Visions of Peace

by Elessar

FF6: Devastated by the Imperial Civil War, a leaderless, divided Empire only hastens the encroaching shadows of another Dark Age. Our heroes fight to ensure peace for all peoples of the world, but can even they halt the inevitable ruin of civilization?

15. A Deepening Shadow

The Fifteenth Chapter - A Deepening Shadow

The Imperial Capital: Center of an Empire that spanned a continent and had clenched its claws around another, Vector was the crown of civilization. It was a cold, industrialized city that bore little resemblance to any other in the world. With cobblestone replaced by flat, melted black rock, metallic skeletal frames stretching high into the sky, a mass of smoke-spewing factories and the dark walls of the Imperial Palace set in its midst, Vector was not a sight to sooth the eye. But it was home to over a million Imperial citizens, larger than even the coastal city of Albrook.

There was a saying: all roads led to Vector. It was arrogant perhaps, but not entirely untrue.

Vegetation seemed to be all but extinct near the Imperial Capital. Dark clouds churned overhead, giving the impression that the city was always grey. It was mostly smoke from the factories and given to the whim of mother nature, but no matter what its proponents said, the city always seemed overcast. As Terra strolled along the main roads that led to Vector, she could not think of a single good thing about the center of the Empire.

She had lived here for sixteen years of her life. She remembered every moment and hated all of them. Even at a distance, she could see the dark walls that ringed the Imperial Palace. They were tall and imposing, a solid mass of black stone that interposed itself against any who sought to enter or leave. The gates were no less ominous, great shafts of metal twice as tall as the greatest Magitek Armor. It was the only passage through the walls.

Terra knew that from personal experience.

Yet despite the vitriol buried deep within her soul, Terra Branford would never have wished this upon the great city.

The factories were silent, the smoke stacks idle. Not a sound could be heard from what should have been the biggest collection of peoples in the entire world. Instead, the fires of war had claimed the greatest prize there was.

The dead were everywhere! It was what Fanshaw should have looked like, a war-torn battlefront riddled with tens of thousands of cadavers. Terra had to step over the bodies that littered the road -- there were so many! -- and into the rubble that was once the center of civilization. Its citizenry were dead, or escaped into the countryside and slaughtered there. An uncountable number of buildings were collapsed, the tell-tale sign of Tek missiles and elemental cannonade everywhere. Even Magitek Armors, their once dominating hulks broken asunder, were strewn haphazardly in the chaos.

And it only got worse the deeper they went.

---

He took each step carefully, in as much disbelief as the first time he had climbed the very same stairs. Vector had been aflame then, the Espers had struck down the Empire and killed tens of thousands. This was much the same, though unbelievably more horrific. The crossbows strapped to his wrists felt heavier with every step and he chided himself for letting down his guard. His eyes scanned every nook and cranny. While appearances suggested nothing was alive, he was not taking any chances.

Locke Cole found himself before the entrance of the Imperial Palace, relatively sure that they were safe. Ignoring the red and black banners of the Empire that had been burnt to a crisp, he turned around and froze at the sight.

A fire unlike any had broken out in one section of the city. Behind its wake, there was a crater similar in size to those left by the beams of the Floating Continent. An explosion had been the cause of such a catastrophe. From his perch before the Imperial Palace entrance, he could make out concentric circles of rubble. It took a little effort to see the patterns, but it was definitely there. Shockwaves, again like those released during the Floating Continent's final moments, had devastated thousands upon thousands of homes.

This had been recent. Less than a week ago, Vector was a bustling city of over a million people.

Norris reached the top, his face forcefully impassionate, and was closely trailed by Terra and Anthony. Sherwood was already by Locke's side, and at the bottom, Gossman and Miles made sure no one was following them before climbing the hundreds of stairs as well.

The Imperial soldiers were remarkably composed, considering the extent of death and destruction that had claimed the crown city of the Empire.

"Well," Norris said as he took in the sight of the Imperial Capital from their high vantage point. Dark clouds continued to churn overhead despite the factories being inoperative. "At least this detour wasn't in vain."

The pattern they had discovered had led them to the understanding that people were fleeing from Vector, abandoning everything, over the past weeks. They had guessed that the New Order had done something vile in its rule. It had been the simplest explanation. After all, everyone knew that the New Order had been without mercy or foresight. Monsters had run rampant, starvation widespread and disease unchecked.

None expected this.

"Gossman, take Terra, Anthony and Miles inside. Sherwood and Locke, you're with me," Norris pointed along the ramparts that ran around much of the Imperial Palace. "We'll scout the outside. The Imperial Palace is the only thing in all of Vector that seems remotely in one piece, so it'll be the best place to start sifting for clues. We need to find out what happened here."

Norris gazed long at the six Magitek Armors broken on the ramparts around them. Dozens of soldiers also lay dead in front of the Imperial Palace's entrance, a thin layer of snow covering each like a makeshift blanket.

Clues? Everyone knew what happened in Vector, Locke thought. He glanced back at the ruins of the great city, knowing that there were easily hundreds of thousands of corpses in any direction he choose to look. The scene was an eerie reminder of his past and that was a maddening thought. Had he still clung to that universal, irrational hatred, he might have been pleased at the sight.

But not only had he moved on, he was better than that. Locke Cole did not wish this on anyone, not even to those at the center of the Empire.

"-half an hour, let's move people."

---

The three men had been silent throughout their trip around the outskirts of the Imperial Palace. Upon the ramparts that ringed the mighty ruling center of the Empire, one had a perfect view of all of Vector. At any other time, it would have been an impressive sight. Few could fault the Emperor's choice of residence; it oversaw the greatest collection of industrial power in the entire world.

It was not pretty. Never would one see a portrait of the Vectorian cityscape in an art gallery of Jidoor, but it was difficult not to be proud of what civilization had become. From dark days of barbaric scavenging and foraging to the technological might and splendour of the Empire, it was a majestic sight.

But Vector had been flattened. The jewel of civilization was in ruin.

Norris' eyes never strayed from the Imperial Palace, the only building of note still standing within the capital. Its impenetrable walls had protected it from unimaginable energy. The Colonel calmly noted that research would have to be done into that topic, for something had exploded in the midst of the city. That something had left a crater to match those created by the Floating Continent. It was not much of a leap in logic to assume the enemy had an abominable weapon.

His breathing was forcefully calm.

The enemy. Karen had given him a folder with all the information she could compile on the state of the war. It had been snuck into the supplies retrieved from the army camp, unbidden but certainly well-received.

Danielle Meras had been seriously delayed at the Gap near the Gaston Cliffs. That was expected. Norris recalled the bloody war fought there when the Empire had taken steps to curb the Kingdom of Tzen's aggression. The bloody battles fought in the Gap of Reddenhurst could have been used as material to scare rookies for another hundred years. Latest reports had placed her delayed indefinitely; analysts had concluded that in order for General Meras to break the New Order's defence within the month, it would take a miracle.

Well, they were just analysts. Norris didn't put much stock in the pen-pushers' opinions, but at least they had some solid facts.

Still, that meant there was only one person that could have been responsible for sacking Vector.

Norris shivered. Of all places, Vector had been sacked. The world was truly going mad.

In front of him, the team of Locke and Sherwood scouted ahead. Norris had taken the opportunity to silence the three of them -- no noise would be heard -- but he had a feeling that it wasn't needed. He had chosen the two men because as of late, they had been extremely reliable and even more capable.

"This door," Norris stared at the solid iron gate near the back of the Imperial Palace, far out of sight and equally out of mind.

Locke and Sherwood slipped in, each covering the other with their deadly poison-tipped crossbows. Neither was taking chances and Norris was no slouch either. He strolled in behind them, spells readied for all-out warfare.

---

Terra swallowed back the bile in her throat.

The Imperial Throne Room, covered by red carpet set against the dark metals that formed the inside of the Imperial Palace. Banners hung from the walls, proudly displaying the emblem of the Empire. It was not the first time she had been here, far from it. She had hated this place as much as she hated any other part of the palace. But never in her wildest dreams had she expected a scene like this.

Hundreds of soldiers had died here, common grunt, noble officer and Magitek Knight alike. The walls were partially melted from the exchange of spellcraft, the carpets blackened from unchecked fires that devoured everything it could. Cadavers covered by brown leather were heaped into makeshift blockades, weapons still penetrating innumerable bodies. The stench of death was everywhere, for though the Imperial Palace was cold, it still retained a bit of heat and some of the corpses had begun to decompose.

Anthony and Miles spread out, but the Imperial Throne Room was easily secured. There was only one entrance and that was where the majority of the bodies laid. Terra's spells searched for life, but as expected, none were left alive.

It was Gossman, the unassuming Imperial officer, who approached the throne first. Terra watched as the man walked along red, bloodstained carpet slowly, almost reluctantly. She had seen the same feelings reflected in all the faces of Norris' men, they were simply stunned at how battle could have spread to the Imperial palace. They had grown up defending this place and considering the strength of the Empire, it might have been inconceivable that such a disaster could have stricken Vector.

Shortly after the Esper strike on the Imperial Capital, Terra knew many in the Emperor's Court had felt the same. Back then, their emotions had been directed towards Terra's brethren. Many called for the destruction of those who dared attack the crown jewel of the Empire. Others had been dissuaded from fighting, saying that they had caused the disaster in the first place. But the one thing that had been uniform was disbelief.

While her mind was stretched out ensuring no nasty surprises within the palace, her eyes watched Miles, Anthony and Gossman closely.

There was a single person draped across the Imperial Throne. Blond hair and bloodied plate armor could be easily seen; a spear had gone clear through the chest. Bodies lay around the tall metallic chair as well, less densely packed there than anywhere else in the room. Many still gripped their blades, some of which were actually embedded in another corpse. Even dead, the soldiers fought on.

Terra made her way through the cadavers, her spirits uplifted suddenly. Perhaps there was a silver lining in this thunderstorm. If Anson Tilton was dead, then the Civil War would end. After all, there needed to be a leader of the New Order if it were to fight back.

Gossman rolled the body off the throne. He glanced down at the corpse.

"Who is it?" Terra asked. She was careful to keep the hope out of her voice. All three Imperial men were sombre; it would be rude of her to be anything else.

Gossman sighed. He bent over and closed the eyelids of the dead man. "Fighting until the very end," he whispered respectfully.

Terra's spirit darkened. Judging by his attitude, this was not the villainous Anson Tilton.

Anthony and Miles, bow and axe in hand respectively, made their way to the throne as well. "Who is it?" the one-eyed Miles echoed Terra's question.

Gossman stood. "General Hector Caleigh."

Sharp intakes of breath accompanied with whispered curses. Neither Miles nor Anthony looked particularly pleased.

"I thought he was the enemy?" Terra asked, confused by the display of emotion. Hector Caleigh had been Anson Tilton's most trusted and loyal supporter. Had the General not have backed Anson Tilton's claim to the throne, the Civil War would never have happened. The military would have remained of one mind, removing the pretender with relative ease and then dealing with the death of Emperor Gestahl properly.

Danielle Meras had branded Caleigh a criminal and a traitor. Remiel Lilienthal had helped Danielle attack Vector to dispose of the pretender. There was no reason for Norris' men to respect this dead general.

In the awkward silence that followed Terra's question, the three soldiers chose to examine random cadavers more carefully. Even Anthony, who was typically quite friendly, ignored her. Terra cleared her throat in annoyance.

Gossman turned around with a look of perplexity. "Terra," he started softly. "As a Returner, I suppose the destruction of Vector doesn't affect you in the same way as it does us." He approached her and put a hand on her shoulder as she was about to dispute his claim. "Not to say you don't have compassion, but you haven't spent your entire life working to safeguard-" he spread his arms and gestured around him, "-this."

No, but she had been imprisoned here for nearly her entire life, Terra retorted mentally.

"I knew General Caleigh," Gossman continued. He stared at the corpse of his enemy. "Half a year ago, I had been recently promoted and an excellent position within the Imperial Guard opened for me. General Caleigh had personally bestowed my rank, we had worked together for a while and he awarded my service. Two days later, Norris approached me and asked if I wanted to go to Albrook. I'll tell you... if it wasn't for my wife and her love for the ocean, I would have been here during the Long Night. I would have been here during the Siege of Vector."

Gossman gestured at the pile of corpses at the entrance of the Throne Room. "I would have been here defending the throne, like any other proper soldier."

Terra folded her arms, closing her wolf mantle in the process. She was impressed by the eloquence of the man.

"General Caleigh was never an ambitious man. He had his heart in the right place, protecting the Empire in his own manner. We might disagree with his actions, and certainly it was unacceptable for him to prop up a false Emperor, but everything he did was to protect the Empire; to ensure peace and prosperity for all peoples."

Gossman turned back to Terra, his eyes blazing with anger. "Anyone that desecrates Vector is the real criminal! Anyone that slaughters the thousands of innocent lives out there and sets fire to a city of over a million must be brought to justice! General Caleigh died fighting these barbarians, and I swear we will continue his battle." He turned and spat, hitting the leather armor of a corpse nearby. Splatter could be seen over a bloody, embroidered insignia. "The Maverick will burn for this."

"Enough!" Miles called from beneath the entrance archway. "Anson Tilton is clearly not here, we'll need to find his body as well."

Terra glanced back to the empty throne as the three Imperial men gathered near the front. Hector Caleigh had died here, one final valiant stand with the remnants of his forces. They had to have been hemmed into the room, a dead-end without any possibility of escape. They had fought to the last man, taking with them probably some two or three times their number.

Surrounded by the dead, she wondered what would have happened had Emperor Gestahl not died. Would the Civil War have broken out? Would so many lives have been taken? The bloodbath she had seen in the streets of Vector rivalled any scene she had witnessed even during the Empire's war with the Northern Continent. The dead claimed by this fallout had easily matched the numbers Danielle had predicted; oh so many months ago back in Tzen.

She had helped Danielle and Remiel come to an alliance to end the war. The treaty aimed to save life though. What was the point of Farin's work in Albrook if so many had died anyways? She had tried so hard to reverse the fallout of the Long Night, almost slaughtering innocent scientists in order to prevent lengthening the war. And even though it was Vector, even though she both hated and feared this place, even then...

"Terra!"

As Terra Branford strolled through the sea of dead corpses, she wondered what she should have done to prevent such a catastrophe.

---

Locke frowned as they turned yet another darkened corner. His eyes were sharp, but in the near-pitch-dark hallways of the Imperial Palace, they were of little use. It was just enough to guide them through the passageways as they delved deeper and deeper into the bowels of the royal residence.

Norris had been silent throughout their trip, instead pointing when the hallway split into several. He seemed to know where he was going, and the old man had no trouble navigating the darkened passageways, so Locke did not complain.

Suddenly, the passage ended. An old wooden door was in their way, which collapsed the moment Sherwood put his foot through it. A trail of sparkles shot form Norris' fingertips, flying into the opening as all the men covered their eyes. The blinding flash of light filtered through even that, but they had been prepared. Locke dove through the opening and quickly scanned his surroundings, twin crossbows ready to take down the sightless.

Both Imperials followed after him, nosily tossing the door aside as they did so. A faint glow appeared; Norris had cast some sort of illumination spell. In the dim but constant white light, Locke examined the old furnace room they had broken into.

"This is it?" Locke asked in amazement.

"I had expected a bit more, Norris," Sherwood pointed out as well, his eyes still scanning the machinery as if monsters would jump out at them at anytime.

Locke glanced down at the layer of dust covering the ground. He seriously doubted there were any threats down here.

Norris strolled forward without replying, causing the pair of archers to exchange confused looks. Locke quickly matched Norris' pace, trusting that the old Magitek Knight knew what he was doing. He watched the Colonel mutter under his breath, seeming to count each aged and discarded boiler.

A secret passageway, that's what they were looking for, Locke surmised.

His guess proved to be correct the moment Norris stopped, turned towards an unassuming brick wall, and pressed three fingers against a brick at eye-level. A strange glow spread around his hand and then with a bit of rumbling, the wall slid aside. Norris strolled in without a second-thought and though uneasy, both Locke and Sherwood followed.

The tunnel was a long spiral staircase that wound higher and higher. Norris no longer seemed to be concerned about potential threats, so Locke had a feeling that the Magitek Knight had done this several times before. He radiated a sense of disinterest that could only -- considering the state of Vector -- arise from the boredom of habit.

The stairs ended and another secret door slid open at Norris' touch. Locke and Sherwood entered the room after Norris, their crossbows sweeping across one of the most luxurious and beautiful rooms Locke had ever seen. A royal bed the size of a cabin, covered with silk sheets and a closed canopy was only the start. Locke's eyes indulged and feasted on the treasures before him: the works of art, the shimmering jewels and the precious metals. Even the rug below their feet was a masterpiece, woven with threads of gold and silver, and inlaid with pearls, rubies and even rounded diamonds.

Sherwood swore under his breath in surprise.

"This is the Emperor's room!" Locke declared. The emblem of the Empire was clearly displayed on the walls, hung from the ceiling some ten men-high. An impressive chandelier hung between twin arches of marble, one that put the House of Lilienthal to shame. The crystals... the diamonds... Locke heard Norris order them to guard the entrances, but he was busy tallying the cost of the room. The rug alone must have weighed several tons... and he noted with astonishment that there was still much more to explore.
Locke followed Sherwood as they explored the Emperor's personal chambers. It consisted of six rooms, each as large as the first bedroom, as well as a massive hallway to connect them. Statues lined the sides of that center passage, but the light was too poor for Locke to read any of the inscriptions.

"Place is clear," Sherwood announced. He strolled out of a dining room, looking around in amazement at all the antiques and fine arts.

"I don't understand how this wasn't ransacked," Locke mumbled as he strolled out of a study with more books than most libraries. His eyes wandered across the huge doors that probably connected to the rest of the palace. As he did so, Ifrit, the magicite hanging around his neck, seemed to grow warm. Locke's vision wavered and it seemed like there was something flowing across the surface of the twin doors.

"These are nothing special," Sherwood took his hand off the polished wood. "Not even metal... it doesn't make sense why this area is still unsullied."

"Magic is blocking any access from that direction," Locke answered. He returned Sherwood's surprised look with a snide, confident smile. But while Locke was sure of the magic that barred entry, Ifrit's warmth was something wholly new. Not since the dangers upon the Floating Continent had he felt the departed Esper react this way.

Locke stormed back into the Emperor's bedroom, intent on getting them out of there. But Norris was crouched on the floor, a small globe floating over his shoulder giving off a faint white light, leafing through dozens of folders.

"Colonel?"

Norris glanced up from his readings, a pronounced frown on his face. "Yes?"

Locke narrowed his eyes suspiciously. In the dim lighting, he had caught some of the words on the parchment. Faster than Norris could respond, Locke lifted a folder clear from the old man's lap.

"Hey!" Norris tore the folder from Locke's grasp. But it was too late, Locke had seen enough to know what the Colonel had been reading.

"I'm not going to ask how you knew about that secret passage. I'm not going to ask how you knew these-" Locke pointed at the coloured folders, "-were here. But I want to know why the hell we're in the Emperor's private chambers reading about Terra's life!"

Norris matched the angry, betrayed look on Locke's face equally. He stood up, carefully picked out a beige folder, and slapped it against Locke's leather-armored chest. "Read it," he growled.

Locke didn't even look down at Norris' hand, but continued to glare at the face of the wizened old man. "I don't care about her past," Locke rebuked. "It's just history. I trust her."

Norris pushed his hand harder against Locke's chest. "Read it, and then tell me that."

Locke slapped Norris' hand away. The folder fell to the ground, papers flying all over the expensive gold-threaded rug. "I trust her," he repeated indignantly. He watched impassively as the Magitek Knight waggled a finger, papers seeming to float across the ground of their own accord and back into the opened folder.

Norris bent down, picked up the folder, and held it out to Locke once more. "I never asked you to stop trusting her," he replied. "But unlike you, I am well-versed in magic. I'm a lot more concerned about her health than you are because not only did I witness everything that happened at Gwendolen Ford, but I understood it at a metaphysical level."

The outrage Locke had been feeling weakened just a bit.

"I knew she was in Vector over a year ago, standing right by the Emperor and three of the most powerful Generals in the army. Since even I didn't know about her existence until then, it must have been a highly guarded secret. So where would the Emperor keep his most precious, classified documents?"

"Why didn't you ask her?" Locke growled.

"Because that won't get me the truth. I needed objective records, and it seems like I found her life history in the process. I should have known she grew up here."

"You should have trusted her and asked her directly, instead of deceiving her and-"

"Locke," Norris interrupted. "Did you even, just once, try to rationalize the events around Gwendolen Ford? Or have you been too busy trying to push it to the back of your mind?"

"I know what happened," Locke growled. "The Maverick-"

"-is irrelevant. Four Magitek Knights went after us specifically that day, one of whom I knew personally, so before you convince yourself that it was all coincidence, try to understand that it was not an insignificant assembly of rookies. An elite taskforce that could lay waste to ten times their number ambushed us! They went after Terra specifically, luring her away from the main force so they could capture her!"

Locke scowled. "And?"

"Are you daft? They wanted Terra, badly, and we have no idea why. Maybe you enjoy being ignorant, but I didn't live this long by wilfully ignoring what I don't understand. This Sophis business is important enough for four Magitek Knights to risk their lives. They brought enough men to kill us a dozen times over. Are you following me yet?"

They glared at each other, an awkward silence settling in. Neither made a move in the darkness of the Emperor's bedroom. It was Sherwood who broke the stalemate, having grown tired of staring at an inert, magically blockaded door.

"We're going to be late," Sherwood announced as he took the folder from Norris' hand. He held it out to Locke and addressed his commander. "If we're done here..." he trailed off, waiting for the Colonel to speak his piece. But nothing happened until Locke reluctantly took the folder. The Returner made a show of shoving the parchment into his pack.

"Let's go back," Norris ordered.

---

They reconvened at the entrance to the Imperial Palace, humbled by what they had seen. It was not the first time they had seen such slaughter, the soldiers of the Empire had seen such scenes many times throughout their careers while Locke and Terra had been on the receiving end of Magitek cannonade. This was different though. This was a slaughter unprecedented by magnitude and unbelievable in venue.

Fanshaw was but a fraction of the massacre here.

"We haven't found Anson Tilton yet," Gossman was saying. "It's possible that we might have missed him in the ocean of corpses, but we should assume he's still alive."

Terra didn't pay much attention as Norris' men discussed their findings. She only stared out over the ruins of Vector; the rubble stretching past the horizon, homogenous in the devastation. "There are survivors," she stated softly. "They must have fled in droves when it became obvious that the capital was taken."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Norris said. He shook his head sadly. "I'd like to believe it, but this is Vector. I don't think anyone expected that the Maverick would allow his men to destroy the capital, even those being subjugated."

The Maverick; he was the bloody conqueror of Maranda, a remorseless power-monger that had betrayed his allies and was now a monster that had turned on his own people and slaughtered them by the millions. Norris had also believed that Maverick Drummond was behind the attack on Fanshaw and the commander of the men that had ambushed them at Gwendolen Ford. Terra folded her arms, her mood darkening as she thought about their enigmatic foe.

"I'd like to know how any soldier could have done such a thing," Miles growled. "This was home."

Not for everyone, Terra thought. She turned back to the Imperials, but her eyes made contact with Locke's. She gave him a questioning look, but he quickly turned away.

"What do we do now?" Gossman asked.

Norris sat down upon the arm of the broken Guardian, wiping off a layer of snow before he did so. So massive was the war-machine that his feet didn't touch the ground. "There are a lot of political considerations to be carefully weighed now," Norris said.

"Why aren't we continuing to Tzen?" Terra asked.

Norris sighed. "Vector has fallen. This changes everything. Even if Anson Tilton is still alive, such a loss would destroy his popular support within the army at least, if not within the general population. In addition, if he were to lose control of the Palace... the symbolism would topple the New Order."

Locke gawked at Norris as if he had grown wings. "Are you suggesting we stay here and defend this city with seven people?"

"No. But we need to stay here until I can get a few more teams to defend the Palace. We'll get reinforcements from Karen and keep control of this place with a hundred men."

"That's lunacy," it was Sherwood who spoke up. "Locke's right. There's no way we can hold the Palace, even if we had a thousand men! Now assuming Anson Tilton is dead, the New Order still knows that Vector has fallen. A lot of people managed to escape the slaughter. After all, that's how we found out something terrible had happened in Vector... when thousands raided every single home in a week's radius for food and shelter. That'll bring reinforcements from the New Order... at least an army or two."

"Norris, with all due respect, Sherwood's right. The New Order probably has an army coming this way," Gossman added. "The civil war might have screwed around with all the garrisons and the Core contingents might be lacking central leadership, but this is still the Core. Even Mansfield is only a week's march away. Tens of thousands could be here within the day, and that's ignoring the Maverick! He sacked Vector! That alone should tell you that there are several divisions out there that might swing back and retake the capital."

The old Magitek Knight's gaze slowly panned across each of their tiny group, at last settling on Terra. He looked her in the eyes.

"It's an impossible task," Terra offered. "We should continue to Tzen."

Norris sighed again. "The Civil War could end right now," he stated. "We destroy Anson Tilton's legitimacy and bolster our own with a single stone. He has no support. Hector Caleigh is dead. The remnants of the House of Lords assist General Lilienthal. We have very little to lose if we hold the Palace, even if it's just a token force that has to retreat in a few days. But if the phantom reinforcements don't show, if the New Order is in the massive disarray I hope it is in, then we end this war with our actions."

Terra found it difficult to disagree with Norris. As much as she wanted to see Relm once more, this was an incredible opportunity to actually end the Civil War.

"We're going to follow whatever decision you make, Colonel," Gossman quickly added. Everyone was concerned over Norris' melancholy attitude.

"There's no reason not to try," Terra answered Norris' unspoken question. "We'll-" she caught a weird look from Locke, but ignored it, "-stay with you."

Norris stood up. He turned around and stared at the great, broken machine that he had just sat on. "Thank you," he whispered with his back turned, dwarfed by the corpse of the Guardian.

---

Setzer Gabbiani folded his arms, closed his eyes and tried to distance himself from the flurry of activity about him. It was hard. His sea-legs were more than capable of maintaining balance despite the turbulent waters, but noise assaulted him every second. He could hear the sound of waves breaking upon the hull and the low growl of the approaching thunderstorm. Wind and seawater peppered his face no matter which way he faced. With a great sigh, he gave up trying to seek just a tiny bit of inner peace.

He readjusted his hat.

"Mister Twig!"

Setzer "the Twig" Gabbiani turned around only after ensuring that the brim of his hat was facing outwards properly. The man approaching had even bigger hat, a gaudy thing with gold trim and a feather sticking out of the top. Setzer had been on many ships in his life. Only one kind of person wore such a headpiece and got away with it.

"Captain!" Setzer acknowledged with a respectful nod.

The Captain, known only as Drake even to longest-serving men aboard the Golden Arrow, was a large man who had deserted the Imperial Navy. Tales about Captain Drake were usually embellished heavily if not outright lies, but Setzer knew a former military man when he saw one. Drake maintained law and order with a crew of bandits. He was respected by most and controlled the rest through terror. Drake was intelligent, capable and ambitious. He was also arrogant and full of pride, which contributed largely to his fall from grace, or so Setzer assumed.

"Mister Twig, I expect good news!" Drake growled.

Setzer nodded. "Mister Williams over there-" he pointed to a young lad they had picked up only two weeks back, "-has a good eye. The freighter is heavily-laden and no doubt we outgun them. In addition, we've got the weather-gauge. Finally, some luck!"

Drake nodded gruffly. "Very good Mister Twig!" he turned away. "Beat to quarters!" he began to shout more orders.

Setzer sighed. He knew what he was about to do was terrible, but he had no choice. Fate had forced his hand, he couldn't hold out anymore without taking a chance! Months back, he had expected making his way to the Northern Continent to be a non-issue. Passage was never truly difficult for those that were motivated, even during the height of the war. However, he had never expected the Imperial Army to commandeer everything from tiny yachts to massive freighters. It had been the first time he had ever an issue finding a ship.

Those who still sailed freely, though all flew the Imperial Banner, did not help him. No one sailed to the Northern Continent. It was a deathtrap, they said. "Anyone with half a mind would turn back, if the storms and monsters didn't claim you, the navy on the other side would."

Setzer had trouble finding someone in command with less than half a mind, so he had hatched a desperate plan. It had taken three tries, but on the third attempt, pirates raiding a coastal village had seen fit to take him aboard. Pirates! Setzer thought sadly. Outlaws had grown fat while the Imperial armies were busy murdering one another; in the absence of authority they pillaged and raided to their heart's content.

At first, Setzer had been stuck with bilging and other disgusting jobs. It had been then that they had labelled him as the Twig. Setzer didn't mind, it was nothing more than a nickname and also helped hide his true identity. During his time as nothing more than a slave, the physical labour had helped rebuild his crippled body. No longer was he gaunt and sickly, still weakened from the poison that had kept him asleep for weeks and nearly claimed his life, but once more he could stand tall and strong.

As his body strengthened, Setzer made sure to stand out whenever an officer was near. After all, he was a master of sailing. From rigging to fleet tactics, Setzer lived and breathed the language of vessels. He was quickly promoted as his skills became obvious. There was jealously from some older members of the crew, but Setzer had made many friends while he was the Golden Arrow's whipping boy. Few could forget what humble origins Mister Twig came from; he used to clean slop right beside them! Thus he had eventually gained the eye of Captain Drake.

That had been a dangerous time. Rumour that Mister Twig was actually an Imperial agent spread like wildfire, but few could argue that the former-cripple had always remained loyal. Not once had he left the ship since he boarded, not even when they went ashore to celebrate their riches with drink and company. Captain Drake's suspicions quickly passed. Indeed, most now assumed that Mister Twig was once an Imperial sailor, one of high standing that had become disfranchised and left for the freedom of the high seas. Perhaps that had been part of the reason why Drake had trusted Setzer so, but Setzer had never once substantiated those rumours. They made him very uncomfortable.

Then raiding had gotten tough. The Imperials had returned with their big frigates and the seas were no longer safe for men such as them. The Golden Arrow had gone from being laden with treasure to sneaking along the coast hoping for a village to raid. It was pathetic, but unlike their other pirate brethren, they had not been defeated by the Imperial Navy.

It had been several weeks past since their last successful raid, almost called off as an Imperial frigate had neared. Indeed during that time, Drake's first mate had been killed in the chaos of their hasty retreat. Later, Mister Twig had taken his place with few disagreements. The Golden Arrow largely adored their newest officer.

Now as they came upon a freighter, of Imperial origins but lacking an escort during these tough times, Setzer brought the eyepiece to his eye and smiled. He set down the telescope and ran over to Drake. A fake scowl was on his face before he spoke with the Captain. "Sir! Imperial soldiers are aboard, I counted at least three on deck."

Drake was quite eloquent at times. He proved this once more with a string of colourful curses. "How many would you say there are in total, Mister Twig?"

"On a ship that size? At least twenty, I'd reckon."

"That's a good guess... and a big problem if we storm'em. We have'em outnumbered, but those soldiers could hurt us badly," Drake cursed again. "Twig, get me the Bosun and then ready yourself. We're going to have a tough fight ahead of us."

Setzer nodded. Captain Drake intended to board himself, a rarity but he was a professional trained with a blade and they had few that could claim that. Setzer had proven his own duelling skills to be amongst the best -- furthering his reputation as a fallen Imperial sailor -- and so would be amongst those leading the charge.

During which, Captain Drake would fall.

Setzer ran through the mass of dirty sailors to find the boatswain. Unfortunately, he had gotten to become friends with Drake. Even though he had intended treachery the entire time, he had no choice. In order to become the first officer, he had to have the friendship of the Captain. Now it was time for that to end.

Reassuring himself that Drake was still a criminal, Setzer yelled orders to the boatswain. Once Drake fell, Setzer would have command of his own ship. In the outburst of emotion following the Captain's death, Setzer would ensure that the Golden Arrow made her way to the Northern Continent. Easier pickings away from the Imperial Navy, he would say.

Setzer retrieved his cutlass and with a cringe at his commander's pompous hat, took his place on the quarterdeck beside Captain Drake. The freighter had seen them finally and was already tossing crate after crate of valuables into the waters. It was a futile display, the Golden Arrow had the wind to her back and was closing on an excellent angle. Setzer turned to face Drake once more, the scarred fallen soldier still shouting orders.

A thunderous roar shook the Golden Arrow. The turbulent waters about the freighter exploded in spray and with a cheer aboard the pirate vessel, one of the enemy's masts fell down in a shower of wooden shards.

The battle had begun. Setzer's grip on his cutlass tightened. I'm sorry, Captain, but my real friends need me.

---

It had only been two days since they arrived in Vector when Sherwood returned. He and Miles had been sent south along a safe, but short route to Karen Alysworth and the armies entwined at Maley's Point. In that time, Norris and Terra had been hard at work weaving spells galore to protect the Imperial Palace. Years of experience combined with untapped potential turned the Imperial palace into a magical deathtrap.

While Gossman and Anthony cleared the halls of the dead, Locke had taken the opportunity to secure an escape route. He understood Terra's decision and respected it, but danger was ever-present. They were in Vector, center of the Empire, and attempting to hold the Imperial Palace with five warm bodies. It was lunacy and he would not blindly trust Terra's judgment on that matter. He nodded with satisfaction after a day of digging through the rubble and mapping the dark tunnels beneath.

The escape route he had discovered wound its way through the bowels of the Palace and into the sewage tunnels. It had taken every waking moment for Locke to find a path -- he had gone through three pads of paper stolen from palace -- but success was at hand.

When Locke returned to the surface with the route burned into his memory, things had changed for the better.

Sherwood looked idiotic on his chocobo, and Locke made sure the quiet soldier knew it. But the archer had returned with a squad of fifty-men and incredible news.

Maley's Point was no longer a massive blockade. The timely arrival of General Remiel Lilienthal, the Knights of Odin, and an additional twenty-thousand men had swung the contest heavily to one side. The New Order had cracked and retreated. In the chaos many cavalry squadrons had been sent into the Core of the Empire. This was one of them, and Sherwood led them through the ruins of Vector, through broken gates of the Imperial Palace to a surprised but relieved Magitek Knight.

"Miles has continued south to report; though he will likely be reassigned given recent losses," Sherwood told Norris while Terra explained to the newly arrived men how to avoid the magical traps throughout the palace. "The main force has already received several survivors from Vector, I think a lot more escaped than we thought. The leader of this squadron was sent directly here, it seems like General Alysworth was concerned."

"I expected that the Major's talents would be needed elsewhere..." Norris nodded several times with vigour. "Good! This is good! And news of Anson Tilton?"

"None, though scouts have been sent in all directions. The New Order is quiet, but it's not falling apart," Sherwood replied. He scratched at his scalp of long blond hair. "Still, I think Vector can be safely secured though."

That had been an optimistic assumption that both Locke and Norris did not share.

Two days and five-hundred additional men later, Colonel Norris Ferdinand was the de-facto leader of Vector. Then General Remiel Lilienthal had made that official. In a terse rescript, Norris was told to take control of operations concerning the safety of the capital until friendly armies could safely reach Vector. The New Order had not yet given up and had been harassing Lilienthal's forces to a great extent. Supply lines were collapsing and the advance was delayed by weeks.

It set off alarms that told Norris the New Order was still functioning under a competent, central leadership. He sent scouts in every direction, focusing on the city of Mansfield to the east. The Maverick was still out there, and Norris had confided in Terra that it was to the west his fears laid, but then those thoughts became irrelevant.

A force about five-thousand strong was discovered marching towards Vector from Mansfield. The banner of the New Order was flown with pride. Another fifty-thousand was behind them. Ten days it had taken them to recover from the sack of Vector and rally that kind of force to its succour, but now they were ready to contest control of the capital. They had expected to be fighting against the vicious barbarians that had destroyed the jewel of civilization, and so the odds were all that much more stacked against the insignificant foe that had secured the Imperial Palace.

Indeed they were insignificant. They were outnumbered a hundred to one and in a briefing room located in the Imperial Palace, debate had quickly devolved into heated bickering. There were cowards aplenty in the ranks that had reinforced Norris' original team and Terra found herself disgusted by the newcomers. They only thought of themselves, too afraid to accept the possibility of sacrifice for the greater good.

As Cyan might have said: typical Imperials.

Terra pulled Norris aside. "This is going nowhere," she whispered.

Norris nodded. "Things have only gotten worse now that we know Anson Tilton is leading the advance force. Our hopes that the forces arriving had been hastily assembled and thus of lower quality have been dashed."

"How long do we have?"

"Perhaps until this evening, not much more than that. General Alysworth is closest to the capital with her forces but even at best speed, advance elements won't be here before dawn," Norris strolled out of the room with Terra trailing behind.

Guarding the doors had been three men Terra did not recognize, as well as Locke. She smiled at him and he returned the same, but he was obviously under a lot of stress. Terra waited until they were out of earshot before speaking. "They don't seem to follow your leadership despite your rank."

"They're fools," Norris growled. "Too long have they faced nothing more than monsters... and I am not half the commander a real General is. I can barely keep the men in check, much less have them stand firm in the face of certain death."

"If only Leo were here," Terra mumbled under her breath.

Norris raised an eyebrow. "If only!" he exasperated. "Though if that fantasy were reality then the war might have been averted. Few would dare go against the honourable General and he would never have allowed the situation to degrade into civil warfare."

"I'm surprised I haven't been garrotted, considering the loyalty throughout the Imperial ranks to Leo," Terra remarked. They were strolling through one of the cleared halls of the Imperial Palace. It had yet to be restored, walls still showed signs of fire damage and blood stained the metallic floors, but the festering dead had been removed before disease took hold.

Norris chuckled softly. "I take it you have had some experience with that ill-founded rumour."

"I was under the impression that more than a few people believed I was involved in his assassination."

"There might have been only one thing more persuasive than loyalty to General Christophe and that was distrust of General Palazzo. I, and certainly the men under my command, never believed that rumour for a moment; spread only because Kefka's original lies of treachery would have failed even more pathetically. Never forget, Terra, that you were seen standing beside the Emperor and Leo in front of thousands. That is an image that is difficult to reconcile, especially when one takes into account Kefka's character."

Terra nodded. "So the Imperial Armed Forces aren't of one mind on that matter, I'd imagine," she pointed out.

"That, and many more," Norris answered. "Though in this case, I'd laugh at any who believed such a lie. It's indicative of deeper troubles within the army: our inability to question our superiors. I guess in the past, that kind of free-thinking would have been grounds for a court-martial. Treason, insubordination, who knows what kind of charges a commanding officer could bring to bear? So instead, we end up with sword-wielding sheep," he sighed wistfully. "What we need is a great leader... the men will follow any with strength of will, and that would end this damned war."

Terra clasped her arms behind her back and thought about Norris and Karen's conversation just a few days earlier. Factions amongst the Imperial Armed Forces with controversy that ranged from more than just a difference in leadership... "If Tilton successfully retakes this place, what happens?" she asked as they strolled through the halls of the Imperial Palace.

"The Civil War continues," Norris answered plainly. "Without Danielle Meras, we don't have the forces to keep our back secure and lay siege to Vector. The entire countryside seems to rise against our forces, the New Order has somehow managed to persuade even the common folk to reject us," Norris shook his head in disbelief. "Our forces arrive to protect them from monsters, offer food and shelter, yet they're still fighting us. I wouldn't have believed it if it wasn't in so many different reports!"

"There are five-hundred of us at most," Terra continued, ignoring Norris' comments. She knew what the reports said; she had been reading them as often -- if not more -- than Norris did. "Against just Tilton's advance force-"

"I know the odds," Norris snapped. The pair of magic-users had gone out to a balcony now, a place where the two had discussed many things over the past week. It was secretive, safe, protected, isolated, and most importantly, it offered a view of Vector to constantly remind them of the true cost of war. "It would be absolute lunacy to stand our ground. We'd be lucky to delay them even an hour, even if their forces didn't have any Magitek Knights with them!"

"This Anson Tilton," Terra continued. "Everything I know about him is second-hand, but I'm under the impression that he's smart, brilliant, charismatic, and extremely popular."

"Somehow despite the loss of the capital," Norris growled reluctantly.

Terra stared out at the pulverised remnants. The winter sun shone down and illuminated the snow-covered destruction for all to see. There had been no time to clear the rubble; it would take months to restore Vector to even a fraction of its former glory. "I still don't think it's a lost cause. The war has to end," she said passionately. "Anson doesn't sound stubborn. Maybe he'll listen to reason."

Norris smiled. "Have I told you how much I admire your spirit these days?"

Terra clasped her hands behind her back. "Not recently."

Norris chuckled. "You're right, and I know exactly what we should do."

"Really?"

"Anson is coming here blindly. He has not sent out scouts or else we would've encountered at least one of them, so he has no idea what's in Vector. Certainly he knows the general situation with the retreat of the Maverick and his barbarian horde, but he can't have an accurate assessment of our forces."

Terra nodded. She could see where Norris was going. "We're going to bluff."

"Partly," Norris replied. He gestured to the east. "Before the sun sets tonight, we're going to force Anson to the bargaining table. I hate to admit it, but he's a smart man. He knows what the loss of Vector will do to the Empire. In our mutual weakness, we'll co-operate for the greater good."

Terra smiled. "A peaceful resolution?"

"An attempt," Norris grinned. "It'll require one hell of a facade."

Terra folded her arms. "And since you can't detach too many people from the palace, you want me to come with you," she smirked. "That's your plan, isn't it?"

Norris' grin faltered. "Anson Tilton isn't your average scientist," he warned. "He's also surrounded by powerful men, as well as some of the better Magitek Knights. It would be best if we didn't come to blows."

Her long grey hair shimmered under the winter sun. Terra Branford drew her wolf mantle around her as if it were regal in nature. "I wouldn't worry," she dismissed his concerns.

---

There was something about the situation that brought a smile to Terra's lips. Perhaps it had been that a force of barely twenty men had stopped the march of five-thousand. Or that they were attempting to stave off another ten times that number with smooth words and the threat of the unknown. Even better, success meant halting the civil war and saving millions from suffering the fate of those in Vector.

They had ridden to intercept the New Order's advance forces openly; after all they were a diplomatic mission. Armored chocobos met them along the road, no doubt alerted to their presence by more stealthy elements. It was the first time Terra met soldiers of the New Order, but they didn't seem too different from the Imperials she already knew. Brown leather and grey cloaks hollered for them to halt, swords drawn and arrows nocked. Their sigils proudly bore the black and red of the Empire, though it was tempered with something that Terra had never seen before.

It was a splash of white beneath the black emblem, a shadowy kind of effect that looked oddly like a hammer.

The New Order's cavalry wasn't all too impressive, and it seemed they thought the same of them. Norris spoke with their Captain, the two men alone and an equal distance away from both groups.

There were no Magitek Knights amongst the New Order's soldiers, so Terra knew they were in no danger. She explained the situation to Locke, who had ridden slightly ahead of her and was eying the New Order riders. He didn't relax, but shook his wrists from side to side. She had gotten used to seeing that motion, Locke did it to ensure his wrist-mounted crossbows were clear of his sleeves.

At last Norris waved to them and they were off. Their group of twenty rode with the New Order at a brisk pace until they left the road and trampled into the deep snow, chocobos slowing down substantially as they cut across the plains. Twenty minutes they crossed the countryside as such, nothing but farmland and a few speckled buildings -- abandoned houses -- in the distance. All of a sudden, the New Order's squadron of chocobos veered towards a specific farmhouse. As they approached, they could see that it was swarming with soldiers. Tents had been hastily setup around the two-story house, carriages were being unloaded, and chocobos were tended to.

"It seems like Anson Tilton has prepared a little meeting for us," Terra remarked as she dismounted.

"This couldn't have been done on such short notice," Norris said under his breath. "Sherwood," he turned to the dark-haired soldier. Of Norris' most trusted men, only the archer had accompanied the Colonel along this mission. The rest had been ordered to stay back in Vector.

While Norris and Sherwood spoke, Terra turned to Locke.

"I don't like this," Locke was already beside her. He kept his voice low. "This was planned in advance."

Terra nodded. "I can sense a number of Magitek Knights," she whispered equally quietly. "Be careful."

"I'll get us out of this if things get rough, don't you worry," Locke exuded confidence. "Keep your mind on Tilton, I'd like to see this war end just as much as you do. I trust you."

"Thank you Locke," Terra beamed with joy. She felt a tap on her back.

"Let's go," Norris said as the smile on his face melted away.

---

The staircase railings were broken, but was of little concern as they strolled into the meeting room prepared on the second-story. It had been recently cleared of rubble; broken glass swept aside and snapped pieces of wood tossed into another room. It smelled of mildew and the floor was caked with dirty water and half-melted snow. Yet a clean, freshly varnished table was in the center with six comfortable looking chairs as well.

No one was sitting though. Five figures stood at attention, each wearing a piece of unassuming, brown leather armor. Three men, one boy, and a woman. Three of them had been imbued with magic, Terra discerned this before she noticed any other features. The ones capable of spellcraft were two of the men and the lone woman.

The man in the center was still wearing his grey cloak. He stood tall -- not a large man but imposing nonetheless -- and the New Order's emblem was proudly displayed above his heart. His hands were clasped together, a look of amusement on his face. His brown hair was brushed back and around his neck hung what looked to be a pair of spectacles.

Norris stepped in first, Sherwood trailing and then Terra last. Locke had stayed outside the house with the rest of their escort, though Terra didn't doubt he would be close at hand if things got rough. Her eyes drifted from the man in the back-left corner, of large muscular frame and long black hair, to the woman at her immediate right. She was also in brown leather, a wicked pair of short-swords strapped by her right hip with blond hair cut so short that it reminded her of the clean-shaven heads of Reinhardt and Donnach, Farin's friends.

Terra hadn't scanned either of the two Magitek Knights, they might have felt the intrusion. But her gut told her they were inconsequential, unlike...

The man in the center was staring intently at her. She had pulled off her hood, grey locks cascading down her shoulders as she did so. There had been no time to dye her hair and Norris' men had gotten used to it anyhow.

"Colonel Norris Ferdinand. It has indeed been a while," the center man said without eyes leaving Terra.

Terra didn't back down from the stare and returned it with equal intensity.

"Anson Tilton," Norris addressed the leader of the New Order without any titles. "It's been a while since I stepped foot in the Magitek Labs."

Anson's amused smile grew as he broke eye-contact with Terra. "Yes, though I had never thought that Governor Lilienthal would allow you to head a diplomatic mission. I must admit I'm rather surprised that you would be here at all." He gestured through the broken window. "I would think that you would be placing all your efforts into defending Vector."

Norris crossed his arms. "We're tired of war after witnessing what has befallen our proud capital. General Lilienthal had delegated sufficient authority for me to parley with you. Further fighting over the corpse of Vector would benefit no one."

Anson was certainly nothing like the scientists Terra remembered. Neither introverted nor erratic, he had the air of a leader about him; a General of equal authority to that of Remiel or Danielle. He was about Edgar's age and carried on in a fashion similar to the Figarian King. He was certainly a pleasant sight to behold, without the scars of battle blemishing his face.

He didn't look like a pretender to the throne though. In fact, Terra didn't get the feeling that Anson had claimed anything at all. He was dressed modestly, General Leo would have looked more pompous next to Anson, and spoke with little indication that he was nobility. She had expected someone similar to those she met at the Messis Luna. All of Remiel's guests had been cut from similar cloth; of high society or royal upbringing. Anson Tilton was neither.

"Yes... well Colonel, you could say that no one really desires war," Anson replied. He had not yet made a move towards the seats or table and didn't look like he planned to. "But yet here we are, fighting against former colleagues and allies."

"Mister Tilton-"

"Anson, please."

Norris sighed. "Anson, if you simply saw what Vector looks like, you would understand."

"I have already witnessed, with my own eyes, the barbarism that Drummond has displayed of late," Anson folded his arms. "Norris, I'm only entertaining this meeting out of respect, for you, and the notion of peace. But don't think for a moment that you are fooling me with this charade."

Terra frowned. He knew?

Norris was impassive. "We do want peace," he stressed.

"We?" Anson echoed. "Perhaps you do, you've seen more than I ever have and I thank you for your years of service. However, both of us know that you report to Remiel Lilienthal. There's certainly no chance that he would entertain any sort of peaceful treaty between us. He's part of the old guard."

Norris was confounded. "I am here-"

"As a pawn of the nobility," Anson interrupted. His colleagues nodded briskly as he said so. "The very same House of Lords that feared the late Emperor enough to pass resolutions stripping him of his title and powers, the same House of Lords that begged me to take a subset of Gestahl's authority, and the same House of Lords that ran to the House of Lilienthal when the common folk rose up against them, those are the people you represent."

The elder Magitek Knight was struck silent. A frown creased his face. "And yet none of that has anything to do with our desire for peace," he answered at last.

Terra frowned. What was going on here? Why was Norris not refuting Anson's statements? She knew Norris well enough to tell that he was being awfully passive. Where was his characteristic mocking laughter?

"It has everything to do with this, for knowing the motivation of your command tells me that this entire meeting is absolute bullshit. I'm insulted."

"This meeting is for peace, and if you're telling me that you don't want such to entertain-"

"Colonel Ferdinand!" Anson slammed his hand upon the table and rudely silenced his elder. "I have had enough of the games! Even if I didn't know how weakly Vector is defended, how you spent the last few days weaving spell after spell in the halls of the Imperial Palace-"

Terra barely stopped the surprise from showing on her face. How did he know?

"-even if I was stupid enough to enter Vector without knowing the numbers I face -- even assuming all that, Ferdinand! -- even then I wouldn't take your statement at face value! I know Remiel Lilienthal," Anson growled. He shook his hand at Norris. "I know he can't stand that sight of me! He hates my very existence and I doubt very much that he has even acknowledged that the New Order exists, much less send his pet Magitek Knight to bandy sweet words and forge the makings of a truce."

"And here you are, with the gall to continue lying to my face. Desperate, aren't you?" Anson folded his arms again and quickly regained a calm countenance. "So desperate you would risk exposing yourself in order to stall my forces for just a few hours so that Karen Alysworth could send reinforcements." He shook his head sadly. "Whatever good a few hundred chocobos would do," he muttered under his breath.

Dumbfounded, it was the only word Terra could use to describe the feeling in the atmosphere. Even Anson's colleagues were taken aback by what their leader had revealed. The young boy and the male Magitek Knight in the back corner exchanged looks of concern.

"Nothing to say?" Anson asked. He did not seem at all smug, but looked disappointed. "I can't say I blame you. I considered your situation and that is why we are here in this abandoned home. It crossed my mind many times to simply kill you for your deceit. The sheer arrogance of what you expected to get away with was simply insulting! If Hector was still by my side, he would have counselled for your deaths to pave the road to victory."

The leader of the New Order ran a hand through his greasy brown hair, taking a deep breath while Norris attempted to recover. "But Hector is dead," he continued in a softer, more humble tone. "Vector has fallen, her once glorious splendour reduced to rubble. Several hundred-thousands have been slaughtered by the barbarians that once called themselves Imperials, and this is in addition to the hundreds of thousands that have already died in the past several months." Anson Tilton spread his arms and his grey cloak opened regally, like that of a make-shift cape.

"I felt compassion, even a small gesture, would be monumental."

The moment was awkward, to say the least. Terra could see that Anson's colleagues, still not yet introduced, had not known what was on their leader's mind. They seemed astounded at Anson's words -- why were they here if the entire meeting was intended to be deception from both parties? Equally surprised, but without showing anything on his wrinkled face, was Norris. To his left, Sherwood gave no outward sign of aggression but Terra was sure that he had already worked out an escape plan with Locke. The blond-haired archer watched the big, long-haired Magitek Knight at the back-left corner of the room; it appeared Sherwood had accurately pinpointed one of the magic-users without spells of his own.

As for herself, she calmly waited for the proper moment. In the meantime, she would listen to the words of Anson Tilton and evaluate the situation accordingly.

"Anson," Norris said at last, one hand had drifted down to his hip and pretended to smooth out the wrinkles in his robes. "I never thought you were stupid. You are the inventor of the Aegis Enclosure, which alone speaks volumes. But if all that you said is true, then your compassionate streak will only cost you the capital. Why agree to this meeting and a small display of mercy when it would weaken your bargaining position with my power-hungry commander?"

"I had thought you more clever, Colonel Ferdinand," Anson smiled. "There is a reason why we are so far off the main-roads and it is not for my protection."

Terra went white. He didn't!

"You never stopped your army from marching," Norris accused.

"They will arrive in Vector within two hours," the leader of the New Order acknowledged. "In return for an insignificant number of my troops, I have removed you, Colonel, from the equation."

"The notion of peace indeed," the old Magitek Knight snorted.

"Cold numbers," Anson responded. "Remiel Lilienthal was never one to be popular with Magitek Knights. Your support of the Governor aside, I doubt very much any other senior Knights to be in the ranks of Albrook. I, on the other hand," he gestured to his bodyguards, "can easily afford the loss of a few if your men are deprived your command, experience, and spellcraft."

Norris straightened. "You would dare strike ambassadors of peace?"

"Nothing so crude," Anson replied instantly. "I am not as ruthless as Lilienthal would have you believe, nor a despot without a sense of mercy." His gaze hardened. "But until my forces are firmly in control of Vector again, none of us shall leave this house."

Terra had heard enough. She flexed a gloved hand and called the power forth.

"-You will not be harmed though. As you insinuated, it is unforgivable to attack during a meeting of peace."

Terra hesitated just before the white sheen covered her vision. It took great willpower to avoid visibly morphing.

Norris did not seem to know what his most powerful ally had just intended, for he had crossed his arms and returned the same deadly look that Anson had given them. "Not unless you wanted to be known as the next Kefka."

His words, perhaps not aimed at her, still broke her will for the fight. The power receded as quickly as it had been called with a modicum of shame.

"I would like to believe there are no more men of such immorality in the upper ranks of the Empire," Anson replied. "The people could not bear such another embarrassment, nor would the army support any leader who showed such warning signs."

"And yet they supported you when you issued unacceptable demands to Alfort-Brougham," Norris growled.

"Playing the blame game now?" Anson asked with a smirk. "I suppose after knowing that your bluff has worked against you, there's nothing left but to regain a measure of dignity by insulting me verbally."

The elder Magitek Knight did not take the bait. His anger, as brief as it was, faded away.

"Remiel already had his troops mobilized long before I demanded the nobles of Albrook and her territories to support the demands of the Equality Crusade. That rescript was one long since drafted by Emperor Gestahl from his glory days, but left to gather dust when the nobility opposed him vehemently. He had neither the force of will nor the desire to break the bourgeois that were steadily strangling our Empire. His mind was always outward, never inward, and instead of repairing the growing difference between factory workers and owners, he directed our industrial capacity towards war with other countries."

"I have heard inane speeches like this before," Norris replied. He pulled out a chair and rudely sat down. "Let's just say I am unimpressed with your rhetoric, Anson, nor that of the hundreds that advocated the destruction of factories for any number of reasons. The Empire has grown strong thanks to our technology and the nobility joined by the talented factory owners that were once common folk, just like your humble origins until your ascension as the head of the Magitek Factory."

"And yet many of the common folk suffer on the streets and cannot find work outside the army. The world is unfair, but the Empire is civilization and shelters her people," Anson replied passionately. "Protection from monsters is but one thing that our government can provide. Why not help those in need? Why not give food to those who suffer on the streets? Why not provide shelter and warmth to all who are under the umbrella of the Empire? We have bent our will towards spreading civilization to other nations and now nearly the entire world bows to the might of our armies. Why can't we turn all that industrial might towards providence?"

Norris frowned at Anson's idealistic words. The bodyguards were clearly enamoured by their leader's speech.

"Because of the old guard," Anson answered his own question. "The nobility and the newly ascended business owners wish to keep their power and wealth. The House of Lords has long since strangled any movement towards equality. Fortunately, they were too frightened by what Emperor Gestahl had drawn from the darkness of the past. They turned to me, for I was popular with the army and yet without close ties to the Emperor. They thought I was a naive commoner, a tool they could use to reshape the Empire. Instead, they provided me with the powers to force the change they had feared for decades."

Anson smiled. "And when the common peoples of the Empire supported me -- when my good friend Hector Caleigh would not listen to the House's assassination orders -- they ran to Remiel Lilienthal, champion of the rich and noble."

Terra felt shivers run down her spine. Was this how the Civil War started? This was not what she had been told! Instead of a struggle between power-thirsty despots, was it an internal struggle over providing for the poor?

Could she be on the wrong side?

"You say you want to help the common people, but this war has only hurt them," Norris answered in a soft tone. It appeared the old man was attempting to fight Anson's seductive words. "Those in poverty are always first to fall to starvation, to disease and the chill of winter. Continuing the civil war has only put their lives at stake while the rich lounge comfortably far from the lines of battle."

"Revolution cannot be always bloodless, nor can I stop the avalanche I have begun. The peoples of the Core have risen. They have had enough of the nobility and the heartless bourgeois. They see Remiel Lilienthal as a dictator, and those that ally with him nothing less than exploiters of the Empire." Anson Tilton glared at Norris, still standing with his cloak open like a cape, and hammered the table with his fist. "Veterans have come to my aid and the academies overflow with volunteers for the army! The fall of Vector has only breathed fire into my people. We will retake our fallen capital and spit on those that dare strike the Empire; the New Order!"

"They forgive you for your inability to protect the hundreds of thousands in Vector?"

"I asked for their forgiveness when news arrived to me in Mansfield and they have," Anson answered sadly, diminished. His arms dropped to his sides and his cloak cascaded around him. "But they will never forgive the ruthless barbarians that have struck Fanshaw and Vector. Fire flows through the blood of the New Order and retribution will be had. That is why my forces will retake Vector, not because of our numeric superiority but because we have righteousness on our side, for you are nothing more than murderers!"

Norris shot to his feet. "We did not attack Fanshaw or Vector!" he screamed, enraged. Terra's eyes went wide; she had never seen Norris lose his temper in such a fashion.

"Your ally," Anson hissed.

"Drummond is not ours!" Norris snarled. He leaned aggressively over the table and stuck a finger in Anson's face. "I have sworn to kill the fucking Maverick with my own hands; I saw first-hand the debauchery in Fanshaw. Don't you dare think for a moment that I had anything to do with that barbaric bastard!"

Anson took a step backwards. "Calm yourself Norris, I know what happened in Fanshaw. I was not there for it but the reports were clear. But don't think for a moment that recants the sin of what you had planned to do to my hometown."

Norris' eyes went wide. He retreated a step back and bumped into his chair. "How-"

"Not everyone in Lilienthal's camp is there because they believe I am a pretender to the throne," Anson replied stoically. "There are many that believe in my cause and work against you. Or did you think that the men you had given such free reign, to think for themselves and express even contradictions to your command, were unable to see the situation beyond the sweet words of Lilienthal?"

Speechless. Terra had never thought any of Norris' men could be traitors and she was a Returner! Norris was stricken into submission; a father betrayed by his sons.

"I was merely stating the fact that Lilienthal seems to be the head of the treacherous provinces to which the nobles have fled. That the Maverick so callously snuffed out the jewel of the Empire only proves to the people how little they're cared for by the old ruling class, for who is hurt most by the loss of Vector but the million that lived and worked there? Things are even worse when one realizes that all the nobility have fled the Imperial Capital."

Norris was obviously unable to respond, his wrinkled face looked dozens of years older. Terra found herself unable to remain silent any longer though.

"If everything you say is true, then retaking the Capital will only continue the war indefinitely," Terra said, surprising everyone for until now, there had been an understanding that only the heads of their respective parties would talk. "Remiel will never back down, so you'll only continue the bloodshed that you hate so much," Terra judged Anson.

Anson frowned at her interruption, but Norris was incapable of reigning in his subordinate so Anson redirected his forceful gaze back at her. Similar to when they met initially, she returned his penetrating glare with one of her own.

"I don't believe we've met," Anson remarked.

Terra folded her arms but did not offer her name. "I don't generally speak with warmongering hypocrites," she said instead.

Anson raised an eyebrow at her rebuke. "As I said, I do not want this war to continue any longer than it must. But I cannot simply call off the war without reason. The people demand vengeance and restitution. I am simply their most vocal supporter. They lead themselves."

Terra refused to be swayed by his honeyed tongue. He had the power to stop the war, all he had to do was allow Norris to make good on his word. She didn't believe Remiel would be unreasonable, especially if Norris had returned with a treaty on his hands. The leader of Albrook had dealt with Danielle and forged an alliance there, why would it be any different with Anson?

No, this man was preventing the truce that would end the war. He pretended to want peace, but did not jump on the opportunity before him. He pretended to care for all those that had been slaughtered, but only gave orders to continue the war.

It made her blood boil.

"-They lead themselves," Anson was saying.

Terra's eyes had drifted down to the floor unwillingly as she thought of all the lives that she had seen taken. Of the ruins of Fanshaw and Vector, of the deaths she had witnessed and the struggle that she had been thrust amongst. She thought about Farin and Norris' desires, to protect and save the innocent from the horrors of war. She thought of the refugees fleeing the Core and the sea of cadavers within the Imperial Palace.

"I might be the main representative of the New Order, but I have never claimed the powers of the Emperor," Anson said. "The House of Lords gave me one title, First Citizen. That is what I continue to be, not a dictating leader, but merely a symbol of their will."

Hooded eyes were drawn to Anson, his aura unassuming but for the passion that inundated his soul. Yet he still possessed the leadership qualities that had drawn millions to follow his commands.

"A symbol that must be unmade," Terra growled in a deadly voice.

She would never fail again; to take action when decisiveness was necessary; to end the Civil War.

The white sheen took her instinctively. In an instant, great feathered wings expanded and flames swirled about an outstretched arm. Time itself bent to her will.

Magitek Knights, his protectors, her allies, too slow were any to react. They had not her power; insignificant in comparison and even the best were mere pretenders to the seraphic powers that flowed through her veins. The eldest -- the wizened Norris -- was experienced but time had eroded his reflexes, not that he would move to stop her.

Anson Tilton was frozen in surprise as she revealed herself. Fire shot forth from Terra's lithe form and blasted towards the leader of the New Order at incredible speeds.

But it was not instantaneous, and there was but an instant for him to react. It was enough for a yellow shield to appear, and even as it buckled, the combined spells of his bodyguards came to his succour.

And amidst the inferno that suddenly raged, Terra saw something she had never, in her wildest dreams, expected. In the eyes of Anson Tilton, there was neither fear nor anger. Behind the reflection of the roaring flames, there was...

There was adoration.

A second volley of fire, dozens of times fiercer and hungry for prey, had already come into existence. But instead of adding to the inferno that threatened to engulf the entire dwelling, it paused at the command of its mistress.

No one else saw those eyes, wide-open in astonishment and filled with reverence. In the crimson glare of the blaze, Terra decided to be merciful.

Even as the flames retreated, Anson Tilton had fallen to one knee. Before the smoke had vanished at Terra's command, the Magitek Knight bodyguards had done the same.

Sherwood had been in motion, twin crossbows aimed at those dangerous magic wielders. Norris had also snapped out of despondency, spells readied to add to the devastation Terra had begun. But to see their enemies fall to their knees with heads bowed was cause for even the most heartless, experienced Imperial soldier to hesitate.

Terra's blood-red eyes had never left the leader of the New Order. Her purple hair fluttered without a breeze and her feet had lifted off the ground ever so slightly. Her wings had been spread wide, almost in Sherwood's way, and the aggressiveness of her posture was not lost on Anson's remaining upright colleagues. The soldier and the young boy had both stepped back, gawking openly at Terra's change and their leader's submissive stance.

"Sophis," Anson whispered.

That word. She had heard it before. "Explain yourself," her authoritative voice seemed to echo in the sullen air.

Still head bowed and eyes on the floor, Anson spoke reverently. "My Sophis, forgive me! We had no idea you had already descended! The books; they had said your coming would not be for decades!"

Beside her, Norris had backed up several paces. He seemed unperturbed, not a hint of surprise was on his face.

Terra coldly noted his apprehension; but this was not the time for an inquisition. "And yet I am already here," she glowered at Anson's kneeling form.

"Please forgive my insolence, Lady Goddess! We have worked for decades to prepare for your arrival. We would never dream of harming you!"

"Look at me," Terra demanded. She did not understand what was happening, but...

Anson's eyes looked up. They were subdued and humble dark globes that told Terra one, undeniable truth.

Anson Tilton worshipped her.

"Who is this 'we'?" Terra asked. The aggression in her voice had faded away, she was confused but willing to play the role that the leader of the New Order had seemed to think of her.

"The Loyalists, my Goddess," Anson replied in a half-panic. "Since the end of the War of the Magi, we descendents of Mage Warriors have worked in secret to prepare civilization for your return. Though I fear that the ancient texts were not as accurate as we believed."

"You..." Terra struggled to speak the word, the sound of it was so preposterous. "You worship me?"

"Everyday of my life," Anson whispered. "There are few of us remaining, and none still with the abilities that had been blessed upon us. But in the recent years, that has changed! These two," he gestured to the two Magitek Knights on their knees, "they are of the proper descent. Forgive the insolence of the rest; they are not as devoted as we."

Terra's bloodlust had all but disappeared. She looked at Norris, whose suspicious expression told her that she had not gone crazy. This was indeed happening.

She, Terra Branford, was being worshipped by the leader of the New Order. Anson Tilton, a man whose intellect had given him vast political powers, whose charisma and foresight had made him popular beyond imagination within the Imperial Core, this man had thrown aside all dignity to grovel at her feet.

To be honest, Terra found it flattering.

"You say you're devoted to me, but you reject the peace that I came here to forge," Terra said. She briefly wondered whether she should revert, but quickly discarded the notion.

Anson visibly swallowed. "I had not realized it was you. I didn't think-"

"What about now? Will you prove your devotion by walking along the road to peace?" Terra interrupted, her voice still echoing of its own accord in the heavy air.

Anson frowned. "I did not lie, Sophis. I cannot stop the armies; they would merely find another capable of delivering speeches to take my place."

Terra folded her arms. "That is unacceptable. I have had enough of this war. It has claimed too many lives!" she growled angrily. Her voice echoed menacingly in the small room.

Had Anson not been on his knees, surely he would have taken a step back. Instead, his face was ashen. "It's possible," he stammered. "It could be possible to stop the battle for Vector, but without concessions from Lilienthal and Meras-" Anson took the opportunity to glare at Norris. I know about your secret alliance, he said without words.

The two Magitek Knights still kneeling shifted uncomfortably. Terra quickly motioned for them to stand again, and Anson took to his feet the moment she gestured.

"-without at least a total ceasefire," the leader of the New Order continued, "guarantee of amnesty for all troops, halting of military activity and official apologizes for the crimes of the Civil War, not to mention recognition of the Equality Rescript, I don't think I could keep the armies from beginning the war with another leader."

Terra frowned. She looked at Norris.

"Those demands are insane," the elder Magitek Knight said. He had recovered from all the surprises as well as could be expected. "At the very least, we are not even in constant communication with General Meras. I can't guarantee what she would do when given such a haughty ultimatum."

"What can you do, Norris?" Terra growled. She didn't like the way he was avoiding the topic.

Norris' brow furrowed in thought. "Cessation of military activities, war crimes ignored, apologizes extended if those of the New Order are willing to do the same. I can promise that much, though certainly not on General Meras' part."

"That's unacceptable," Anson said. Terra glared at him and he quickly qualified his statement. "Listen, you can't expect some two-hundred thousand soldiers to put down their weapons when half the enemy forces won't promise to do the same!"

"General Danielle Meras will agree to a ceasefire," Terra declared. Both Norris and Anson looked at her in bewilderment. "I speak for her," she explained.

"I didn't think you were that good of friends with General Starson," Norris grumbled under his breath.

"If the Sophis says so, then I am willing to begin preliminary negotiations," Anson stated. He ignored Norris' expression. "Recognition of the Equality Rescript could be delayed until both Generals are here, but official apologizes, excommunication of the Maverick, in addition to declaration of him and his followers Domus Proditor, those must be immediate."

"Domus Proditor?" Terra echoed.

"Something only the Emperor can do," Norris explained with a wrinkled frown. "It officially brands one a traitor to his homeland."

"It would be legitimate so long as our Triumvirate agrees," Anson pointed out. "This leads me to the next point, that until official negotiations, there will be a loose coupling of leadership through a council between our three leaders."

"You would cede the majority to an alliance that is already in place?" Norris asked.

"It would only be for, at most, a month. And I would not think that during that short time, much more than humanitarian aid would be discussed. Vector is in ruins and the people require the full support of our armies in order to survive through the winter."

Norris nodded. He mumbled to himself, quickly going through all of Anson's terms.

"I believe we have a truce," Terra interjected before more demands were made and things became unreasonable.

Norris's gaze drifted from the handsome visage of Anson Tilton to the pale skin, feathered wings and glowing crimson eyes of Terra Branford, and then back to the man that had symbolized the rise of the New Order and beginning of the Civil War. "It seems like that," he said. "Though we will have to act fast to prevent another conflict in Vector. After that, I will need to return to speak with my Generals immediately."

All eyes turned to Anson.

"I will leave now to halt the Fourth Army," he stammered. "With your blessing, Sophis?"

Terra nodded.

Anson Tilton pointed at the lone female bodyguard. "Catherine, you will tend to the Sophis. Tell her everything she wishes to know, I will be back by nightfall." He turned back to Terra, his gaze softening instantly. "No amount of delving into the annals of the past could have prepared me for this day. Since the moment I was born, I have been waiting for your arrival."

Terra Branford's feet slowly touched the ground. Her purple hair stopped fluttering the breeze that wasn't there, and her wings were drawn protectively inward. Glowing crimson eyes judged Anson Tilton.

"Thank you, my Goddess," his demeanour was nothing short of reverent. "You have stopped the Civil War."

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