Final Fantasy IV 100 Themes

3:Content

With every breath drawn it became more and more difficult for the young bard prince to move, but he pushed on through the darkness of the Antlion's Den.

Why the fair young man, frail of constitution and seemingly of spirit, had deigned to push himself through the air-starved cavern would be beyond the comprehension of anyone who dwelled outside of the young man's own mind. His reason's known only to himself, the prince simply knew he must not fail, despite being crushed by the weight of his own grief. He carried upon his chest a sorrow greater than any he could have possibly concieved in the dark depths of his consciencness. It was the grief of loosing the one thing that meant the most to you, of having your other half, the one who completed you so thoroughly, torn from you side in an act of selfless sacrifice. The guilt he felt was overwhelming, the countless 'what ifs' consuming his very thoughts.

What if I hadn't brought her to Damcyan?

What if I had listened to her and stayed in Kaipo?

What if... What if... What if...

But in the end he knew there was nothing he could have done. Fate, it seemed, was a cruel mistress.

Edward pushed himself forward and took another deep breath, nearly falling on his tailbone when a group of bats swooped down upon him from above, their eyes glowling scarlet in the dim torchlight. However, Edward suddenly found a sword of darkest ebony placed in between himself and the offending mammal. Eyes adjusting he was grateful to see the Dark Knight standing before him, his sword making a terribly graceful and deadly arc through the air. He could hear the sound of the blade rupturing the flesh of the animal, making a wet noise and then a violent crunch as it met the bone, the sound further punctuated in an echo that sent chills down his spine. But it fell to the ground, followed swiftly by its companions, all making a sick thud as they hit the dirt floor.

The Knight made a contemptuous noise with his throat as his flicked the remnants of the blood off of his sword, elegantly resheathing it. Then, without even an utterance, he continued to push forward. The sound of little feet hitting the dirt caused Edward to stop gaping at the living insturment of death and stare down at the little girl who stummbled after the man. She cast him a look that he couldn't quite read as he dashed past her, and he suddenly started to life, running to catch up to the Knight as he realized that he was carrying the light.

The man both frightend and fascinated Edward. Never in his life had he encountered someone with enough gall to hit him, yet this man had done so without so much as a warning. He held himself with a fierce and terrible dignity, making Edward feel instantly unworthy of the title he now found himself thrust into. Seldom did the man speak, but Edward sensed that his thoughts were a deep well of information, that he had seen unspeakable horrors and commited unspeakable crimes. Yet despite his darkened armor and seemingly terrible past, Edward felt that this man was a man of great character. And he was in love, something Edward could most certainly understood; though any attempts at questioning him about the mystery woman he was trying so desperatly to save from the throes of fever fell on deaf ears.

The first time Edward had seen the man without his dreadful helmet Edward had remembered feeling deep shock, which had evidently shown on his face because the Knight had frowned deeply. This man, this nameless Knight (do you recall Cecil introducing himself?), had the face of one of the perfect gods. HIs hair was like quicksilver (Chem fans know this is a reference to mercury, Hg), his skin as fair as the snow that dusted the tops of the mountains, and his eyes shown like to emeralds against peerless white marble. Most peculiarly, however, were his steel blue lips. Edward had never seen anyone, man or woman, with lips naturally that shade.

"Tell me about this Antlion," drifted the demanding tenor off of the cavern's rock walls.

Eward took a moment to respond, susprised that the Knight was deigning to speak to one he had accused of being a coward. When he spoke at last his mouth seemed to stutter like the stalled engine of a hover craft, "I- uh... I... Well," he tood a steadying breath. "The Antlion is a gentle beast," he explained, "we should have no problem procuring the pearl."

The Knight was silent for a long moment, and Edward began to wonder if he was going to respond, but at long last he replied; though it was not with a comment about the Antlion. "I intimidate you."

"I-"

"That was not a question," replied the man. "I intimidate you. What I want to know is why."

"I-" Edward took another breath and raised the torch higher to light a greater area." You seem so sure of yourself, so brave, and I do not even know your name or what kind of man you are. I am a King, and you make me feel..."

"Uncomfortable?" the man asked, his tone loosing some of its harshness. "You shouldn't feel such a way. You have in your posession something I have never experienced."

"And what is that?" Edward found himself asking, staring at the Dark Knight, who had paused to stare back at the Bard.

"Contentment. I have never been content with myself," replied the man. "And my name is Cecil Harvey."

"You have never been content?" Edward asked, but Cecil said no more.

Edward thought about his life and decided, at large, that Sir Harvey was correct. Besides for the recent events in his life Edward had been very lucky. He'd had loving and supportive parents, comfort and oppulent wealth, and a woman who'd loved him completly. This man, according to his own admission, had not been very lucky, and looking at his grim demenour Edward could only imagine what had forged him into that man. Edward was sure of his own identity, he was pleased with himself even if he sometimes did foolish or cowardly things, but at the end of the day he could at least say he was a good person. Edward wasn't sure if Cecil could say that.

Yes, he was content with himself, and he would make the most of it by doing for these people what they could not do without his aide.

He would retrieve for Cecil's mystery maiden a Sand Pearl.