Disclaimer: Anyone who claims ownership to Final Fantasy (or my story for that matter) will be beaten to death with a shovel. "A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend... Have fun!"—Willow Rosenberg of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I was going to take this chapter further, but I figured I'd better post something for you guys before you start hunting me down :) The storyline is kind of boring right now, but I promise the mystery, plot, and drama will pick up again soon.

Chapter Twenty: Familiar Faces

A brown form padded quietly alongside his master. Before the world died, he would have chased anything that moved. Really, that hadn't changed; the problem was there wasn't anything that moved. So the animal settled for obediently following the human while keeping a twitching nose out for any sign of life. His master took him on these treks every week, searching for potentially useful debris that often washed up on shore.

They were near the coast now. Even above the stench of rot that drenched the valley, the dog could smell the sour saltiness of the sea, but beyond that… The dog stopped dead in his tracks, ears perked and nose tilted into the wind. The owner let out a surprised cry when the dog suddenly took off in the direction of the rocky beach.

The man ran after as fast as his legs would carry him to see what had caught the dog's interest. Just over a small dune, the coastline became visible. What he saw was a virtual goldmine.

Two logs, roughly a foot in diameter, along with a half dozen other planks of wood had beached. As he neared, the man saw that a couple of the planks were tied together. It looked as though this was the remains of a crude raft.

A bark followed by frantic whining drew his attention. About twenty paces from the wreckage, the dog was working itself into a frenzy as it eagerly sniffed an indistinguishable object. After dragging his find well out of the ocean waves' range, the man made his way over to the dog. The object took form, and the man uttered a mournful curse.

It was the body of a woman.

Just as the man started wishing he had brought his shovel, he realized the dog was still pawing at the woman and nudging her with his nose.

His tail was wagging.

The man gently rolled the woman onto her back and swept aside the matted blonde hair. The dog immediately attacked her face with his tongue. The man's curse was now made in relief.

She was breathing.

((ooo))

She awoke with a start, flailing about as if drowning. When her senses finally caught up with her mind, she realized she was not in water. In fact, she was quite dry, a welcome change from the days she spent being pounded by the merciless ocean current.

Sitting up, she saw that she was in a small but comfortable bedroom and wearing a fresh tunic. The inviting smell of cooking meat seeped into the room. She let herself fall back into the pillows with a soft thud, allowing her arms to dangle over either side. Staring at the ceiling, she began to contemplate her situation.

Before she got too far, though, she felt something cold and wet prod her right hand. It was quickly followed by something warm and moist brushing her palm. Barely even lifting her head to peer over the edge of the bed, she was met by the sight of soft brown eyes and a happily wagging tail.

She blinked, indifferent.

Two giant paws landed on either side of her extended arm. A pink tongue, drool dripping off abundantly, lolled out of the animal's mouth as he panted excitedly. The tail wagged even harder so that the dog's entire body swayed with it.

Her lips curled up ever-so slightly.

As if sensing some sort of acknowledgment, the dog let out a bark, and moments later the door to the room opened. A clean-shaven man in his thirties poked his head in and smiled when he took in the scene.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up. You were breathing okay when I found you, so I figured you'd be all right." He walked into the room. "I'm Jesse. Do you know where you are?"

She glanced around, noting the bold and sturdy architecture of the house. "I'd guess Albrook."

He nodded in confirmation. "How about your name?"

A flicker of fear flashed in her eyes. Although she supposed her circumstances weren't dire—she could have been in Tzen, or worse, Maranda—she wasn't sure how people would react if she was recognized. After a short-lived inner debate, she answered truthfully, however quietly.

"Celes."

When she looked up to meet Jesse's gaze, she found only a kind smile. If he knew who she was (and Celes found it hard to believe he wouldn't), he didn't show it.

"Well, Celes, the doctor says you check out fine, though he's amazed you didn't have hypothermia."

"I don't chill easily," she murmured, and Jesse nodded as if he understood her meaning.

"The missus is cooking up a roast in hopes that you'll join us for dinner."

"Um…I…" Celes suddenly wondered where all of her training in diplomacy went.

"Mashed potatoes, creamed corn, and fresh-out-of-the-oven biscuits," he added enticingly.

The blonde's stomach growled, and she realized just how hungry she was. "Of course. Thank you."

Minutes later, Celes was seated at the dining room table. Despite her discomfort with her current state of affairs, she was dismayed to find herself fidgeting with her gauntlet and squirming slightly in her chair, quite unbecoming a person of her military conditioning.

Jesse came back into the room from the kitchen, a short stocky brunette trailing behind him. "Celes, this is my wife, Eleanor."

The former general stood from her chair out of politeness and nodded in acknowledgment. A little girl no older than five peeked her head out from behind her mother.

Jesse grinned. "And this is our daughter, Allie. We don't have guests very often, so she's a little shy," he explained.

"Why don't the three of you sit yourselves down, and I'll bring out dinner," Eleanor said. "Celes, I hope you like roasted buffalax."

"Sounds wonderful."

Little was said while they ate. Celes noticed that neither Jesse nor Eleanor asked much about her past, for which she was grateful. They simply asked where she was from, and she could honestly reply 'from around these parts.' Allie was indeed shy, refraining from saying anything and excusing herself from the table when she was done eating. In contrast, the dog didn't stray far from the houseguest's feet, periodically nudging her leg in hopes of receiving a table scrap.

Though she enjoyed eating a real meal for the first time in a year, Celes was becoming anxious to be on her way.

"I must thank you for the meal, and of course for bringing me into your home."

"Think nothing of it, dear," Eleanor replied. "Even through the changing times of war and peace and destruction, one must never lose the gift of hospitality, lest we become as barbaric as—"

"Eleanor!" Jesse interrupted. "I thought we all agreed to never speak that hellgod's name."

The woman scoffed. "Sitting at the top of that tower throwing his Light of Judgment around doesn't make him a god."

Celes shook her head in confusion. "I'm sorry, I must have hit my head at some point. Who are you talking about?"

The married couple looked at the former general like she was crazy. Eleanor answered. "Why…Kefka, of course."

"Kefka…" Celes repeated unsurely. "…is still alive. And this tower?" she inquired.

The couple blinked in disbelief. Without a word, Jesse drew back the drapes from a northern-facing window, and Celes approached uncertainly. Even at a distance of nearly fifty miles away, the mammoth tower could be seen spiking into the low-altitude swirl of black clouds.

Celes nearly gasped.

It was the tower from her dream.

"Are you all right, Celes?" Jesse asked in concern. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I, uh…I…I have to go. I'm sorry, but...I have to go."

"Go where, dear?" Eleanor wondered. "The nearest city is a hundred miles from here, and chocobos are rare down here."

"Hundred miles?"

"All the smaller townships have either been destroyed or abandoned," Jesse explained. "Refugees in the South came here, and those in the North went to Tzen."

"Tzen…"

"Yeah. Wait…you aren't thinking about going there, are you? You'd have to cross the Deadlands, and I've only heard of one person crazy enough to try it on foot. Looking for his friends, or something."

That tidbit of information peaked Celes' interest, but she didn't inquire further.

"I…I really do have to go," she insisted. "I'm sorry."

Eleanor sighed in defeat. "Well, if you must, at least let me pack you some food for the journey. You'll need it."

Celes relented with a nod. "Thank you."

((ooo))

She traveled from what could only loosely be termed sunup to sundown. The permanent haze in the air gradually grew thicker and her boots began to stick in the copious black tar that swathed the land the closer to the tower she got. She noted that the soaring mountain ranges and rolling hills, the shady forests and sunny meadows that once graced the Southern Continent had vanished. Even the few desert regions were nowhere to be seen. There was only one flat plain, the brown and black matching the sky and making it impossible to distinguish the horizon.

Squinting through the smog, Celes saw the tower was a haphazard formation of rock and steel and stone. A great chasm encircled the massive structure, easily a mile across. The knight dared to peer over the abrupt cliff's edge, but the rising steam and ash made it impossible to tell if there was a bottom to the abyss at all.

Blinking away the stinging from the near-acidic blend, she continued on. There wasn't a living thing in sight, and Celes was evermore grateful for the food Eleanor had packed up for her. When Tzen finally came into sight, three days (or so she guessed) had passed. She happened upon a well just outside of town and was delighted to find clean water within its depths. Apparently there was still the rare natural resource that hadn't been tainted by the Ruin.

After washing the ash and tar from herself and consuming the last of her food, Celes headed into the city, more than ready for a night's rest in comfortable surroundings.

The main street of Tzen was deserted. A nearby shop, looking to be in the process of repair, had a length of plywood hanging randomly on the side by only a single nail. A hammer, nails, and other tools lay carelessly strewn across the pavement below the ladder as if abandoned in a hurry.

A breath of wind picked up, and Celes barely caught the whispers of the far-off voices it carried. As she walked cautiously in that direction, the voices grew louder, more numerous, and more frantic.

"Cory!"

More panicked shouts followed, and Celes took off at a sprint towards the source. Several dozen people were gathered outside a badly damaged house.

"What's going on?"

An old woman answered her. "Danielle's little boy is trapped inside!"

When Celes returned her gaze to the house, she noticed a large figure standing under the supports of the structure, the only thing standing in the way of its total collapse.

"Sabin?"

The martial artist looked up, and despite the strain he was under, a large grin broke out across his face.

"Celes! Hey!" The house creaked. "I'd love to chat, but the kid's still in there." Sabin grunted with the weight. "Cel, you have to get him out. I can't hold it much longer."

After a moment's indecision, Celes kicked the front door down and ran inside.

"Hurry!" Sabin shouted.

Celes nearly choked on the dust that hung in the air as she made her way through the living room. "Cory!" she called.

Room after room she checked, shouting the boy's name. Not finding him on the first level, she descended down into the basement.

"Cory!"

Celes stopped in her tracks, straining her ears. She could have sworn she heard a clicking sound. She called again. This time, she heard a faint sniffle followed by a cough. As she made her way in that direction, the clicking returned, but she made herself focus on the whimper up ahead. Opening a door, she found the child huddled in a closet.

"Cory? It's going to be alright." She extended her hand. "I'm going to get you out of here, but you have to come with me now."

The boy grasped her hand and allowed Celes to pull him out of the closet. When the knight turned to lead him out, she felt a tug on her hand and noticed Cory was refusing to move.

"What's wrong?"

He pointed at something behind the blonde with a fearful expression, and Celes turned to follow his gaze. About a dozen basketball-sized creatures, looking like a cross between a termite and a crab, were scuttling towards the pair. The earlier sounds registered in Celes' mind: mandibles and claws clacking together. Automatically, she reached for her sword, only to have her hand find nothing to grasp. The number of creatures had doubled, and the former general fought the urge to panic.

"Okay, I have a better idea." She grabbed Cory by both shoulders and pushed him in front of her. "Run!"

Keeping a hand on the boy's shoulder, Celes steered him around falling debris as they ran back through the house. More and more of the termite-crabs were abandoning their gnawing of the building's foundation to chase down the two humans, their claws scraping across the wood floors and their jaws gnashing together hungrily.

Moments after the two reached the ground level, the roof creaked and groaned, and the brick walls began to crumble. The supports holding the house up snapped, and the ceiling fell several feet. Celes dropped to her knees, pulling the boy down under her cloak. The pendant hanging from her neck shined brightly through the stirring dust.

The knight wrapped her hand around the glowing gem. "Diamond dust protect us."

Just as the house came tumbling down, the air surrounding the pair shimmered and swirled.

((ooo))

Sabin cursed harshly as he picked himself up, brushing debris off of his shoulders. Looking back at the house. He saw it was completely leveled.

"CELES!"

The martial artist dug frantically through the rubble, throwing aside sections of brick and roofing like they were cardboard.

"Celes! Gods, please let her be all right," he muttered. "Celes!"

Not fifteen paces from where the entrance of the house used to be, Sabin found a large block of ice under a portion of roof. He pounded on the frozen prison, seeing a distorted form huddled inside. Seconds ticked by with no reaction. He was just beginning to consider using a blitz when the ice shattered. The martial artist watched in relief as Celes stood unharmed, Cory safe under her cloak.

"You couldn't have held it twenty more seconds?" the knight asked blithely.

Sabin chuckled as he picked the boy up and carefully made his way out of the ruins, Celes right behind him. Cheers arose from the onlookers when the bodybuilder reunited Cory with his mother. Notably, though, the former general strayed from the crowd as if hiding from their praise. When Sabin finally managed to tear himself away from the ever-grateful citizens, he approached the blonde as she sat on the stone steps nearby, fiddling with the silver ring on her right thumb.

"Danielle and Cory send their thanks."

Celes glanced over in the mother and son's direction but otherwise said nothing. Sabin sat down next to the blonde and put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's good to see you're alive. I was beginning to think none of you guys made it."

"Same here," she admitted quietly.

Sabin let out a bark of laughter. "What? You think a minor thing like the end of the world was going to—" He suddenly broke off and stared at Celes in disbelief. "…You cut your hair."

It took her a moment to catch up with the sudden change in his train of thought. When she did, Celes slowly shook her head with the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Glad you have your priorities straight," she teased. "So, you haven't seen anyone else?"

Sabin shook his head solemnly. "Not yet. But, hey! Maybe that'll change. I mean, here you are. Maybe the two of us will have more luck together."

"Sabin…" She hesitated.

"What?"

"I…I don't think I'm going to go with you." A look of hurt passed over the martial artist's face, and Celes quickly explained. "I don't think I'm…that I'm in a place where I can just hop back in the gang and…and pretend some of that stuff never happened."

Sabin bowed his head, then nodded in understanding. "I guess I get that, but will you at least think about coming along?"

"I don't know…"

"Which way are you headed?"

"Some direction that isn't south. I just came up from Albrook."

Sabin simply nodded, silently wondering why he hadn't run into the blonde while he had stayed in the port city.

"Nikeah is about a two weeks' walk north of here," he said finally. "Ships still run between there and South Figaro. There's not really anywhere else to go."

Celes blinked. "How can we get to Nikeah from here? That's a completely different continent…"

"It's a different world, Cel. Have you been asleep this past year?" he joked. When she looked away, it dawned on him. "Oh gods, you have been."

"Coma," she explained softly.

"…So what was that like?"

"Imagine the worst nightmare you've ever had and not being able to wake up from it."

"Oh."

"You were about to explain how to get to Nikeah from here," she reminded, trying to steer away from the previous awkward subject.

"Right. The Serpent Trench." Sabin received a blank stare. "…is above water now," he finished.

Celes looked at the ground while she tried to process the information. "That doesn't even make sense. The Serpent Trench is a current of water. How could it…?"

"Earthquakes and massive ocean-floor land upheavals?" he guessed. "I don't know, but it's there."

Celes was silent for a long while. Albeit reluctantly, she finally gave him the answer he was waiting for. "Look, I won't make any promises, but…for now…I'll come with you." Sabin nodded in satisfaction. "First, though, I have to buy a sword."

Sabin looked at her in alarm. "What happened to your Rune Blade?"

"I…lost it," she lied.

"Oh man. Doesn't that mean you can't Runic?"

"Pretty much." She sighed. "You wouldn't happen to have any gold on you, would you?"

He grinned. "Of course."

((ooo))

Celes groaned as she surveyed the selection of weapons displayed. "Ugh. Crap...crap…" She picked up a blade that looked promising, then set it back. "More crap. Gods, all these swords are worthless!"

Sabin smiled sheepishly at the shop owner, who sent an offended glance their way. "Celes, you can't expect to find the same craftsmanship that your Rune Blade had." He pointed to the wall behind the register. "Look. There's a 'Specials' collection over there."

The clerk forced a smile. "These blade each have an elemental magical quality."

Celes narrowed her eyes. "How were they forged?"

"They were developed as experimental weapons in the Magitechnology labs of Vector, before the Ruin that is. I believe they were forged by tempering a normal iron blade with stones of magical origin."

"Magicite?" Sabin whispered to Celes.

The knight nodded but remained quiet.

"Hey, perfect!" the martial artist exclaimed, trying to be enthusiastic. "Blizzard Edge." Then, at Celes' questioning glance, "Unless you want the Flame Sabre."

The knight sent him a withering look before she gestured grudgingly to the clerk. "I'll take the Blizzard Edge."

"Excellent choice, madam."

Fighting the urge to snort at the title the salesclerk bestowed on Celes, Sabin nodded towards the shop next door. "Armor?"

"Nah. Only slows me down. I just need a cloak."

((ooo))

After a night's rest at the inn, Celes and Sabin headed east for a day, then continued northeast when they reached the isthmus connecting the Southern Continent to the Serpent Trench. As they traveled, the martial artist explained to his companion what had been happening the last year. In his madness, Kefka had unleashed the Old Ones unto the earth: the legendary eight dragons of Earth, Wind, Fire, Water, Ice, Thunder, Poison, and Light; the winged terror Doom Gaze; the scourge Phunbaba. Kefka used his newly acquired power to ravage the land and scorch the sky with his Light of Judgment. It was rumored that a group of men corrupted by the jester's influence gathered together and formed a cult, worshipping him as though he were a true god.

Sabin had been traveling across the continents as best he could in search of the Returners. He recently received word that Figaro had become stuck under the desert sands, and he was on his way to figure out what happened.

"I used the castle a lot to go between South Figaro and Kohlingen," he explained. "Quite a feat considering the Gulf of Zozo separates them completely now."

If Celes was perturbed by the flood of information, she didn't show it. The blonde stayed her usual taciturn self, especially reluctant to speak of the events on the Solitary Island.

By the end of the second day of their travel, they reached the junction of the Serpent Trench. Both agreed it was a good spot to set up camp for the night.

Celes pointed east. "What's on the other end?"

Sabin followed her gaze. "Not sure. It gets swampy down that way, so I haven't gone too far to find out."

Time passed slowly as they sat around the campfire Sabin had conjured. Celes absently fidgeted with her silver ring. The martial artist, perhaps from lack of anything else going on, happened to notice the quickly-developing nervous habit.

"You okay?"

She didn't look up. "Fine."

"You sure? I've never known you to fidget before. Thought that was breaking one of the commandments of generalhood or something…"

His joke caused the knight to crack a tiny smile, but it quickly faded. "Not a general anymore."

Sabin nodded at her excuse. "Ah. Can I see it? The ring?"

The martial artist noted a bit of uncertainty, but Celes eventually removed it from her thumb and passed it over to him. It was a wide ring, the two outer bands joined by a zigzagging braid in the middle. At one point, the bands converge into a solid plate, where a tiny eagle is raised. Something about the bird was agonizingly familiar to Sabin, but he couldn't place it.

"It's a nice ring. Where'd you get it?"

Celes glanced at the item he held, then stared back into the fire. "…It's my Imperial ring. Only the three generals wore them…"

Sabin looked at the former officer, his expression unreadable. "I never noticed it before."

"I didn't wear it after Locke got me out of South Figaro," she explained flatly.

The martial artist hesitated. Not a general anymore, he thought. "…And now?"

She shrugged. "Thumb feels weird without it."

Sabin managed a short laugh and handed the ring back to her. "I know that feeling. It's like my claws are living extensions or something." He paused. "Well, I'm going to turn in."

Celes stared at the ring in her hand, old uncertainties surfacing unbidden in her mind. "Yeah…"

((ooo))

When Sabin awoke then next morning, Celes was gone, with no sign of the direction she took evident. "No promises," he echoed sadly. His mood downtrodden, he set off to the West towards Nikeah, wondering if he would see the blonde general again.

Author's note: The "you cut your hair" thing is a joke from Buffy that will continue into the next couple chapters. I just couldn't resist. The Imperial ring kind of came out of nowhere, I know, but that's the way it goes sometimes, I guess. While you wait for the next chapter, help yourself to a nice heaping plate of roasted buffalax! Mmm.