Chapter 13: Growing Pains
Fanatics Tower"What do you mean you have to go?" Gabe asked his daughter as he felt his tough outer exterior start to weaken and his fatherly side beginning to show. How was it possible that Phoebe was this old already? Her golden hair was long and past her shoulders now, along with facial features that were very becoming of a girl her age. His daughter had become a woman literally in the blink of an eye.
"You're so silly daddy," Her response was juvenile in context but in some way logical to Gabe, "Kids go through growth spurts all the time!"
"But not three feet in one day!" He shot back at his daughter who had been an infant only a day earlier . . . but now . . .
Over the course of the night the priests had become bruised and bloodied in their task of detaining the little girl and were eternally grateful that Gabe was now there to take her off their hands. It was a miracle that they were still alive. The girl had thrown everything in the room at them, showcasing amazing strength that no child should be capable of when throwing tantrums. If they tried to grab her and put her into bed, she would fling them away easily and continue going about her business, not heeding their calls so she could devote time playing with toys that littered the nursery.
They thanked their blessed Kefka for protecting them through the evening and proceeded as fast as they could out of the nursery while Gabe distracted the so called "blonde devil". All ten of the priests made a mad dash for the door, screaming and clawing at each other when they became cramped up in the doorway. They pushed through the exit with ferocious anxiety, not caring about injury as long as they left their personal torture chamber. After a few seconds they were gone and the master of the tower found himself alone.
Gabe wasn't prepared for all the drama that had occurred in the last few days. The death of his wife Cirra and the break-in of the Returner's had left the bitter taste of needlessly shed blood in his mouth . . . and now this.
"I can hear mommy's voice," Phoebe told her father as she climbed up on a rocking chair and looked out the window of her penthouse nursery," She's telling me to come and see her! She told me that she misses me . . . Daddy, can I please go?"
"What? No!" It wasn't possible. Cirra had passed away two nights ago . . . "No going anywhere until I straighten this out, okay Phoebe?" This was all too strange Gabe thought to himself. Should he tell his daughter that her mother was dead and that it wasn't possible to be talking with her? Would she even understand the concept of death, or of love that a parent has for their child? But then again, under the circumstances anything could be possible.
He stared at the floor and tried to comprehend what was happening and how something like this was possible. The most difficult thing to explain was WHY it had happened now, and why to him. There had to be an explanation, some reason why he had been chosen to walk this cruel path that destiny had set before him. Deeper contemplation only drew blanks in his mind which caused his focus to shift over to the crib that he had made with his own two hands months ago in preparation for this week.
The thick bars of wood it had been composed of were cracked and broken on the floor, splinters lining the floor around all sides of Gabe. The clothes that had been made for Phoebe had been ripped to shreds and lay on the floor, leaving her almost bare except for a few strategically placed patches of what was still fitting over Phoebe's body. The leader of Fanatics Tower was a strong man of both mind and body, and one of his defining qualities was reason. But taking it all into account, thinking about every possible scenario had weakened him. He began to let any explanation cloud his mind, no matter how convoluted or spectacular it seemed . . . and then it dawned on him.
His daughter was put on this planet for a reason. Her story thus far seemed like that of a legend, something that happened only once every thousand years. Gabe didn't want to believe it, but Phoebe had been fated for something other than to be his child before he had ever come into existence.
'She looks older already,' he told himself, coming back into the moment after a few minutes in thought.
"May I go, Pleeeease?" Phoebe pleaded while grabbing on her dad's arm.
No one can stop fate, nobody can change what has already been predetermined since the beginning of time . . . Gabe knew this, he believed it.
" . . . " Gabe debated the consequences of his next action with both logic and the love in his heart, "Okay . . . you can go,"
Love won the battle.
"Before you leave though, come up with me to your mothers room. There are some things she would have liked you to have," he said, forcing a smile, "you need some clothes too," They both laughed as he put a woolen blanket over her naked skin and led her out of the nursery. Gabe held the blanket tightly around her innocent body and picked her up into his arms for the first time. Phoebe's hands draped around his wide, bulging neck and her smooth, childlike face pressed against his chest. Sadly, it would probably be the last time as well. The tough man felt bittersweet, holding back the feeling to sob as his daughter moved in lovingly against his embrace and snuggled against his warm body. Her father opened the door of the nursery with his free hand, a refreshing updraft surging up from below and meeting them as they stepped onto the stairway. The gust blew a couple strands of her shoulder length hair over her nose and caused her to sneeze. Gabe thought it was cute, chuckling at her misfortune before she turned and stuck out her tongue at him. They both had a good laugh while journeying up the stairs, but the fun died down as they got closer to the place where Gabe had lived peacefully with Cirra for the past few years of their lives.
Their paradise which stood on top of the world . . . the upward climb didn't take long at all, and in no time he was home, opening the door to the bungalow with a heavy heart while walking in with Phoebe on his shoulders. Gabe sat her down carefully onto the ground, letting her wander around as he took in the sight of the same exact room, the same exact feelings which had filled him the other night. He swore to himself that her scent was still there, lingering on the sheets where Cirra had once lain, soaked and stained with sweat. Water stained the ground and carpet from priests that had been careless carrying bowls of it to the bed, and blood could be seen on wrinkled up sheets near the foot of the bed where the baby had been delivered. It was still so fresh in his mind . . . so painful to be here again so soon . . . but it was necessary.
"Here are your mother's clothes," Gabe said as he pointed to a chest against the white painted wall, "Put some of those on. She would have wanted you to have them . . ." Phoebe skipped over to it as fast as she could and excitedly open the lid. Her total lack of concern or any inhibitions pained Gabe deeply as he watched her fling her mother's clothes everywhere, sorting through what she liked and didn't like. While doing so, the blanket her father had placed across her shoulders fell, revealing her naked backside to him.
"Whoa!" Gabe said, thrown completely off guard by her lack of decency. A normal father would have been used to an accident like this, changing diapers and giving their child baths over the year . . . but everything in this father/daughter relationship was far from normal, "Just tell me when you're done, okay? " He continued while turning around and looking out the window. The rays of sun shone brightly through the double pair of windows, illuminating the poorly lit bedroom in an almost angelic light. Only after a few moments, the shuffling behind him ceased.
"Kay daddy, I'm done" she told him abruptly. He twisted around slowly, catching her visage out of the corner of his eye . . . he almost cried.
"You look just like your mother Phoebe," Gabe comforted her, returning a slight, uneasy smile. His daughter wore a silky forest-green dress on top of a pair of comfortable brown pants. To top it off she wore a pair of walking boots which were a little big but she would manage. It seemed more like a battle uniform than something a dainty girl such as herself would wear . . . but if that was what she wanted, Gabe couldn't tell her no.
After modeling the outfit in the mirror for a few seconds, twirling around, Phoebe sighed and faced her father reluctantly, "Well, I'm going now," She stated, walking slowly towards the door. Her father remained silent, his head bowed in thought and remorse, letting her pass by without any acknowledgment.
"Wait!" Gabe yelled to her. The instincts of a father were still new to him, but he knew that she couldn't leave just as she was, "You're going to need some protection on your journey. I'm going to send-"
"No," Phoebe cut him off, " I have a feeling that mother would have me go alone. Sorry dad . . ."
"Let me give you something to keep you safe at least," Gabe rebutted as he grabbed his daughters arm lightly and led her eagerly to an impressive closet on the opposite side of the bed. He searched for the key that he hid at the foot of the bed, finding it and then unlocking the doors. They creaked from months of disrepair as they swung open all the way, and upon doing so, the father began to explain stuff to his child.
"This is my battle chest. Over the years I have collected countless treasures, weapons, and armor to be used in times of need, " He had swords from the best traveling merchants in Nikeah and S. Figaro, daggers from Tzen, sabers from Albrook . . . all of different shapes and sizes, and rare armor that he found in chests hidden in the deep caves of the wilderness, "You'll need a good weapon. People might try to hurt you while-"
"Mommy will protect me daddy, stop worrying, k? But that brown thing does look nice!" Phoebe said as she grabbed for a thick leather chest guard, "And that robe is pretty as well!"
"This one?" Gabe grabbed his old Tao Robe off its hanger and laid it over his shoulder. Phoebe nodded in agreement and held out her arms as father put the armor on her first. It looked too big at first glance, but once Gabe adjusted the straps and fixed it on her it was fine. After carefully tightening the armor onto her body, he lowered the vibrantly colored robe over her shoulders, straightening it so it covered most of his daughter's body, "This Robe will be very useful. It was once owned by a powerful shaman I knew, back during a time when magic existed. He imbued it with great magical properties, allowing it to mimic any surroundings and camouflage its wearer. However, now the thing is just a plain old robe."
"But it's still pretty!" Phoebe smiled politely at her father even thought she didn't care.
Gabe chuckled, "Yes, yes it is," He smiled to her and she grinned even more. She got on her tiptoes and pecked her dad on the cheek, leading him out the doorway before he could find another excuse to keep her their longer than she wanted to stay.
They didn't realize it at the time, but they had been inside the tower for quite a while. The sun had rose high into the afternoon sky already amongst a few scattered clouds. The entirely metal tower was starting to heat up in the sun, but before it became unbearable to walk on, the two made it to the bottom. A few priests were in the middle of their daily prayer, pacing back and forth along the ground, chanting to the Great Kefka when they saw Gabe come down the stairs with the young woman. Being taught to not ask questions directly to their master, they simply approached him and bowed in respect before going back to their prayer.
It seemed to take forever to get to the foothills of the mountains, but they eventually did. Gabe sure didn't want her to leave him . . . but this was fate. Phoebe looked for one last time at the tower that bore her as it blocked out the sun. It glowed on all sides, appearing to be a huge pillar of light. As she took in the sight for the first and last time, Gabe began to say his farewell.
"So this is good bye?" Gabe asked his daughter softly, almost sadly.
She snapped out of her sudden daze and responded to his query with a prompt tone in her voice, "You make it seem as though I'm not coming back," she was already sounding more mature, "I'll be back once I find mom, alright daddy?"
Gabe seemed to accept that response and Phoebe flashed him one last warm, carefree smile before taking the first step of her journey. The high priest watched sadly as she slowly faded from his view through the winding path leading out of the jagged mountain range, but as soon as she was gone he became his old self once more.
His thoughts shifted back to that of his affairs and to his plans that needed to be carried out before the deadline. The man became calm and cool headed before stomping towards the priests in the middle of their prayer and stopping their procession. With bowed heads they continued to tread forward, not departing from their single file line and bumped into their master with a jolt. They had no idea that Gabe was standing there till the lead bishop slammed into the head priest's rock hard body and tumbled backwards. He took a couple followers down with him to the ground and caused quite a stir.
"Something very bad seems to be going on. I want her followed, " their leader said coldly as he looked for his daughter's outline on the horizon.
"Yes sir, let us go get some supplies and-" the bishop's response was cut short as Gabe barked another order at them.
"No! Leave now!" Gabe shouted, "I can't risk losing her. I'll send more to assist you later. We can no longer be cautious and sneak around. And get rid of that stupid accent."
The eight worshippers of Kefka quickly took off their robes and revealed their true colors as agents of the Empire. They lined up in a formation before leaving, allowing their superior to give them a once over before heading out. All wore the same outfits now; a brown Iron Helmet with the insignia of the Mighty Empire, worn down but sturdy battle boots, and matching buttoned long sleeve shirts and pants. The bishop removed his robe to show underneath that it was the same outfit as the others except in different shades of green instead of their brown brown. Out of preference and against protocol, the sleeves on both his arms had been rolled up to reveal his bulky forearms in an intimidating manner. On his left shoulder were three embroidered crests of the Empire, indicating the rank of Commander.
"What are you guys messin' around for? You heard the general! Move out!" The commander shouted at his men, causing them to scatter and start on their mission right away. He then turned back to Gabe, " So I'm guessing that it's finally over, isn't sir?"
"Yes," Gabe replied. After 10 years of deep cover with the zealots at Fanatics Tower and Mount Zozo, it was finally time for the Empire and his Gabe's special-ops team to pull out. The plan would soon be in motion . . . it was finally over.
"Why did you make the decision to pull out now sir?" The commander questioned his superior.
"There is nothing left for me here . . ." Gabe told his subordinate as he thought about why he came back in the first place. He held such great memories of the tower. Playing as kids with Cirra and always getting caught by the guards, getting in trouble with his "parents", his first kiss on the rooftop with Cirra . . . the painful goodbye when he left the confines of the tower to see the world when in reality he was returning to Vector for training, the joyful look on Cirra's face when he returned, hearing that he was going to be a father . . . and then Cirra's death. His world shattered and all the feelings spilled out in the form of anger.
"Nothing?" the commander asked.
"Yes, nothing at all." Gabe sullenly replied, clenching his teeth and tightening his fist.
"What about the King of Figaro? He could pose us trouble if we let him stay here and live. The priests are already going to be suspicious enough," the commander continued to press Gabe for answers, pressing his luck to the edge at the same time.
"Leave him to me. I think that its time we had some fun with his majesty."
"What do you have in mind sir? Torture?" The commander still hounded Gabe instead of catching up with his squad, but it was okay for now.
"Oh, I have something MUCH worse planned for Edgar," Gabe said, smirking, "He's going to be a participant in 'The Tournament'."