Returners!"

    Terra's breath caught in her throat and everyone lunged at the windows. Relm tore out a pair of small field glasses from her pack and handed them to her father. He lifted them to his eyes and fiddled with the zoom, trying to get a clear view of the arena. Meanwhile Gestahl ended his speech.

 "Kefka, if you please."

 "What's happening?" Strago snarled as something that reflected the sun shot up in the arena.

 "It looks like a pillar of metal, Kef… Kerr is commanding it…" Clyde hissed, "it's opening… oh…"

    Even on the distance they all saw by the sun's glistening how the parts of the pillar fell aside.

 "Oh goddesses…" Clyde hissed.

 "What?" the others whispered.

    The former assassin's fingers clawed at the zoom as if he prayed that the field glasses were fooling him.

    Finally he gave up and his hands heavily fell.

 "It's Edgar…"

 "What?!"

    Terra snatched the binoculars and tore them to her eyes. Quickly changing the vision as her and Clyde's eyes were different she soon saw what he had seen. She thought her soul would leave her body right then and there.

 "I present to you His Majesty Edgar Roni Figaro," Kerr's voice smirked, heard by all, "freshly from his little rathole of a kingdom. His submarine castle wouldn't save him this time."

    The half esper shuddered as boos and catcalls rained over her friend's hanging head. He was strapped to a high cross, hanging high above the ground. But to Terra's weak relief it seemed that he was only tied stuck, not nailed onto the wood.

    His bare arms and chest were dark with halfway dried blood and bruises, she couldn't quite make out which was which.

 "Is he dead?" Relm whispered.

    Terra took in a deep breath.

 "I don't think so," she finally mumbled, "but it doesn't look good…"

    Feeling somebody's hand on her shoulder she handed the binoculars over to the next user, finding that one being Gogo. They all saw him aim his sight slightly lower than Clyde and Terra had, and they understood.

 'Why do I put myself through this?' he bitterly thought as he followed Kerr's walk until he disappeared behind the wall and spectators, 'he just want me dead…'

    But some part far back in his head screamed in protest as he forced that thought through his mind.

 "Gogo," Strago gently said, trying to call him back to the real world.

    The mimic handed the glasses to the old man and shook his head.

 "I'm sorry I'm acting like this, everyone," he bitterly muttered, "he's just brought me off balance."

 "Look, don't feel bad, it's…" Terra began, when a loud bang from a gong made them all jump.

 "May the first fight begin," Gestahl declared, "I dedicate this battle to my dear fiancée, who decided to stay in the palace again."

 "His what?" the Returners choked simultaneously while the crowd cheered.

 "Are you all deaf?" a cold voice sarcastically said.

    An adamanchyt and a rhinox were let out in the arena and fiercely attacked each other far below Edgar while the tiny rebel group spun around.

    Leaning against the wall just above the stair was a man completely dressed in slick black clothes, wearing Shadow's mask. Brown eyes icily watched the Returners.

 "Locke," Clyde said in a low voice.

 "Fools."

    And with that he turned and disappeared down the stair.

    Terra wanted to call for him but didn't dare to as someone below could hear her.

    They stood silent.

    The rhinox died and the winner was brought into one of the many entrances along the circle wall of the arena. It would live another day.

    In the old fighters' place came a pair of bear creatures, but on the distance it was impossible to tell whether they were ipoohs or gold bears. Neither did the Returners find it very interesting.

 "He's going to kill the empress," Relm finally mumbled.

    Slowly her father and grandfather nodded.

 "He'll never live through that…" Terra whispered.

 "I don't think he cares…" Clyde bitterly said.

    Gogo said nothing, clenching and unclenching his fists.

    And in the arena the death continued beneath king Edgar's feet.

 "We can't just stand here!" Terra finally growled, unable to take it anymore, "there must be some way to save them both!"

    Clyde sadly shook his head.

 "Terra, I don't think Edgar will ever leave the arena alive," he bitterly said.

 "Oh, I wouldn't say that…"

    They all turned to Gogo, who let his eyes run over his friends with a mix of hope and bitterness.

 "… Since when have Kerr and Gestahl ever killed off such important prisoners at once?"

    He motioned at the arena.

 "King Edgar is still useful for them," he clarified, "as I understand they're having troubles with Figaro, correct? The king is the bait that can force the people out of their underground lair and Gestahl knows that well. This show is simply arranged to make sure the rebels hear of it."

    Pausing for a moment he shook his head.

 "But it's still a suicide mission, we'd have to sneak into the palace most possibly, there are too much people here. And no telling how many there'll be in there."

    Silence fell over them again. Then Strago suddenly spoke, with remorse but still.

 "Yet… the guarding can't be too heavy in this moment as almost everyone is here. And we have a psychopath clearing a way inside right now…"