Chapter 16, Rise the curtain
It was four am in the morning, but the guards on duty had heard the call. Hardly daring to hope, not after all that had been happening, they had gone to ask for ascending.
The chancellor had not been happy to be awakened at such a heretical time of the "day", but when hearing what he was called for he had ordered the movement of the castle immediately.
Had Edgar not stumbled down the gangway by own force – if on insecure legs – then the ship would have been boarded by the few inhabitants of the castle that had woken up. There were only half a dozen at first, but as somebody rushed back in to announce the news in a very loud voice, people streamed outside.
Edgar was literally being buried alive in his subjects, who were nearing ecstasy of joy of having him back. It was amazing that the desert didn't explode with budding flowers due to the pure happiness filling the air.
"Well isn't he the popular one?" Locke chuckled, standing on a safe distance on the Falcon's deck, "I don't remember them being that euphoric before…"
"Well, he's been gone for a few days, they tend to get itchy…" Sabin snickered.
His smirk died as somebody down in the mass shouted his name, turning a good deal of the crowd towards the Falcon.
"Aww damn…"
"Better go down there in order to save the rest of us from being killed by the mob," Terra calmly concluded and gave the body-builder a light shove towards the gangway.
"Traitor…" Sabin muttered but did as he was told, quickly reaching the ground. And being buried.
He moved through the somewhat gentle hugs and pressings of his hands until he reached his brother in the middle of the chaos. Edgar was smiling tiredly but with genuine happiness, trying to greet and calm ten cheering people at the same time.
"Well aren't we enjoying this?" Sabin mildly muttered, teasingly.
Edgar tried to reply, when a woman his brother clearly remembered as a priestess threw herself around his neck.
'Yes, he sure is…' the prince somewhat dryly thought, but with fondness, 'and he damn well deserves it.'
The king smiled, not a triumphant or flirting smile, but just joyfully and hugged the woman back. His expression didn't change when she moved off and immediately was replaced with another lady.
"Your Majesty!"
Edgar let go of the latest woman expressing her happiness to see him and took the chancellor's hands as the man finally made his way back to the middle. He had been among the first to greet the returned king, but had then been pushed away.
"How did you escape?" the older man eagerly asked once more, as he had done earlier without being allowed the time to hear the reply.
"The Returners…" Edgar smiled, rather out of breath.
He glanced over his shoulder at the Falcon and the smiling faces looking down at him. This helped him to somewhat regain his composure with the new strength his people had given him.
"We better try to sort things out, this isn't safe," he stated in a more collected voice, "Gestahl is still a threat and we don't know when they'll call off the search in the west."
The chancellor nodded, unable to swallow his joy despite the warning however.
"Of course, Your Majesty. How are you and the other warriors, we'll get you something to eat at once."
"We'd appreciate that, thank you," Edgar smiled with a soft sigh of relief.
Celes glanced around the meeting room, still frowning as she couldn't make peace with the idea that half of the people involved weren't there. After eating a refreshing and finally once again cooked meal of stew, the Returners had divided in those who would talk strategy in the resubmerged castle and those who would stay on the once more airborne Falcon in case anything would turn up. They couldn't afford risking the airship and it wasn't something you could hide just like that, being too big for an invisibility spell.
In the castle were Celes herself, Locke, Relm, Mog, Gau, Cyan and Edgar. The rest were guarding the Falcon – and the two youngsters of the group were there more because of their safety than anything else. Relm was stubbornly sitting straight in her chair, but her exhaust showed in her eyes. She was a strong girl, no doubt, but her young body couldn't take this seemingly endless amount of strain.
'And neither can I…' Celes allowed herself to admit, sighing almost soundlessly.
She was tired as well, even more now that she had eaten and was allowed to relax. The little sleep she had gotten during the night might as well just have been a dream. To point at Relm was just an excuse, she knew that. They were all tired, dark rings showing even around Cyan's stern eyes.
The magitek knight glanced at Edgar, who was listening to the chancellor with his head slightly bowed. It wasn't hard to know why.
"Please, Your Majesty," the man more or less pleaded, "the people needs you to be here to bring hope, we need you to lead us. Your capture almost broke all hope and will to fight, please don't take any risks!"
Edgar sighed and shook his head.
"I know chancellor, I know. But I'm needed out there as well," he said in a low voice, "if I sit here and hide in the castle, I won't be able to truly help anyone. I can't send people off to do the battling for me, I'm sorry."
He straightened up, resolve in his tired eyes.
"Gestahl must have had it spread out that I was captured, people come to the coliseum from all over the world. If I'm seen out there as free, it will crush the stories about my fall and that will bring courage to those who are too afraid to fight right now."
The chancellor sighed, but slowly nodded after a moment.
"I see… I don't like it, but I understand."
Celes found herself smiling faintly.
Once Edgar had been the king of a kingdom almost ridiculed for its strange placement in the middle of nowhere, but now… now had the hopeless flirt in a flash become the embodiment of the world's hope. He carried an immense weight on his shoulders, much heavier than his crown ever had been. But few would have been able to hold up as strongly as he did, used to dancing with the empire as he already was. The dance had grown in danger tenfold since that day when Kefka came to get Terra, however king Edgar wouldn't stop fighting for the lead.
The blond woman's smile dropped as the chain of thought ran onwards.
Yes, Edgar had the will to fight, and he had all of the Returners by his side. But would that be enough? Gestahl had almost all of the world's espers and that didn't even matter to him now that he was in control of the goddesses. With those he could crush any army, and at any given chance a ragtag group of guerilla soldiers such as the Returners. They were like insects to the empire.
But at least those insects were wasps.
If even that would be enough, that was another thing. Most probably they were more irritating than a threat.
She felt a touch and looked down, watching curiously as a bigger hand encircled hers. Her gaze wandered over the wrist and arms, reaching the shoulder and neck of the owner. Soon enough she looked into Locke's warmly brown eyes, now surrounded by darker areas. He was pretty pale but managed to smile a little at Celes, trying to encourage her.
Before she had even thought of being too tired to try she smiled back and nodded slightly, reading the wavering hope in the way he looked at her. They felt the same about the whole ordeal, and the last resolve was the ultimate.
Few have been irritated to death by insects, but it's damn well worth trying.
Together.
'Gogo, wake up!' Siren shouted.
Being awoken from sleep, even a light one, by a voice shouting inside of your brain is not very pleasant. And considering the mimic's normal relationship to mornings he was one single inch from shouting a few less well-formulated words at the esper, aloud. But she put up a wall against his anger, long enough for him to notice his brother.
The light was on, but very dim. It was just enough to see things fairly well, not more.
Kerr was sitting on his bedside, almost curled up in a fetus' position as he furiously rubbed his temples with somewhat mechanical movements.
'Did you do that to him?!' Gogo lashed out in rage as he hurriedly got to his feet.
'No!' Siren somewhat desperately defended herself, 'don't call to him, he's in pain!'
'I can see that, but what the hell is wrong with him?!'
The mimic was already moving towards his brother, quickly.
'I think it's an aftermath of his crack yesterday, the faults in his mind are glowing. I don't dare to do anything until I know what's causing it…'
'Terrific!'
Siren was taken aback by Gogo's anger, but at the same time she saw through it as fear.
"Brother…"
Carefully the mimic reached out and touched Kerr's shoulder.
The esper blinked, her own hatred wavering in hesitance as she watched the events unfold.
Kerr whimpered.
Whimpered?!
"Kef…"
He flinched as Gogo sat down beside him and reached around his back to the other shoulder. Carefully the younger of the two pulled his brother closer until Kerr leaned his head on the mimic's chest like a sick child seeking comfort in a parent's presence.
"Shh-sh-shhh…" Gogo murmured, "it'll be alright, just breathe deeply."
All that left the faltering man's lips was an incoherent mumble.
"What?" the mimic asked in a gentle voice, masking his worry as good as he could.
Kerr shook his head as if in confusion, his eyes darting from side to side almost like in fear. Once again he tried to speak, but failed.
Seeing no other solution Siren reached into the glowing mess that was the man's mind, even if the settled "tree trunks" now twisted like the tentacles of a wounded octopus. One quick touch, and she threw herself backwards with a shriek of pain that only she heard.
It burned? It burned her like acid just to briefly touch…
She flinched as she realized that if it hurt her, an outer force, to touch that mind, then what did Kerr feel? He didn't carry that pain in his head, the mind was in itself the pain and the mind is the person… Kerr was that tearing, burning, frothing hell.
Clutching her harp Siren fought not to mentally vomit. Something, somebody had created this within the man, created a torture chamber built up by the raping of a soul.
'This is not how it should be!' she screamed at the silent world of her existence, the horror at what she saw battling the twisting lust for revenge.
Yes, she wanted Kerr to pay for his crimes, had done so ever since the first time she had come in contact with him. He and those he worked with deserved judgment, but this was not how it was to be carried out! It was unnatural, it was detesting! If anything, this was his insanity and thus it would only make things worse. Looking at his agony it amazed Siren that Kerr hadn't turned himself inside out to escape it.
And was this the first time he went through this?
She bit her lower lip, turning away from the violently spiraling mess as it made her feel sick to look at it.
A mind is a beautiful thing, in essence. She knew that better than anyone.
And she couldn't allow what she saw right then, like an artist watching her masterpiece be torn to pieces and burned before her very eyes, a child desperately holding a dying kitten.
Slowly at first and with shivering fingers she held up her harp and ran her fingertips over the strings, creating a soothing melody that floated straight into the pained mess. The music slipped between the tentacles and seemed to duck away from all movements in fear at first, but as Siren became more resolute in her decision the notes also gained courage. The threads carefully coiled themselves around the trunks, caressing their unruly forms calmingly.
The esper closed her eyes and shuddered, but kept praying even though she became more closely bonded with Kerr through this than she had ever planned to be. When reaching out like this she felt what he felt through her magic, and finally she could grasp and accept Gogo's view of things. The acceptance wasn't willing, but there was nothing she could do about it as she unwillingly stared at the emotions that became bared to her.
Kerr was confused.
He was in pain.
And he was scared.
'No…' Siren whispered, almost in tears as her own feelings warred in her soul.
This couldn't be the "lord Kefka" they all knew! It had to be a lie!
It had to!
Please… Kerr couldn't be allowed to be this… human, this frail… weak and pathetic, clutching at his burning straws of reality. Not him, not that demon! This wasn't the man who scornfully threw away Ifrit and Shiva like so many espers before as their powers were gone!
Siren's hands fell. She curled up, shaking her head and too shocked to realize that she was almost mimicking Kerr's earlier position. What she'd seen was too obscure for her to digest.
But even as the music stopped it had already made it's work though it wasn't strong enough to last. It was just enough to give Kerr a short respite. He didn't understand why the torture subsided a little, but he could feel that it wouldn't be held back for long.
Insane and confused maybe, but a small piece of survival instincts was still preserved. At least now he could faintly remember how to talk.
"Bathrm… blue bottl… mirurgh…"
Gogo sharply looked down.
"Blue bottle in the bathroom? By the mirror?"
"Eesh…"
"I'll get it for you," Gogo calmingly promised and carefully helped his brother lie down beside the twisted blanket, "try not to move, alright?"
Kerr muttered something that sounded vaguely assuring. Either that or a sarcastic comment, it was rather hard to tell.
When he was sure that his brother could make it alone for a moment, Gogo quickly stood and hurried towards the smaller room. The door was one inch from slamming into the wall as he tore it open, but he managed to stop it just in time. Without slowing down a second he dived into the bathroom and frantically glared at the collection of pots and bottles.
'That one!' Siren weakly called pointed at a navy blue form in the outer ring of the mess.
'Are you sure?' Gogo hissed, his hand already gripping it.
'I don't think there's anything else that's blue…'
There was a dry clatter as the bottle moved, and for a second the mimic froze. Pills?
Just what the hell was it that Kerr wanted him to get, anyway?
'Hurry!' Siren urged in a hoarse voice, snapping him out of the trance.
Gogo spun around and dashed back to his brother without one single thought making it through the mess in his own mind. The flat lid of the bottle fell to the floor halfway through the room and the mimic nearly continued straight into the wall beside the bed before he managed to stop his run.
"How many?" he urgently questioned, cold sweat breaking through his skin as he stared at his brother.
Kerr stared back with a panicked expression, convulsingly curled up into a ball. Frightened eyes darted between Gogo's face and the bottle he held, as if the madman hadn't understood what his brother was saying.
Slowly Kerr's right hand left his chest and rose slightly, shaking like a leaf as the white-knuckled fist tried to straighten out. The tremble became more violent as the pointing and middle finger twisted out of the lump of constricted muscles.
"Two? One second…!"
Gogo turned the bottle and gave it a furious shake as its thin neck refused to let a flow like that through. Three clinically white pills made it to his palm, all perfectly round and not any bigger than a fingernail.
Something about them gave the mimic the creeps, but he shook it off and let one of them fall to the floor in his haste.
"Come on, open your mouth!" Gogo hissed, bending over his brother to get a grip of his shoulders.
Even as Kerr managed to get back into a sitting position he had to rely on support from the mimic; his body didn't respond to the weak commands of his almost lame brain. Heavily leaning against Gogo he fought just to force his jaw into action, a simple movement turned hellish as the inside of his head twisted with everything he tried to do.
Then suddenly the pain faltered a little again and he finally managed to open his mouth properly. Afterwards he fleetingly wondered why he somehow felt the image of a harp when that happened, but right then he could only focus on the two small items that Gogo without hesitation shoved past his front teeth.
With a tongue dry as a paper he couldn't wait for the pills to dissolve and frantically chewed them instead, the sandy powder gluing itself all over his gum and palate. Not good…
He fought not to cough as the grains tore their way down his throat, trying to get enough control to press a palm against his lips. A hand hit his back, not enough to really hurt but just forceful enough to help. At last a few drops of saliva broke through the dam in his dry mouth and the powder turned into a gooey liquid that Kerr could swallow properly. The taste wasn't pleasant but he didn't have any nerves left that could care about such a thing.
Siren silently watched as the medicine raced through the trembling body at speed that was on the verge of magical. The tangled mind began to move slower until it finally settled after a couple of minutes, bit by bit morphing into a more mind-alike landscape. But Siren didn't feel like taking a closer look at it, she'd have to move inside to see how it really was. Doing that in his current critical state wouldn't be a good idea however.
Gogo couldn't see Kerr's mind, all that he saw was that his brother started to relax, slowly but steadily getting his breathing under control. Minutes passed before he appeared calm enough for the mimic to dare releasing his tight grip of the shoulders he held.
"Feeling better?" he murmured after a few more moments had passed.
Kerr sighed deeply and nodded, without meeting his brother's gaze.
"Has this happened before?" Gogo asked, keeping his gentle voice as steady as he could.
"Not this bad…" Kerr muttered after clearing his throat, "I jus… urgh…"
He bent forwards a little, just to rub his forehead. Unknown to the two men Kerr's mind glowed, but it was just the death throes of the attack. Siren breathed out in relief, even if she was still shaking slightly herself.
Gogo glanced at the bottle that he had thrown on the blanket, reaching out to pick it up.
"Kerr…" he carefully began, "what are these?"
The slightly older man straightened up and idly looked at the bottle.
"For my head…" he murmured, "I loose control sometimes… Gestahl goes nuts when it happens."
He tried to chuckle dryly but didn't do well. Gogo's knuckles turned white.
"Gestahl?"
"How is your supply?"
"What are you so worried about my health for all of a sudden? I've got half a bottle left."
"I don't want any more incidents like the one when we obtained the statues, understand?"
"Gestahl gave you these?!"
Gogo was very close to shouting, but held himself back. It came out as a hiss instead.
Kerr rubbed his forehead again, a tiredly ironical smile touching his lips.
"He doesn't give them to me, but he knows I'm taking them," he muttered in a hazy voice, exhausted after the suffering he'd gone through moments ago.
The mimic's mouth opened, closed and opened again. Finally he made a quick chopping movement with both his hands, signaling that he meant to "cut facts straight".
"Kerr," he slowly said, "you take these because you might go berserk without them?"
"Yeah?" the lord lazily said.
"And if you don't take them regularly you also get these attacks?"
"Yeah."
"And Gestahl wants to make sure you do take them?"
"Yeah."
The bottle hit the mattress and Gogo pressed his hands against his face.
"Goddesses!" he groaned, frustration, anger and disbelief boiling in his voice.
"What?" Kerr grunted.
Gogo's hands fell away and he glared at his brother.
"Kerr, are you blind?" he growled.
A blond eyebrow went up in confusion.
Gogo sighed heavily and furiously waved with his arms.
"For heaven's sake Kerr, that was withdrawal!" he snarled, "you're being drugged!"
