I am the Chronicler.

I am Second in Command of The Scholar's Champion Selecting Ministry, currently Ministering for The Lady, Goddess Cosmos of Order. My work often takes me away from my family, a fact I am not much pleased with, but one which I deal with, for my services aid the whole of Heaven. The preservation of a God's History is near to my heart, for upon my own world a great evil tried to challenge history for her own sake.

Oh, but I suppose I had better recap. I see the Scholar's "official" records leave us at the scoring of Cecil Harvey? Ah, ah, not a problem. I remember exactly what happened next. Oh, yes, we're a little past that now, but I'll fill you in on what is going on as quickly as I can. My, you don't want to miss what's going on now!

So The Scholar had just finished adding his scores to Cecil's docket, and we all turned to The Engineer for his personal opinion. Funny story about The Engineer: his name is Cid! Ah, but perhaps that's just funny as a joke between Cids? Oh, well, I'll get to that in a moment. Back on track then, eh?

The Engineer dried his eyes and said, "I've made me decision. Aye, we'll send Cecil."

The Scholar gave a grave look and answered, "Are you certain? You are aware of Cosmos' condition?"

"We shall accept the Goddess' proposal. Cecil's a stron' man. His heart bore worse in life. He'll stand this jus' the same. Sad, no doub', but he'll weather it."

"As you wish. We shall send Cecil."

So we sent the dockets, our decision, and all other materials back with The Messenger (Would you believe he's a Cid as well? Ah, but that's another story, ha!) and we sat and waited while The Scholar updated his own private record as well as the official one. Then The Messenger returned, bearing the dockets and a letter. Yet his face was pale. The mustache, normally bristling with energy, seemed to hang somewhat. He handed the files to The Scholar, who opened the letter.

The Scholar turned more and more angry as he read the letter. At last he tore the paper to shreds, stood, said, "I will not suffer this to pass!" and left the room. The Messenger ran after him, and to all of us it became clear: The Scholar had gone to see Cosmos, and The Messenger was bound to stop him.

The moment we were sure they both were gone, The Wanderer and I dived for for the shreds. Torn, ever last letter. Only one word survived The Scholar's anger, but it was all we needed to know what had made the man so furious.

"Previa."

"Previa?" I said, staring at the paper.

The Chronicler looked across the table at me and shrugged. "We're all Cids, whether he acknowledges it or not."

I frowned and looked at the paper. For the first time that day, I produced my shades and promptly set them on. The Scholar does not approve of them, thinks specs are for seein', not blindin', but ah, well, the guy doesn't understand style much. Some angels have flair, some don't. Even Seraphs, who can manifest six wings at once, are not automatically stylish.

I am The Wanderer. A curious name, I admit, one that puzzles my companions more often than not. Not hard to believe, either. They've read my docket, no doubt, as I have read there's. Among our numbers we have a Headmaster, an Airship mechanic, an inventor, a scholar, and of course, an Emperor. The single best looking Emperor in history, no less.

"Well," I say, running a hand through my hair, "What do we do now, gentlemen? Cid's run off to see The Goddess, and Cid went chasing on after him. Cid's still a little shaky from condemning his friend to a trial of soul, which leaves Cid talking with Cid about what all the little Cids in Cid-land should do now."

The Chronicler pulls out his glasses. In Heaven, no one needs glasses, but for the sake of variety, angels may choose to wear them anyway. He pushes them up his nose and says, "Don't you think we perhaps ought to discuss what could have upset him so?"

"It's hardly difficult to imagine, is it? The Scholar's letter has come from his God. The Absent, as The Scholar calls him. His using the word Previa is enough to anger him. The Scholar has no love for That Lord, and has gone to complain to The Lady."

"But surely that can't be all?"

The Engineer pipes up. "The Messenger has lef' us the dokkets. I dinnae think we air men' tae idle."

"Indeed. I propose we get on with our jobs. The Scholar might come back soon, but if he does not, I doubt he will be well pleased to see us sitting so."

"So who did Cid leave us, hm?"

"Sez here we have Bairtz Klauser, Cara Baldesion, Faris Scherwiz, an' Galuf Baldesion."

I grab the docket marked Cara, open it, and promptly toss the docket behind me.

"Come now! Such disrespect for the angels who compiled that?"

"Believe me, Cid, had you seen that woman, you, too, would have done as I. I shall strip my wings from my soul 'ere we disgrace ourself with such a choice."

"What could possibly have been wrong with her?"

"My dear Cid, her head. Nowhere in the Battlefield is there space enough for such a head."

Name: Lord King Galuf Halm Baldesion
Age: 60
Species: Hume.
Sex: Male

Ah, mmm. A King? Well, I must say that's one we haven't done yet today. I think? Hard to say. Oh, but how much am I supposed to natter on? Ought to just jump into the file, I suppose. Can't be too hard to do this. After all, I get up and do this every day, don't I? Funny, really. I mean, this is Heaven, and Eternity, yet you still have to travel and can't simply instantly be somewhere else unless you're a God.

The Scholar doesn't know this, but we're planning on putting a recommend in to the Choir of Elohim when we finish here. He thinks we're turning against him, and, oh, don't get us wrong, the man can be simply agitating at times, but we do love him, and we're requesting that The Gods consider making him a Seraph. Were we bolder angels, we'd demand he be Exalted to Godhood. It's sort of our secret hope. Sure, we all want to trade our halos, harps, and wings in for crowns and voices of thunder and all that, but we'd like to Minister for him, as we've oft felt we already do.

Oh, dear! There I go again, I suppose I should just get to work then? Galuf was not born to any princely estate. Indeed, when born his word was largely idyllic. Not a single problem. But as a young man, Galuf saw as Ex-Death (that's Chaos' champion), stepped forth and began to torch the largely unprepared world. The time became known as the Night, that absolute reign of Ex-Death.

Galuf, already a man with a wife and children of his own, set out across the face of his world on a quest to end The Night. He would not see his children grow as he himself had. Along the way he met Dorgan Klauser, Kelgar Vlondette, and Xesat Surgate. Together they declared themselves the Warriors of Dawn and chased Ex-Death across space to another world. There they sealed him, and three of those warriors returned to their home.

Things seemed to go well enough, and upon returning home, the three were made rulers of their peoples. Galuf lived a happy life, seeing his granddaughter born and growing, before he and his friends began to hear stirrings upon the Abandoned Continent- that place which Ex-Death had made his home.

So Galuf elected to return to the other world and check the seal. Along the way Galuf saw many things. He met three of the Warriors of Light- Bartz, son of Dorgan, and the Princesses Faris and Lenna. Together, these three discovered that Ex-Death had a form which could be hunted and harmed- a tree of all things!

But the battle in the Forest of Moore was a terrible one. The docket says that, even when his energy had been stripped of him, and his body ravaged, Galuf rose and did battle alone. Ex-Death had outlived all the Warriors of Dawn, and once it had taken all four to stop him, but now, this one man alone drove Ex-Death back.

The battle would claim Galuf's life, but his love for his friends extended beyond. When Ex-Death slung the full force of the Void (yes, the very same in which the Cloud of Darkness dwells) at The Light Warriors, Galuf and his comrades forced it back.

We thus score this King as follows:

Team Work: 10/10. Galuf worked on two separate teams, and never once encounter a single hitch getting along with these groups. He was who he was, and the teams accepted him for this. The man died for his team, as well, of course, which is a major plus in his benefit, too, no?

Lethality: 5/10. Unfortunately for Galuf, he fought Ex-Death twice, and both times he failed to finish the job. Sad? Yes. Forgivable? Indeed. Utterly human? Absolutely. A quality we desire in our "L'Cie"? Not in the slightest.

Faith:2/10. No one from the Scholar's world much likes Gods. It's a taste bred by a world of inattention. My own world's God has fallen under fire before as well, for all that the Sorceresses have done, but he is still, on the whole, far more attentive than the one from The Scholar's home. Galuf can be counted on to play his part for only a limited length of time, and then quickly wonder what is really going on. After such a point, he might discover the truth and, well, from there there are problems . . .

Opposition: 7/10. Galuf fought Ex-Death no less than two times, and, even after his own death, was not content to leave the work to others. He risked his soul to storm the very heart of the Void and save his friends. His desire to see Ex-Death undone is, in a word, powerful.

Name: Princess Sarisa Tycoon
Alias: Captain Faris Scherwiz
Age: 20
Sex: The Fairer
Species: Hume

There are only so many beautiful women in the whole of Creation (which is ironic, given that Creation goes on forever), and of these many, one was a Captain Faris Scherwiz. Sadly, of the rare beautiful women in the vastness of all things, so precious few understand that they truly are as rare as they are. A thousand laments should here be sung for this Faris, for of the few who knew they were beautiful, she was one, and knowing this, she hid her beauty anyway.

At birth, a disaster separated this lady from her family, and, rather than being raised in Tycoon, where wars would have been waged for her hand, Faris grew up the daughter of pirates and sea monsters. Likely it was a dirty, foul life. One can only imagine, if one dares.

This rose, raised among thorns, was perfectly gardened by Cosmos for the war against Chaos. Because of the lethargic nature of this world's God, Cosmos and Chaos worked much more freely during their war. By the time Faris joined the quest, she believed she could handle anything.

This was, however, not entirely true; the quest claimed the life of Faris' childhood pet. I have never yet owned a pet, but I am told the grief is excruciatingly potent. Wracked by such pains, Faris still marched on. The fires in her heart burned brightly, and when the time came to face Ex-Death, few among her party were as prepared to slay anything that stopped them as her.

Team Work: 2/10. Faris was the captain of a Pirate crew, and used to issuing rough and abrupt orders. Though in time she did soften, I find it doubtful she would mesh well with a trained soldier like Cecil, and at the same time, a free spirit like Luneth. These men would have to individually earn her respect, and while such things are possible, I do not find it optimal.

Faith: 1/10. She is from the same world as The Scholar. No one who comes from that world can be trusted to work for Cosmos. I do not even trust The Scholar, much as I may normally, for this is somehow a much, much more bitter thing than normal. No, no one from that world would feel any major drive if they discovered what was going on. The hope of saving history is a doubtful hold. Not because they have little drive to save the lives they knew, but because that is the way of their world. History is done. Ex-Death lost, and they would never believe he could win again.

Lethality: 3/10. A pirate, yes, and therefore a fierce and taught warrior. But Faris was a mere woman, and nothing more. Her body, supple, elegant, smooth, curved, flowing as the wind or as a river, could easily break when rammed against Ex-Death, who is hard, knotted, and gnarled, as the tree he is.

Opposition: 4/10: Faris hates Ex-Death, and that is about the best you can hope for. Nothing outstanding there. Hatred for her enemy, however, is a debatable plus. How long such hatred can sustain her, and if it could drive her to stop her foe before she discovered the truth one cannot say. Nevertheless, hatred is not enough, and it is not an outstanding quality.

The door is opened.

Through it I pass, flanked by The Messenger. My face is still hot, and my eyes are cold, oh so very cold. I have said my peace. I have been to see The Lady, to see The Gardener (for simplicity's sake, my "God"), and I have even been to The Sacred Nebula to file a complaint with The Highest Himself. I will not suffer such mockery, not even from Gods. To include a docket on myself and give me the highest of recommendations amongst persons even I know are far more qualified champions- no, such a thing I will not stand.

I see that the others have scored up Faris, and Galuf, and I see in the corner a docket tossed away. "Cara, I'm guessing?" I ask, eying The Wanderer as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Don't blame me," he says, "It is not my fault God gave her a skull too large for this quest. Had your world no prettier women?"

"No," I answer, "We were all angry, ugly, and misanthropic. Cara was as pretty as they came, since she wasn't born with a mustache and beard, unlike the rest of my people."

"What a pity," The Wanderer says, frowning.

"Pity is for the weak and living."

"Ah, many pardons, Scholar, but we did save one for you."

"Excellent." I say, taking the docket. "Ah, Bartz. On the one hand, he's the best choice, but on the other, he's got to be the worst."

"Worst?" The Messenger says, "Oh, the worst is yet to come."

Casting the same confused glance he always does when The Messenger gets prophetic, The Engineer asks, "Wha d'ye mean, Worst?"

"Well, it's simple, really. Bartz Klauser is a hero. A brave warrior and, oddly, a leader of women. But make no mistake: Bartz Klauser is an absolute idiot. An idiot with a heart of gold and a sword that would scare The Cloud of Darkness, but an idiot nonetheless."

Name: Bartz Klauser
Age: 20
Sex: Male
Species: Hume

As I have just said, Bartz Klauser was an idiot. Things which were readily plain to others were essentially mysteries to him. Never once did Bartz wonder why his village respected his father, despite them living far from the grand realms of Karnak, Walse, and Tycoon. No, to Bartz life was simple, and things which were not readily explained were simply not explained.

But Bartz was a good man, honest for the most part, kind, neither savage nor cruel, he was perfectly suited to the life of a wanderer, and for a time that did, indeed, seem to be his only lot in life. Yet this was not to be the case. As Ex-Death slowly began to worm his way to freedom, and ultimately toward oblivion, King Galuf, far off on his otherworldly throne, rallied some in his world to go back to the place where they had sealed Ex-Death and check on the seal.

And so when Meteors came crashing out of the sky, Bartz' life was forever changed. What followed was a quest which made for some strange bedfellows. A King and three Princesses traveled with him, and on the way, witnessing the very pillars of his world shattered, and finding strength in what was essentially the death of a binding force, Bartz began to change.

Nothing incredible or major, but small, tiny parts of him seemed to rub off, until eventually, when Ex-Death, at his power's peak, cast Bartz' home into the Void, the feelings this simple man could not describe came to a head. It would be years later in his life, just several after my death, when Bartz would finally come to grips with the fury that Ex-Death had unleashed.

A famous quote some philosophic angels like to spew to their disciples is Ex-Death's line to Galuf, "All the Hatred in the world cannot stop me." To many this is an absolute truth; beings who are so terrible they will choose Outer Darkness over the warmth and light of Hell can never be defeated with simply hatred. Arguments against what I say next have been, and can be made.

Bartz Klauser defeated Ex-Death with nothing less than pure, unending hatred. Though fire was Faris' element, Bartz stormed the Cleft of Dimensions, a place situated on the edge of that Void, and in anger rose against Ex-Death, against everything he stood for. Ex-Death struck back, casting Klauser and his companions into the Void, but from that Void they returned. And Bartz' sword rose again, and at the end of all things, Ex-Death fell, consumed by the force he had sought, transformed by it, and ultimately defeated by Bartz and his friends.

Without a doubt, Bartz is the only man from my world I would trust with this job. Though his faith, as my own, is hardly high, he is simpler than his comrades, less likely to devise the whole of Cosmos' and Chaos' war, and his intense hatred would drive him on. Thus I score him-

What was that noise?

"Did anyone else hear a crash?"

Lethality: X/10.- Bartz is an unusual warrior, in that his own strength is largely variant. While Luneth could change classes on the fly as well, Bartz' selection was . . . something else entirely. Luneth could be a Ninja, a Sage, but nothing so . . . unique as Bartz' access to Mimicry, Blue Magic, Alchemy, Swordspells and the what not. Unf- what was that?

"I'm not the only one hearing that, am I?"

"Can't be anything important," says The Chronicler, "But yes, I have made note."

"Alright. Just let me finish."

Faith: Bartz, simple as he is, is the least likely of my world's Warriors of Light to discover the true meaning behind this war, to see that more than history is at stake. Were he to- there it is again!

"Is it just me, or is it getting closer?"

"That," The Wanderer replies, "or it's growing louder."

"Maybe both?" The Engineer asks.

"It's only getting worse," The Messenger says.

Team Work: Bartz- ACK!

The doors explode around me, and in dashes a man in red, being chased by several angels wearing the Seal of Cosmos. Instantly, of course, we all recognize this man. His garish robes, six arms, various weapons, face paint. Oh, yes, we know exactly who this is.

"Gilgamesh" we groan as one.

"Cids!" Roars Gilgamesh as the angels struggle to pull him back, "Now is the time to shave your beards, ditch your specks, rip off your shirts, oil your pecs and become MEN!!!"

"What the-"

"ENOUGH!" he cries, leaping onto the table, sending all our papers flying everywhere. "No more hiding behind desks with pens, hiding your pens behind desks, or desking your pens in your hide! Linus, Charles, Schroeder! Snoopy and Pig Pen! Cast off your blankets of security! Who will join the famous World War I Flying Ace upon Sopwith Camel in his epic battle against the Red Baron!?!"

Cosmos' Seraphim enter the chamber, flanked by Cherubim with flaming swords. What once was a private chamber is now an arena for the most insane show in all of Heaven. The table collapses under the weight of Gilgamesh and his many blades. At this very moment a man in a green suit dashes in, flipping over the cherubs, kicking The Engineer in the back of the head and landing, face first, next to Gilgamesh.

He gets to his feet, strikes a pose, and shouts, again entirely too loud, "I am a the pretty sailor soldier! On behalf of the moon, I will right wrongs and triumph over evil, and that means you!" The man in green high fives- Oh Gods, of all things, a high five!- Gilgamesh, who then says:

"Nice one Enkidu, but don't you think it should go a little more like this?" I take it back, Gods, I take it back. He's singing: "Fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight, never running from a real fight, he is the one called Enkidu Moon!"

"Oh, I think I know that song! He will never turn his back on a friend, He is always there to defend, He is the one on whom we can depend, he is the one called-"

At this point the walls explode, and, if nothing else, I am certain I have lost my mind. An octopus emerges from the wall and shouts "Sailor Ultros!" another hole reveals a shambling mass of robes "Sailor Gogo!" "Sailor Cactuar!" "Sailor Tonberry!"

"No way!" Gilgamesh shouts, "it goes like this!" And now, Gods, now they are dancing, and even the Seraphim have stopped trying to stop them. "With secret powers all so new to him he is the one named Enkidu Moon!"

"Fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight, With pretty soldiers there to help fight, He is the named, he is the one named Enkidu Moon! He is the one named Enkidu Moon!"

"AWRIGHT. That was SO MANLY!!" Gilgamesh exclaims.

"Yeah, but do we have to be Pretty Soldiers? It hardly inspires fear."

"NONSENSE! A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, over the hill and through the woods, under the sea, darling it's betta, down where it's wetta, at band camp I knew a guy who heard a guy tell his girlfriend all about this movie where they discussed a book that was all about this legend inspired by a true story a man once told his sick grand son in which someone said the famous words MAWWAGE! Pretty Soldiers are the manliest of all Light Warriors!"

"True that!" Enkidu says, "We are so cool!"

"But enough ridiculous and outdated pop culture references! It's time we fight with all the vigor and muster of the dead, minus the rotting! Oh Council of Cids! Gird your loins with the jock strap of The Highest and join us in our crusade! For it is almost time!!!"

. . . words cannot describe . . . the idiocy . . .

"What in the name of The Highest is the meaning of this!" I finally manage to roar over the voices of Gilgamesh and his companions as they trade witty remarks about whether it's pronounced Ah-dage or Uh duh jay. The moron brigade stops a moment and regards me.

"Imagine if you will the shape of a cheese wheel, and this cheese is eternity! HARK! I am the Cheese! But LO! The cheese stands alone. Run, run, as fast as you can, you can't catch me, I am the stinky cheese man! But as the hard-boiled eggs that are my soul begin to ferment, I look inside myself and realize the truth: The cheese is never alone."

Several seraphim groan. The Engineer is still rubbing the back of his head, and The Messenger, oddly, looks rather serene. I am bothered by this, of course, but more so that he simply turns and leaves.

"Our worlds are in peril! Gods, the spirits of our worlds, can no longer stand the terrible destruction plaguing the Heavens! So send five magic rings to five special young people! When these five powers combine you can summon the greatest champion! Captain Gilgamesh! The POWAH is YOUARS!"

"YEAH!" the chorus sing, "EARTH! FIRE! WIND! WATER! HEART! GO PLANET! CAPTAIN GIL! HE'S A HERO! GONNA TAKE POLLUTION DOWN TO ZERO!"

"JUST STOP IT ALREADY! What are you doing here!?"

"We've come to warn you about the Four Fiends of the Earth!"

"What, you mean Chaos has sent elemental fiends after us?"

"Yes and no."

"Which is it?"

"Yes, their from Chaos, no they're not all four elements."

"I don't follow."

"You don't really need to, Brother Previa, we followed you!"