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Chapter Nine: Garden of Gods
The four left Kohlingen in silence early the next morning. No one dared bring up the topic of the previous night's events lest they awaken painful demons of the past. The Figaro brothers had inquired around town about sightings of Terra, and it was said she was seen heading southeast towards Zozo. Unfortunately, the group had to travel far south to pass around the extensive mountain range.
Locke seemed to gradually return to his usual jovial self the farther from Kohlingen they got. Celes, though, appeared to be withdrawing even more. She would often walk apart from the other three, usually staying ahead of them because of her keen sense of direction and uncanny instinct for danger. When they stopped their trek for the evening, she would even sleep away from the campfire, preferring the comfort of the cold and isolating darkness of night.
Feeling the urgent need to find Terra as quickly as possible, they stopped in Jidoor only for supplies and one night's rest. They asked around about sightings of the half Esper, but no one had seen her, so the group rented chocobos to hasten their journey to Zozo.
The closer they got to the destitute city, the darker the sky became. Ominous clouds highlighted by flashes of lightning loomed over the Zozo, and the sound of thunder could be heard in the distance. About a mile out, it started to drizzle, gradually becoming a moderate rain shower, prompting them to don their cloaks.
The city that never sees the light of day appeared deserted at first glance. The shops, pub, and inn were all run down and abandoned. Trash and several rotting corpses littered the streets, though thankfully, the constant downpour washed away the otherwise guaranteed stench. Upon closer inspection, however, it could be noted that shadowy figures lurked in the shadows, watching the newcomers with great attentiveness.
"I don't like this," Celes said, strangely out of character. "Something doesn't feel right."
"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Locke assured her, more out of habit than anything.
Celes fought the urge to scoff in disgust. "My hero," she instead replied derisively.
She noticed a mousy-looking man loitering near the alley they were passing by. Deciding to ask him about any sightings of Terra, Celes called to the others.
"You guys go on ahead. I'll catch up in a minute."
"I don't think you should go off alone," Locke protested.
"Just go, I'll be fine."
Her tone did more than suggest they shouldn't argue, so though they were hesitant, the guys nevertheless continued on while Celes spoke with the Zozoan. A block later, the three found themselves surrounded by a rag-tag dozen of thieves and cutthroats. Their clothes were torn and dingy, but their knives were sharp and pointy.
Sabin brandished his claws. "What do you want?"
The reply was a malevolent chuckle from the lot of them.
"We don't want to fight, but we will if we have to," Edgar warned.
Another amused chuckle circulated through the rough gang until one of them stepped forward.
"Oh, we don't want to fight. We just want to have a little fun."
Another figure approached. "Hey! You want to play? Play with me."
Locke groaned and shook his head. "Celes…"
The thieves turned to meet their challenger, and laughed at the sight of the 'meek' little girl they found before them. The leader gave her a lingering once-over, but only the Returners recognized the dangerous glint in her eyes.
"Well, hello there, miss. Interesting proposition." He chuckled, a devilish smirk creasing his face. "What'll that cost me?"
A wicked smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Your life."
Half the band rushed her without a second thought, leaving the three Returners against much better odds. Celes didn't even flinch as the six attackers closed in. When the first was upon her at a dead run, Celes ducked down and barreled into his abdomen, flipping him effortlessly over her shoulder.
Not even drawing her blade, she let herself fall back on instinct, trusting her years of training to guide her through the assault. Amidst their own battle, her companions caught flashes of the wildcat fighting with a cold darkness rivaling the shadows, colored by the slightest tinge of hidden rage. They even spared a precious moment of thought to wonder where this sudden fury came from, and why it surfaced now.
Within minutes, only the leader of the band and one other stood against her, the others thrown to the cold wet stone, struggling to rise. She ducked under the leader's swing and jutted her right leg backwards into the stomach of the other, sending him down. A final uppercut to the leader's jaw rendered him out of the fight. As he dropped to his knees, Celes took his head between her hands and twisted it sharply.
At the crack that sounded, and the body slumping to the ground, everything but the rain fell silent. Those who had been poised to strike their opponent stilled their hand mid-air and turned towards the unfortunate one. And those who had been knocked down slowly got to their feet, their eyes fixed on the limp body.
"Gods, she…sh-she killed him," one Zozoan sputtered.
The fatal violence and the ease of its passing were not anticipated by the thieves, especially not from the traveler they presumed least dangerous. Now, not a single one of them dared tempt his fate to avenge his fallen accomplice. As quickly as they had come, the band scattered back into the shadows, leaving yet another corpse in the deserted streets for the rats to scavenge.
Death was not taken lightly by the Returners. The act of taking a human life was a troubling, if not still foreign concept to them. Even Imperial soldiers were looked upon as the unfortunate men used as pawns trapped by the emperor's warmongering, and their slaying was avoided if at all possible.
"Celes…?"
Not sparing the lifeless form a second thought, she brushed past Locke and started for the southern part of town. "I know where Terra is."
((ooo))
"Are you sure Terra's up here?"
"The guy claimed to have seen a bright light flash at the top of this building."
"And you trust him?"
"Only one way to find out."
After scaling numerous flights of stairs, as well as the daring jumps between buildings, they finally reached the top floor. They walked cautiously down a long corridor lit by torches, where the carpet was of an ornate design, and on the walls hung elaborate pieces of artwork. The decoration was surprising, considering how run-down the rest of the city was.
Suddenly, the corridor opened up to reveal an impossible scene: rolling grassy plains under clear skies and warming rays of sunlight. A gentle breeze made the grass and colorful flowers sway to its caress. A large stone pedestal was the only break from the infinite meadow, and atop it lay a bizarre, yet familiar pink form.
"Terra…" Locke whispered.
"What is this place?" Sabin wondered. "How is this possible?"
"There are powers at work," a mysterious voice began, "beyond your wildest imaginations."
The four warriors immediately reached for their weapons.
"Please, do not be alarmed." An old man materialized from the lush green backdrop. "I am no threat to you. On the contrary, I believe I can help you."
The man had a long white beard and a staff of old knurly wood. He had a gentle aura, and his eyes glittered with wisdom.
"Ramuh," Celes breathed with a slight bow of her head, a surprising degree of respect from the general. "You escaped…"
"I did. And I sensed Terra's pain, so I summoned her here."
"And where is here, exactly?" Sabin inquired again.
"You are in the Garden of Gods," he explained, "an illusionary dimension between the worlds of human and Esper."
The sage received only blank stares from the men; Celes simply remained quiet, allowing the entity to explain.
"It is a gate separating the two worlds, keeping them from merging together."
"And…why is that?" Locke pressed.
"Humans and Espers cannot survive together." Ramuh said plainly. "The War of the Magi is testament to this fact. Over one millennium ago, humans and Espers did indeed coexist in a delicate balance of trust. It was a time when humans were still developing their culture, their identity. Their focus was not on weaponry or war or domination, but on the arts; paintings, sculptures, music, dance, poetry, and theater. However, when their culture reached its pinnacle, the humans began to crave a different kind of beauty."
"Magic," Edgar guessed.
"Precisely. When we told them the human race was not ready for such power, they became spiteful. All the evils of today's world were unleashed; envy, greed, pride, violence, and control. Corrupted by their greed and driven by their resent, they began developing weapons and armor. They even began enslaving Espers, extracting our powers to feed their abominable machines. And so, one thousand years prior to this day…"
"The War of the Magi," Sabin concluded.
Ramuh nodded. "Espers fought Espers, humans fought humans, and they all fought each other. The half-breed race of Magi tried to remain neutral, but were later hunted down by the humans for being gifted. We expelled the humans from our world, along with their envy and greed for what we hoped was forever. We once again lived in peace and prosperity for a thousand years. However, almost twenty years ago…"
"Gestahl invaded," Celes finished bitterly.
Ramuh again nodded solemnly, though eyeing the woman with notable interest. "Humans once again discovered the entrance to our world. Over a period of two years, humans snuck into our world and kidnapped those of my kin. The numbers of those taken was small at first, but one day, Gestahl came to see our world for himself. He ordered the capture of my people until we finally reforged the seal, but by then, hundreds were imprisoned in that Devil's Lab of the emperor's city. Drained of our powers and tossed aside, we were left to die. But Gestahl's methods are incorrect. A live Esper cannot be entirely drained of its power. Only when we…pass away…can our raw power be harnessed in the form of magicite."
"Magicite?" Locke wondered.
Ramuh reached into his robe and pulled out three stones. They had the appearance of fiery rubies encased by varying gems: aquamarine, topaz, and amethyst.
"These are three of my comrades who fell while escaping Devil's Lab," Ramuh told them sadly, handing them to the thief. "And soon I, too, will give you my power."
"What'll happen to Terra?" Edgar asked. "You said she was in pain."
"She is afraid. And confused. She does not know why she exists, and so she cannot move on."
"There has to be something we can do!" Edgar persisted.
"As soon as she accepts this aspect of herself, she will recover. Free my kind imprisoned in Devil's Lab. One there can surely help her."
"Maduin…" Celes murmured.
Ramuh again turned to the woman. "And you, Child of the Ice." Celes slowly met the sage's gaze, then quickly turned away. "Yes, I sense much turmoil in you. You will face many trials along the way, but the time will come when you will prove yourself."
"I have nothing to prove," she said defensively.
"Then why do you seek acceptance so?" he countered gently.
She look incredulously at the Esper. "…I seek nothing."
"Perhaps one among those imprisoned can also help you discover yourself as Maduin will Terra."
The others looked quizzically at Celes. Locke began to voice their shared query. "Celes…are you--"
She cut him off. "I told you before, I'm the product of two humans, with genetic engineering and infused Magitek. I am not half Esper."
Ramuh sighed, slowly shaking his head as he watched Celes walk back the way they came, vanishing from the dimension.
"If you truly believe that, then either you have not been told, or you simply deny the truth."
"What truth?" Locke asked.
The Esper seemed to hesitate before answering. "That although a human egg was used in her conception, most human properties on the female side were extracted, replacing them with those of Shiva. So technically, Celes is half Esper, but not in the physical sense Terra is."
There was a deafening silence in the room until Locke finally broke out of his trance and followed Celes out. Ramuh addressed the brothers.
"Please, help my people. They deserve better than their current fate. I shall join my fallen comrades, adding my power to yours. Use it wisely. And one final word of advice: in this world, nothing is what it seems."
A light flashed, and when it faded, the brothers saw that a yellow shard lay where Ramuh once stood.
"…Is he really…?" Sabin's voice trailed.
Edgar bent down and gingerly picked up the magicite. "So this is what the Empire seeks…"
"What do you think it does?"
"Beats me."
"Maybe Celes knows…"
Edgar stood still for a moment, then turned to where Terra slept. "We'll be back soon, Ter. Wait for us."
Taking the magicite, the brothers, too, disappeared from the dimension. Outside, Celes was leaning with her arms crossed against one of the building's support columns, gazing out over the desolate city. Locke, who was somewhat near her, had his arms resting on the railing, and was also looking over Zozo, though occasionally stealing a glance at Celes. It didn't appear they had been conversing at all.
Edgar and Sabin remained quiet as they entered the terrace. All that could be heard was the rain hitting the rooftops above and pavement below. Far off, a woman's scream pierced through the pouring rain. From the other side of town, the roar of a Gigas rivaled the thunder echoing overhead.
"I'll go to Vector."
Celes' sudden statement startled the men. Locke's head snapped up to look at her with an expression of disbelief.
"What? Celes, no."
She glanced curiously at Locke. "I know it well."
"Celes, that's suicide! If they catch you--"
"I'm well aware of the risks, Locke. And I know the Empire, its strengths and its weaknesses. I'm going."
"…Then I'm going with you."
It was Celes' turn to be in disbelief. "You're what?"
"I'm going with you," he repeated with the utmost sincerity.
"…No."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't need the 'righteous crusaders' tagging along! You'd only get yourselves killed." Then, she quickly added, "And what good would you be to Terra then?"
Locke withheld a smile at the concern Celes let slip and her failed attempt to cover it up.
"Celes, it's no more dangerous for us than it is for you," Locke reasoned. "And you're going to need help. One against an empire isn't very good odds."
"Oh ye of little faith," Celes muttered.
"Need a hand?" Edgar offered.
Celes stifled a groan, but couldn't withhold a sigh. A clap of thunder echoed through the deserted streets below.
"I really don't think this is a good idea," she said finally.
Locke simply looked at her expectantly. She glanced at the three men, then gazed back at the obscured horizon and sighed.
"Fine," she conceded.
A consensus was reached that they would return to Jidoor and decide what to do from there. They weren't quite sure how they would get to the Southern Continent. No commercial boats went there, and Celes couldn't exactly arrange transport on an Imperial cruiser.
After a long and silent day's walk, they stopped and made camp. The brothers were out gathering more firewood to last the night. A comfortable distance from the campfire (as usual), Celes sat against a tree cleaning her sword. Locke sat on his bedroll near the fire watching the blonde. If she noticed him gazing at her, she didn't show it. After a long silence, he shifted nervously and spoke.
"Can I ask you something?"
Celes continued meticulously polishing the blade inch by inch with the cloth for a moment as if she hadn't heard him.
Then in a flat tone, "Alright. We both know how much I love chitchat."
Locke hesitated for a second. "Do you really not care?" She didn't respond, obviously not understanding the context. "About the Returners?" he clarified, choosing his words carefully.
"Your cause?" she inferred, still not looking up from her sword.
"…Yeah. You never answered me when I asked if you actually betrayed the Empire."
Evading the actual question, Celes continued focusing on the sword, the slightest trace of amusement flickering in her eyes and voice.
"My goodness, are you trying to figure me out? I'm flattered," though her vaguely sarcastic tone suggested otherwise.
"Just answer the question," he insisted in a strangely quiet and gentle tone.
Celes continued silently polishing the blade, not looking as though she would answer. Locke was about to give up when she suddenly spoke again, her tone quiet but matter-of-fact.
"I told you before; you wouldn't like the answer."
"I just want to know." She didn't respond. "Come on, Cel, I'm not going to judge you."
Celes hesitated with the cloth for the briefest moment before resuming the tedious task. He had called her 'Cel,' a nickname used only by those closest to her, by those she trusted most. And yet, it didn't bother her. And it was that notion that troubled her.
"Locke, why are you doing this?"
"Doing what?"
"Coming with me?"
"Well…someone has to make sure you don't get yourself executed," he quipped, though some seriousness glinted behind his mirth. "And besides, I've always wanted an inside look at the Empire."
"You won't when you get there," she mumbled.
She held her sword up to inspect it, the flickering firelight dancing off the lustrous blade. Satisfied, she sheathed it and stretched out on her bedroll just as the brothers were returning. She lay there with her eyes closed listening to the crackling of the burning wood and the low murmurs of the three men as they tried to figure out how the magicite worked.
At some point she drifted off, but even then she felt a blanket being gently draped over her. Soon after this, she fell into a sleep plagued by images of the past, both things she's seen and done, and things that she could not possibly have known of. But if there's one thing she's learned, it's that there's no rest for the wicked.
You think you know who you are. You haven't even begun.
Author's note: Ok, the opera is coming up next, and I have no idea how things are going to happen yet, so it may be a while. Feel free to leave me shining reviews while you wait. Always appreciated :)