Mystic: *sings* It's the most wonderful time of the year! Back to school and the house is all mine! AHAHAHAHA!

The Most Feared

The fireflies hovered between the two realms, their lights showing a path to the mystical and, what some claimed, haunted. Kuja caught one small blinking creature, opened the doorway to the blood mage territory. When the village appeared before the three, Freema hesitated a moment, mouth and eyes open in awe. "Oh, my goodness," she breathed. "This is incredible. My lady, will I truly be safe here?"

Hilda handed her a steaming mug of brandied cider, purchased from the same elderly woman. "Of course, dear. Why would you even think otherwise?"

"Not exactly pale like you." Freema pointed to her dark complexion.

Kuja scowled, hand on his hip. "Look around, girl; you're not exactly unique anymore." He sipped at his cider. Various individuals walked about, much like any other village or town. Children played with jump ropes or spinning tops, climbed trees and ran around their parents. Peddlers advertised various goods in their quaint shops; medicines, spellbooks, oddly shaped 'marital aids'. A minstrel strolled before Freema, winked at her; his skin the same as her own.

"Can ...can I just follow him around?" She grinned eagerly. "Oh, I cannot wait to show off a strong husband to my mother. It will blow her mind!" The thought made her smile all the more. She'd waltz toward her mother's door, arm linked around a properly chosen man, then knock triumphantly. Maybe he'd be a young widower with offspring so her mother couldn't complain about lack of a grandchild. See, mother? she would say. I did find a husband, now go hike off of a short pier.

"Onward to the senator," said Lady Hilda. She began to walk toward the finest home. "Last I heard, one of his girls recently wed a private guardsman. The Lone Centurion." A group of laughing children ran past them, on their way to a crone's home for daily lessons. "I do know, however, that several of his councilmen require wives. You, Freema, might very well have your pick of the men."

"My lady, this is brilliant!" The girl started to run her fingers through her hair and brush any dirt off her dress. She toyed with the thought of tightening her corset or lowering her blouse a bit off her shoulder. After a minute of thinking, she chose to ignore the corset but lower the blouse.

Back in Lindblum, she performed her duties silently, yet with a smile. If she were to believe the stories of Senator Noel, she'd still be able to smile, but silence would be completely impossible.

Inside his home, Freema's heart jumped to her throat and made its home there permanently. She understood the paintings of topless of women, the large rooms of his estate covered in thick blankets and pillows, but the way he currently circled around her and eyed her up and down made her second guess the decision to bare a little shoulder. "Hm," he mused, nodding. "You're in luck, Mistress Hilda. I have a position available for this lovely young woman."

Kuja cracked a grin. He stood beside his lover on the opposite corner of the room. "And very few of them involve both feet on the ground, correct?" Lady Hilda rolled her eyes, and poor Freema wondered if she should've listened to her mistress more closely during their occasional girl talk.

"You exaggerate my reputation, Lord Kuja." The senator glanced again at Freema's backside. "But, yes."

Hilda smiled, crossed over and took the girl's hands. "Alright, Freema; you are in his hands now. When I see you again, you better have a husband on your arm and a babe in your belly."

"Yes, madam," she said, a blush creeping on her face.

"I will also write an impolite letter to your mother."

Freema giggled. "Don't hold back."

"MAMA!" said Eiko with a grin, jumping up from the table. "Can I go home with you and Kuja now? Oh, wait. I forgot." She grabbed the sides of her skirt and curtsied in the sorcerer's direction. "My lord."

"How marvelous," he remarked with a flare of his hand. "I taught you something after all."

Miss Rosemary, crone extraordinaire, rose from the table and handed the summoner a broom. "Lady Hilda, you did well instructing Eiko basic takeoff and landing. I simply polished her riding style."

"She made me ride side-saddle."

"What better way to ride is there?" Hilda asked.

Kuja gave her a sideways glance. Miss Rosemary's home was quaint and earthy, a treehouse perfectly suited to one or two people. Dried herbs hung throughout the pantry and kitchen, textbooks sparking with spells rested on a carved table. A mortar and pestle sat beside them. "Your opinion, Miss Rosemary. I plan to teach the child a few of my own chants -"

"Ultima?" piped Eiko. "It's Ultima, right? I get to learn Ultima and Flare Star?"

"Didn't I tell you not to interrupt me?"

The crone nodded. "Oh, she's more than ready."

"Yahoo!"

"However," said Miss Rosemary.

"Aw, crap."

Hilda scolded, "Eiko, language!"

"However," Miss Rosemary said again. "I believe it is in Eiko's best interest first to master the basic blood mage spells before any of the sorcerer's."

Not exactly the sentence Eiko wanted to hear. "Aw, darn."

"She's not yet turned," Kuja stated. "How can she learn your witchcraft?"

"You don't need to turn her right away." The crone strolled over to the carved table and picked up a spellbook. "Have you ever noticed how little children can learn a foreign language so easily?" She plunked the spellbook in Kuja's hands. "Her mind is open enough for any education, but not so much that other knowledge falls out."

He understood. "Wonderful. Yet one more witch in my penitential life."

"This is penance for you?" asked Hilda, eyebrow raised. "Which set of prayer beads do you prefer?"

Kuja, in all his years, never found the purpose of prayers. He saw it as a waste of mental time and hard on the knees. However, when in a small room with a crone, a matron, and a female child traditionally considered a young maid, the sorcerer decided now was not the time to harbor disagreement on their religious philosophy. "Bahamut's a dragon, is he not?" The question was asked with his tongue placed firmly against his cheek.

Miss Rosemary's eyes began to twinkle around her wrinkles. "My late husband used Bahamut's prayers!" She clapped excitedly and began to fumble around a nearby desk drawer. "His beads are in here somewhere..."

"Won't Kuja burst into flame if he touches them?" Eiko giggled, then smiled sweetly. It didn't fool anyone.

"I shall remember that the next time you fall ill and request a story." And yet, the sorcerer hinted of mischief and cheap magic tricks.

"When was she ill?" Hilda queried, a mother's concern radiating in her voice.

"Oh, just chocobo pox," said Miss Rosemary, still fumbling in the drawer. "Kuja stopped by while I was out gathering supplies from my garden. I found him spinning quite the yarn so she wouldn't scratch."

Hilda stood agast. "Why wasn't I made aware?"

"Minor ailment, Hilda. Relax. Eiko was up and about in a few days." Another fumble. "Where are those beads ...?"

"And again, you two!" The lady eyed both Kuja and the 'young maid'. "Speaking terms like nothing ever happened. I simply cannot grasp it."

Eiko shrugged, said, "It's an understanding, mother."

"Aha! There they are!" Miss Rosemary stood triumphant. "With Bahamut's medal still shiny and proud. Here, young warlock; have at it."

Kuja raised an eyebrow. "Warlock? I haven't heard that term in ages."

"I'm old-fashioned," said the crone. "Sorcerer is fancy and accurate, and certainly more modern, but warlock, well, it just gets my blood flowing. And you remind me of my late husband."

Kuja stepped closer to Lady Hilda.

"Aw, he didn't burst into flames." Her false pout looked innocent, but the adults in the room knew better. "Kuja, what was that one story you told me? It was about a really young wizard and he was all thumbs when he started working for the king and he had a dragon friend who stayed in a cave and the dragon spoke to him."

"His dragon insulted him every day of his life."

"I know; it was really funny." The girl thought a moment. "What was the wizard's name again? It started with an 'm'."

Any frustrating anger in Hilda's emotions finally dissipated. "Kuja," she mused. "You amazing man. You told Eiko about the boy wizard? He was one of our own centuries ago."

"I read, lady, and I enjoy the occasional fairy tale." He stepped around toward the table, began to collect Eiko's numerous thick books. One showed clear instructions of stargazing and twin moon magic. "The blood mages have quite the collection of fables. Eiko, take these to my dragon please."

"Only if I can ride her."

Whenever the summoner began to grate his nerves like a cheese grater, Kuja always remembered how much she'd be worth once grown and eligible to wed. "How else are we going to leave here, Eiko? We have an audience in Alexandria to attend."

Alexandria? Alexandria? As in, Zidane? The most awesome and bestest consort ever in existence? "YAHOO!"

Three pairs of eyes followed her as she sprinted out the door with her books. Lady Hilda spoke first. "Well done, sorcerer. Now you know what bribe I use to have her do as she's told."

Miss Rosemary laughed. "Eiko is absolutely adorable. A pleasure to keep and teach." She smiled warmly, held her hands in front of her like a prayer. "The last summoner, with her horn intact, has the potential to become one of the strongest mages this world has seen in enochs. Think about it, Lady Hilda; your daughter, a summoner, with two hearts."

"You said moments ago we did not need to turn her now." Kuja grew confused, and the look on the crone's face suddenly made his blood turn cold. "Why give her blood when she's this young only to wait fifty or sixty years until a natural death occurs? If you ask me, it's stupid."

Hilda breathed, said, "You don't necessarily have to wait until a natural death." Her eyes darkened, hands fidgeted against the fabric of her cloak.

"Of course not," said her old instructor. "That would be silly, and I don't really approve giving nightshade to children to hasten the process."

"Nightshade?" Kuja cracked a wry grin. "There are many things you did not tell me, Rosemary, when I first came here. I'd appreciate it if you'd talk fully now since the girl will be in my household until I marry her off to a worthwhile mage."

Hilda continued to fidget.

"When Eiko achieves womanhood, warlock," Miss Rosemary's smile turned chaotic and coy, "you give her your blood and the nightshade that very evening."

"I'm bonded to Hilda."

"And she will forever hold one of your two hearts. You and Eiko will be nothing more than parent and child."

"Personally, I think I might refuse."

Rosemary flipped her gray-streaked hair over her shoulder and walked over to her pantry. "Do as you wish with the young maid. My words are only suggestions."

The courtesan in the room looked as if she were about to faint. Lady Hilda grabbed Kuja's hand to steady herself. "Alexandria awaits, Kuja."

"As you wish, lady." He gave a nod of his head.

"Oh," interrupted Miss Rosemary. She poked her head out from the behind the pantry door. "One more thing, Hilda."

"Goodness," she said.

"I have taught Eiko the basic Bad Wolf chant."

Both of her hearts skipped a beat, and she collapsed in the nearest chair. Bad Wolf Bad Wolf Bad Wolf. "Brilliant," Hilda breathed. "The one spell from which I can never run away." Nearly a millenia ago, a female mage struck deep with love for another, created the spell in order to find him again. Her actions almost spelled Doomsday with all uppercase letters, but desperate love sealed the imbalance. Now the chant lay scattered through the skies and earth, ran deep in the blood of her children, her children's children, and so forth until it gave Lady Hilda a nagging headache. All because a direct ancestor made the mistake of falling in love with a dangerous individual.

History truly loves to repeat itself. Ad nauseum.

Kuja stared at his lover with a furled eyebrow, ran his long fingers through her hair. "My lady?" he asked. "What form of witchcraft is the Bad Wolf?"

Fresh air; that's what she required. A gentle breeze and light sunshine would clear her head. Almost rudely, she stole the sorcerer away from the crone's house until they stood alone on the wooden walkway. "Every single one of our fairy tales holds a grain of truth," she explained, both hands entwined with his. "All of Gaia uses the same word for healer or wise man, some even use the term for a mighty warrior. They get that word from us, you realize."

"Doctor," Kuja said. He suspected it had very little to do with a black cloak and white bird mask.

"The Doctor." Hilda squeezed his hands. "The first blood mage. The first man born under Gaia's red moon. The man who gave the rest of us our two hearts."

"If the Doctor is to blame for your kind's creation, how does that explain the Bad Wolf?"

"Consider it love gone wrong."

He chuckled briefly. "And how can love ever go wrong?"

It nearly pained her to answer. Hilda reached up to cup his face. "Oh, sorcerer; I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

" ...Spoilers."