Chapter 2

Zidane gripped the handle of a particularly pretty silver dagger in the castle armory, eyeing the engraving on the flat of the blade: old runic text that most likely had no meaning. A big red stone was mounted on either side of the hilt, and it was certainly a beautiful weapon, and yet…

"This knife's never seen any action…" he muttered, gently setting it down on the table and turning around to face his stash of old weapons from adventures passed.

The armory was a massive chamber beneath the castle, and an entire wing had been devoted solely to his amassed collection of swords, daggers, and swallows. He glanced to his left and watched a pair of blundering Pluto Knights attempting to find some obscure relic for Steiner – he would be on their case for days if they failed to obtain what he wanted.

Zidane had received many shiny weapons from various higher-ups in the two years since he had become the king, but none of them had the grit that his old standards possessed. Hanging on brackets in the stone wall was one of his personal favorites – the aptly named "Ogre". Made by fusing two Mage Masher's at the handle, it was a spinning torrent of purplish death. It was scuffed, dirty, a little rusty, and miles away from beautiful. But to him, it possessed a quality that nothing forged for his royal hands could own up to.

The only reason he was so picky about this matter was that, as a former thief, he couldn't stand weapons that were forged for honorable duels to the death. It just didn't suit him.

His gloved hand reached out for the Ogre, which he swiftly spun around behind his back and snapped it into a leather belt strapped across his torso. He was going on a little journey today, and wanted to fight something…anything.

"Maybe I should…bring a pair of daggers?" he mused, eyeing a particularly "gritty" pair of Orichalcons he had purchased in Bran Bal, on the now-destroyed Terra. Better to be safe than sorry, after all. With a flourish, he spun and holstered each in the scabbards on either hip.

He was wearing the black, gold, and red cloak he had worn yesterday at the theater. He rather liked it. It was warm, unrestricting, and, well, to be completely honest, disguising. It had a certain class that he liked, as well, for that was one thing he did like about being the king – a lot of his clothes were really good looking.

With a full selection of lethal weapons with which to behead some fowl beast, Zidane turned towards the door.

The female soldier at the door saluted crisply. "Your Majesty, the Red Rose is ready for departure!"

Zidane nodded and silently walked through the double doors. The dark corridors in this part of the castle were a sharp contrast to the white, luminescent hallways directly above him. As he passed under a bracketed torch, he felt curiously lost for a moment.

Walking up into the sunlit foyer through a door in the corner, he spied Garnet speaking with some foreign dignitary over some trivial matter – he looked to be from Lindblum.

"Very well. Alexandria would be most happy to donate, say, thirty million gil to Burmecia to aid in the reconstruction. How much did you say Regent Cid was donating, again?" she asked. For a moment, Zidane was caught in a stupor while staring at her beautiful face. He was still very much in love with her.

"The regent is donating anywhere from seventy to one hundred million, your Highness. I believe he is going to make the final decision based on how much Alexandria donates," replied the dignitary, looking very stiff with his stiff robes, stiff hat, and stiff face.

"In that case…" Garnet began. She then spied Zidane standing across from her and smiled. "Zidane, come here! We're going to donate some money to Burmecia! What do you think?"

Zidane ambled over, attempting to look as casual and slack as he could in contrast to Stiffington here. A funny thought suddenly hit him: What if this guy's name was actually Stiffington?

"Well," he said, rubbing his chin dramatically. "I'd say we donate fifty million. We've got a surplus lately…and Alexandria DID cause the damage after all… It's up to you, but yeah."

Garnet nodded. "Okay, fifty million. Tell the regent that we'll be transporting it over to Lindblum in a week, okay?"

Stiffington nodded, and then bowed low. "Thank you, your Highness. I believe the regent will be most pleased."

With that, he turned about in the same manner as which he did anything, ergo, stiffly. Steiner saluted as he passed through the palace doors, and he was seen no more.

"What a statue…" Zidane muttered. Garnet laughed lightly.

"Well…we should do our part to help, shouldn't we?" she asked. Zidane nodded heartily.

"I just can't believe how long it's taking for Burmecia to rebuild. Lindblum rebuilt in four months."

Garnet nodded solemnly, staring at the marble floors.

"Well, I'm off to the Outer Continent for my bi-monthly "Obligatory Visit-the-Family Day"," he stated, rubbing the back of his head with his right hand.

Garnet merely mumbled something, apparently lost in thought. Then she caught herself. "Oh! Okay. So that's what the weapons are for…Okay, see you tonight…I hope."

Zidane gave her a passionate smooch that made her blush and then ran out the palace doors.

Immediately after the Red Rose passed over the southern shores of the Outer Continent, Zidane spied the exit of the Fossil Roo and mused at the trading camp that had built up around it.

The real cause of the new global expansion was Cid's steam engine. The Red Rose had been expertly modified to use one, and ran almost like a natively-steam ship. It "hiccupped" every once in a while, but hiccups were better than building a completely new ship.

Cid had gone on to construct the Hilda Garde IV, V, and VI before halting production on the Hilda Garde line and moving onto something even bigger and better. Last he and Zidane had met, he had been reluctant to divulge specific details, but from the gist of what he had said, it would make steam power look like a wind-up toy.

Conde Petie was practically the hub of the Outer Continent now. It never really expanded, given the fact that it was, after all, a single building, but traders parked their ships above the temple whenever they needed to dock, and a camp similar to the one at the exit of the Fossil Roo had formed just outside of the little town.

"I guess that's what we call progress," Zidane mused, twirling an Orichalcon in his right hand.

As they passed over Conde Petie is began to rain, and soon Zidane was forced inside by the wicked onslaught.

The pilot said something about a new clearing, and Zidane glanced out of a window at the forest near the Black Mage Village; indeed, a wide swathe of land perfect for an airship had been carved out of the forest. That saved Zidane about an hour of walking through the thick woods, but it also meant he probably wouldn't be killing any monsters today.

As the Red Rose settled down in the clearing, Zidane ran out on deck and leapt overboard, landing on all fours.

"Hey, it's Zidane!" said a Black Mage near the exit of the clearing. Another looked up from behind a stack of hay bails. "Hey, it is!"

It turned out that the Black Mage's limited life span was variable. Out of all of the originals, more than seventy percent were still alive and well, and there seemed to be no end in site. Zidane rather hoped there wouldn't be an end any time soon, or a town full of soulless genomes might bore him to death.

As Zidane passed the pair of Mages, he smiled and said hello. They were all so nice – it was kind of funny.

Immediately, Vivi came running out of nowhere.

"Hey Zidane! How's it going?"

Zidane grinned, thumping his mage friend on the back. "Oh, you know…same ol', same ol'."

Vivi grabbed Zidane's hand and tugged him towards the center of town. "Everyone will be so glad that you're here! It's been really slow around here for a few weeks, and what with this rain…I've been inside all day! C'mon, come say hi to Mikoto!"

As Zidane passed a trio of genomes, he smiled and waved. They merely nodded and waved back, faces utterly devoid of emotion. He knew they would get there, though. It was just like with the mages – it happened for some quicker than for others.

The pair passed the chocobo hut, which had expanded to accommodate multiple birds, and entered what could be called "town square". Every Black Mage that passed by greeted him with some variation of "Hello, Zidane." The genomes either took no notice of him or simply nodded.

At Mikoto's hut, Vivi rapped on the door. "Hey Mikoto, Zidane's here!!!"

The genome came out of her door and smiled the sort of vacant smile that Zidane associated with other genomes. If he didn't know that she possessed a soul, he would think she was just like all the others.

She was interesting though. Some days she was really happy to see him (note that "really happy" in her case was more like "fairly pleased" to anyone else), but other days, she was mad, or sad, or just completely uncaring.

"Hey sis, how's life treatin' ya?" he asked.

"Oh… It is acceptable. You?" she asked.

Zidane faked a grin. "I'm great! Never better."

The trio entered Mikoto's hut and sat around a table. Mikoto poured three glasses of some sort of fruit juice and sat down.

"So when did you cut out that clearing?" Zidane asked, sipping what tasted suspiciously like Lindblum rummapple juice.

"About a month ago," Mikoto said. "The mages did the work – they just cast fire spells and then put it out with water."

Zidane nodded and stared out the window at the gray, rainy sky. He wasn't used to seeing rain fall on the Outer Continent. "So…have any of the genomes…made progress?"

Vivi nodded, but Mikoto shook her head. "I think they have!" Vivi said. "They understand a lot of gestures and sayings! And they're starting to feel things too!"

Mikoto shrugged. "That's one thing, I suppose. But they're very vacant. Maybe they can feel feelings and taste tastes, but they're a long way from having a soul."

Zidane nodded. "We can hope, though. Maybe some day."

"I don't believe they will. After all, we were created with souls. They were meant to accept souls when the absorption was complete. I do not think they will ever get any," Mikoto said, staring at the table.

Zidane simply stared into his glass of what he now was certain was rummapple juice.

"Well maybe a soul is like something that comes to you after a while…y'know, like a song or a poem, or a beautiful painting," Zidane said at last, smiling at his sister.

Mikoto shrugged. "I don't get what you mean exactly."

Zidane grinned. "Sis, you still have a long way to go."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mikoto asked, a little ticked.

Zidane sighed. She still didn't understand a lot. But he cared for her so much. It was funny – when he was growing up, the last thing on his mind were siblings, but now that he had one, he felt like he had a different purpose…well, not different so much as expanded.

"Oh, calm down. You're cute when you're mad, though."

Mikoto growled. "I wonder if all brothers are strange."

Zidane simply smiled and took another swig of his juice.

After a few hours of visiting, as the sky darkened, Zidane decided he would have to go. As he made towards Mikoto's door, she followed. "I'll see you off."

As they walked out towards the clearing in the light rain, Mikoto suddenly spoke, catching Zidane off guard. "Don't lie to me, Zidane."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" he asked, glancing down to his right at her.

"You lied when you said that you were never better."

"Oh…," Zidane sighed, burying his hands in his cloak's pockets. "Well…I've been really…torn up about being the king lately. I can't take it! I don't get to do anything! I've got all of these responsibilities! I miss adventuring, and seeing the world…mostly I just miss my old troupe."

"I see. Well I don't know what to tell you to do. I suppose you had better not worry about us, to start with. We are fine here, so… yeah, don't worry."

Zidane stopped and turned to face his sister. She looked oddly specter-like in the cloud-covered moonlight. "Are you? Are you really?"

She replied with a yes, but her eyes said no. She had more soul than Zidane realized.

"If you ever need help…just get me. You've got friends on the Mist Continent."

Mikoto smiled her vacant smile. "Okay. But don't worry about us much. The mages take care of everything… Vivi's got his family…the genomes never get in trouble…"

They continued walking to the edge of the town in silence. Zidane stopped at the clearing and turned towards Mikoto.

"Well…Take care, little sis," he said, hugging her close. She returned the hug, which made him smile.

As he let her go and turned towards the Red Rose, she spoke. "Take care…big brother."

Zidane smiled a little wider.

As Zidane sat on his bed in his cabinet of the Red Rose, his mind wandered about the world. First he was in the Black Mage Village, imagining his sister's disdain at the vacancy of all of her brethren. He had the strangest feeling that she was crying this very moment; sometimes he felt what (he was almost certain) she was feeling at that very moment.

Then he drifted off across the sea to Alexandria Castle, where his sweet Garnet would be lying in bed, probably awake, awaiting his return. He knew that she knew what he felt about being king – she just never mentioned it. Maybe she felt sad about it, but he wasn't sure. He figured that it was more likely that she simply thought it would pass with time.

With that thought, his mind immediately turned to Baku and the rest of Tantalus, sitting (once more, he was almost certain) on the Prima Vista II, docked out over the Alexandria waterfall, talking (again, he almost knew) about him. He didn't quite understand how he knew all of this, and again, he wasn't sure that he did know, but it felt like some reality, some slim, undying truth. Maybe some of the powers that Garland had imbued in him were coming to life?

That made him think of Kuja, who, even though long dead, he still thought of often. The brother he had never known, who, despite having attempted on numerous occasions to annihilate him, his friends, and the world, he had still tried to save from the bowels of the Iifa Tree. He had honestly made a change at the end, but Zidane thought that he was probably better off dead. Even if he had honestly repented at the end, which Zidane believed he had, society would never forgive him. He would be branded for life.

Now Zidane found a new worry rising in the back of his mind, which he had thought of before, but never consciously: what if he became what Kuja had been? I he was truly discovering hidden powers sealed within him at birth, could he become twisted and corrupted? The rational side of his mind screamed "No! I would never become a bloodthirsty, greedy killer! I would never lust for power! I would never…wear a man-thong!" Meanwhile, the imaginative side of his mind, while agreeing with that last bit about the man-thong, came up with an image of a dark Zidane standing above a burning city, while Garnet cried on her knees beside him. And what scared him was that, with his position of power, that may not have been a pure fantasy.

Finally, overcome with emotion, he slammed his fist into the wall, before collapsing on his back. His mind cleared. "No. That's not me. I know it."

And yet, the little voice in the back of his mind cooed "Are you sure?"