"Just wear the hat," Kane said. "It's traditional, isn't it? These people expect a black mage - give them a black mage." He stood in front of the mirror in his father's suite, adjusting the fit of his dress uniform, impractically white with red and gold trim and complete with equally impractical white gloves. It was sunset, and the ball had already started, but he and Shipman had been filthy when they left the training yard. It had taken longer than he'd planned to make himself presentable.

Jack appeared in the mirror behind him, wearing the robes he'd received from the princess, face obscured by the blue scarf, but voice frantic. "Are you kidding? I can't wear that hat with these robes! Have you seen these robes?"

Kane paused long enough to look at the black mage's hat on the bed behind him. It was definitely shabby by comparison. "So don't wear the hat." He ran a comb through his hair and glanced over his reflection one last time. Though not usually part of the dress uniform, his sword hung from his belt. The four Warriors of Light were making their debut at court: each of them was meant to wear the orb they possessed for all to see.

Jack's orb, freed from its usual pouch in the mage's pocket, had been set in a long chain that hung in front of his new robes, the orb's red surface glimmering richly against the black. The mage paced a nervous circle in the floor. "But I like the hat!"

"Catch," Kane said. He threw the comb, which Jack caught inelegantly. "Just do something with your hair. Forget the hat."

"How are you so calm about this?"

"It's only a ball," Kane said. "You forget: I've done this sort of thing all my life." He did not mention that he was nervous himself. It had been more than three years since the last ball in Cornelia, and he had been nobody then. He wasn't sure he could remember a single one of the dances his father had drilled into him during his childhood. But Kane refused to give in to his nerves. This was happening, and there was nothing he could do to change it, so he was going to go out there and face it down.

Jack replaced him in front of the mirror, combing his hair awkwardly, as if he didn't often bother. Given the state of the hat, Kane thought, he probably didn't. "They'll all be looking at us," Jack said. "I generally try to avoid being looked at."

Kane had nothing to say to that. He knew he was handsome. He had often enjoyed the attention it brought him. He couldn't imagine what Jack's life had been, how many people he must have frightened with his scarred appearance before he decided it was easier to live his life behind a mask.

He stepped up beside the mage, surveying the two of them in the mirror. If Kane hadn't known what was under the scarf, he would have taken Jack to be just another black mage in formal clothes. It made no difference, of course. Not everyone in Cornelia was as open minded about black mages as Kane tried to be. "They'll be looking at us, yes," he said. "But they're not going to see you and me. They're going to see the Warriors of Light. It's not the same."

Jack stared at his own reflection - Kane wondered if Sarah had known when she picked it out that the scarf matched his eyes - then he nodded, tossing the comb into the tray on the side table. "Let's get this over with," he said.

"That's the spirit," said Kane.

In the sitting room, Shipman sat stiffly in Lord Redden's comfortable armchair, back ramrod straight as though he were afraid of mussing the green velvet tunic he wore, a darker green than the orb that hung from his neck on its silver chain. The boy scowled, still angry about the day's training session: Kane had made up for their shortened session yesterday by keeping Shipman in the yard until he'd been satisfied that the sword drills were beginning to sink in. The boy still had a long way to go; Kane wondered how well he'd be able to keep training him on the road.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"I've been ready!" Shipman said.

"Then let's go."

They heard the music before they reached the end of the corridor. When they stepped out onto the balcony that ringed the ballroom, all was color and light. Huge vases of flowers filled every corner and flanked every doorway. Strips of colored cloth draped the bannisters, blue and red and yellow. Banners hung on every wall displaying the blue and gold crest of House Plein, the royal family. His companions stopped to stare in awe, but Kane walked on - he'd seen it all before.

He tried to appear confident as he approached the man waiting at the top of the grand staircase to announce them as they entered, hoped his voice didn't shake as he gave the man his name, but then he was walking down those same steps he had taken hundreds of times before. Every eye in the room turned to him as his name was announced: "Guardsman Kane Carmine, Warrior of Light!"

He had been younger the last time he'd done this. Three years wasn't so long, but it seemed a lifetime ago. He'd stood off to the side, the son of the court bard, with no title or name for himself. He hadn't needed to be announced, then. But now he was here, wearing the soldier's uniform he himself had earned - and a title he hadn't - and all his nervousness vanished like a puff of smoke.

"Thadius Shipman, Warrior of Light!" the man announced, but Kane didn't look back. He was already at the bottom of the stairs, and he'd spied the princess on the royal dais. She was dressed in white trimmed with gold, her blond hair pinned up beneath a crown of yellow roses, and she beamed at him.

He didn't hear Jack being announced on the stairs. He didn't hear the music anymore. He didn't hear the people who tried to engage the Warrior of Light in conversation. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, but his feet carried him steadily toward her. As he bowed before Sarah's throne, he was vaguely aware that he had altogether ignored her mother, the queen, beside her, but he didn't care. "Princess," he said. He was smirking. He knew he was smirking.

She laughed aloud. "Guardsman," she said.

"I wonder if I could have the honor of this dance," he said.

Someone giggled, and he noticed Lena, sitting on the queen's other side. She blushed and looked away, so that her white hood hid her face, but then Sarah was beside him, taking his offered hand, and the two of them were heading to the dance floor.

He only smiled wider when he realized he remembered this dance and wouldn't make an utter fool of himself. His face hurt from smiling. Sarah leaned in and whispered, "I've missed you."

"You've seen me every day this week," he pointed out.

"Not like this," she said.

Leaning against the balcony railing, Redden watched his son. He was satisfied to see that Kane remembered the dances he'd been taught as a child. The boy had initially scoffed at the lessons, but the princess had liked to dance, and even then Kane would have followed Sarah to the ends of the earth. Besides, Kane had taken to dancing as well as he'd taken to the sword. He had a grace that Redden himself had always lacked.

That was the reason he had given Kane the sword, after all.

He looked over at a movement beside him. The king joined him at the balcony railing, looking down at the dancers. "They really do look well together," Cascius said.

Redden nodded, but didn't reply. He suspected Sarah had planned her outfit specifically to match Kane's uniform, but he would never say as much. He had known for years that the match could never be. He knew Kane knew it too - that had been an uncomfortable conversation. He wondered if Cascius, or perhaps Jayne, had had a similar conversation with their daughter.

They stood in silence for a long time, not the king and his subject but two friends, watching their children together. After a time, Cascius patted his shoulder. "What's on your mind, old friend?"

"I'm going with him, Cascius." He'd started thinking it yesterday, had even accounted for it while making his son's preparations, but he had not yet said it out loud.

His friend stood up straighter, resting his hands lightly on the railing. "Kane is a fine young man; he's old enough to take care of himself."

"It's not that," Redden said. He gripped the railing tightly, still watching his son. Kane and the princess were on their third dance in a row. "That sword… you know it was Cid's before he died. You know where it came from."

Cascius nodded. They didn't often talk of Redden's brother, the one who had been betrothed to Jayne before she became queen, the one whose sword Kane now carried. "You think somehow the earth cave is tied up in all of this? The prophecy?"

Redden closed his eyes, trying to put the images out of his mind. He couldn't. He never would. "The captain of the last ship to come through, before the quakes closed the pass, told me a curious thing. He told me the fields around Melmond were starting to go barren."

"Jayne..."

"I didn't tell her." The queen's late father had been lord of Melmond, the first city beyond the Aldean bay. A cousin of hers held it now. Redden had grown up there.

Cascius let out a breath in relief. "Redden… The thing that killed your brother, it was destroyed. We destroyed it, you and I together. It has to be coincidence."

Redden wanted his friend to be right, wanted it more than anything, but a heavy, cold weight settled in his chest when he thought about it. He pushed his long white hair out of his face as he shook his head. "But it might not be. Kane and the others, they have no idea what they're doing. If their journey takes them to that cave... That's why I have to go."

"I wasn't going to stop you," the king said. "You know I'd do the same if it were my own child. But I will miss you." He looked down at the dancers once more, then turned and walked away, leaving Redden alone with his memories.

Lena watched from her seat beside the queen. There were so many people. The mood was happy, and that helped, but in a crowd this size it was still overwhelming, like eating too many sweets. She was glad she'd gone back to the cove that morning to clear her head, even if the princess had despaired at the state of her hair on her return. The way things were going, she hoped she'd have time to go back before they left on their journey tomorrow.

In the center of the twirling throng of dancers, the princess laughed at something Kane had said. Lena could have watched them all night. They were just so... so amused with each other, so happy to see one another. It wasn't love, not really, not the deep and abiding sort of passion that the bards wrote songs about, but if this wasn't how it started, she'd eat her hood. A lovely hood it was, too: a gift from the princess. The hems were heavily embroidered with large red roses and delicate green leaves. Every so often, a tiny crystal bead, like a drop of dew, graced a stray leaf. Sarah told her it had belonged to Lady Aliana, the king's former soul reader, and that there was a trunk in an attic somewhere with many others, equally fine.

As she watched the dance, a discordant feeling wafted over her, out of place amidst the happiness of the ballroom, like the smell of smoke in a bustling kitchen. She looked toward its source. On her throne, the queen, too, watched her daughter, but her pride and affection were eaten through with regret. Lena didn't delve into it, but knew that somehow Kane was the cause - Kane, and some other loss, deeply buried. Did Kane remind her of this lost loved one? Or was the queen disappointed in something Kane had done? Lena didn't feel it was her place to ask.

As if she'd sensed Lena watching her, the queen glanced over, but quickly turned her attention back to Kane and the princess. "What do you see when you look at him?" she asked.

"He's certainly handsome," Lena said.

She had said it in jest, in hopes of lightening the queen's mood, but the queen was not amused. "You know what I mean, soul reader."

Lena sighed. She could read people's moods, yes, but she still couldn't predict them. "A moment, then." She looked back at the dancers. She hadn't done a reading on Kane - she hadn't felt the need - but she looked at him and let her eyes relax. It was like focusing on something far away, letting everything else fade and blur into the background, but the thing she was focusing on was not visible to everyone else.

The white mages called it soul sight, the ability to see the aether within a person. Any white mage with the skill could use it to see at a glance if someone was well, the better to heal them if they were not, but for a soul reader, it revealed more. It wasn't a full reading - it showed her only the plainest sort of features that she was sure anyone could pick up after five minute's conversation with the intended target - but as she needed to be closer for a full reading, she hoped it would satisfy the queen for now.

"He's brave," she said. "Loyal. A good friend." She watched as the souls - those two points of light that were Kane and Sarah - began yet another dance together. The lights were both the same soft shade of pale yellow; it was no wonder they were friends, with such similar auras. The yellow dipped and spun between the colors from the other dancers, a beautiful though random pattern, like the window above the door of Black Hall. She was caught up in admiring it for a moment but shook it off. "A good man," she concluded for the queen.

There was no response. Looking at the queen through her soul sight confirmed her earlier assessment: regret. The queen loved her family, loved her kingdom, but she was haunted nonetheless by the love she had lost. Beyond the queen, Lena saw the king coming down the stairs, his soul a fierce green flame that possessed many of the same qualities she'd named in Kane: bravery, loyalty, but predominantly strength. Not only a good man but a good king. Still, he was a king who needed a soul reader, and she didn't wish to speak to him. "Excuse me, your majesty," she said, stepping from the dais before the queen could object.

She rushed along the edge of the room, where there were fewer people, and waited for her soul sight to fade on its own, as it took more effort to force it down. Away from the dais, the press of emotions was stronger, closer around her. A few people tried to converse with her, but she quickly excused herself and moved away. She saw Thadius near the food tables, surrounded by adoring courtiers - the boy really was a charmer - and he waved at her, his soul the pale green of spring grass, but he was preoccupied with his audience. That was fine by her, as she needed to get away from all of these people.

She soon realized that in her search for an exit, she'd managed to back herself into a corner and would have to traverse the crowd again to get out of it. She would have given anything to be back at the cove right now. But then, the crowd around her began to thin out, people moving away in a ripple of fear and suspicion, until only one soul stood before her, bright and blue. Jack.

Her soul sight had nearly dissipated but she forced it down the rest of the way, not wanting to pry into his emotions as she had before, and her vision returned to normal as he bowed before her. "My lady," he said. She thought he was smiling under the blue scarf he wore. Yet again, she was struck by how she felt nothing from him, by how tightly he held his feelings in check. "May I have this dance?"

"I can't," she said, swiftly. She couldn't! If she walked onto that crowded dance floor, she was sure her head would burst open from the pressure. She needed to get out.

She almost missed the flurry of disappointment from him, he squashed it down so quickly. He bowed again, and had begun to walk away before she could call out, "Wait!"

He stopped, gazing back at her, the crowd giving him a wide berth.

It was selfish of her, but that berth was exactly what she needed. "Would you stand with me a while?"

He hesitated, but then nodded and came to her side.

With the crowd avoiding him, and by extension her, she found it easier to calm her frantic mind. She closed her eyes, took several deep breaths.

She felt his concern a heartbeat before she heard his voice. "Are you alright, my lady?"

Her eyes shot open. He was staring at her again.

"Yes, I'm..." She groped for an acceptable word that wasn't a lie: she was not "fine". Finally, she said, "I need to get out of this room."

He said nothing, only tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow as he'd done that morning and led her swiftly through the crowd, which parted around him like a school of frightened fish. He found the hallway that led to the outer courtyard much quicker than she could have done on her own, distressed as she was. The lone guard on the outer door looked curiously at them but let them pass without a word.

It was darker outside, but not overly so, with the full moon above them and the lights streaming out of the castle windows. Jack led her to the fountain. The music from the ball carried this far, but only as a muffled hum, and the sound of the water all but eclipsed it. She sat on the fountain's edge and reached toward her feet, unfastening the complicated buckles on the dancing shoes the princess had found for her - they were absurd, really. She didn't know why she couldn't have worn her sandals. The embroidered robe was longer than the ones she normally wore by several inches. No one would ever see her feet.

When she swung her feet around into the water, the long robe trailed after, getting soaked before she could catch it up. She growled a little in frustration, readjusting its folds. She sensed Jack's befuddlement as he took a seat beside her. Either he was making no effort to conceal it, or she was being so ridiculous that even he was ruffled. She concentrated on calming herself, the sound and feel of the water, the pleasant night air. She could still feel a faint wisp of happiness from inside the castle, but she tried to let it wash over and through her without pulling her under.

It was several minutes before she felt calm enough to speak, to answer his unasked question. "I feel what other people are feeling. It's part of being a soul reader."

The befuddlement transitioned into surprise, and then it was gone, locked down. Mentioning feelings must have made him more aware of his own.

She focused on the water and went on. "Normally, I can block them out, but not when there are so many. It will be a relief to leave the city tomorrow."

"Yes," was his only reply.

"The water helps. It's the only thing that helps." She kicked her feet, splashing lightly.

He moved beside her, and she turned to see that he was pulling off his boots.

"What are you doing?" she said.

"Trying it for myself." He pulled his robes back, rolled up the hem of the pants he wore underneath, and flipped around so that he, too, was facing the fountain's center. He hissed through his teeth as his feet hit the water. "Cold!" he said.

"It was colder this morning," she said.

She felt a crackling in the air, saw his eyes glow briefly, and suddenly the water in the fountain was steaming. She gasped, "You can't do that here!"

He winced at her tone. "Sorry," he said. "It's so easy to forget. We use magic for everything in Crescent Lake. Forgive me, my lady. It won't happen again."

"Please call me Lena." His voice did seem contrite, but she still couldn't sense anything. The warm water was nicer though, nice enough that she might not need to visit the cove again after all. She grasped for something else to say. "Did you enjoy your visit to Black Hall?" she asked. They had returned to the castle in silence that afternoon; she had been so focused on avoiding the people who crowded the streets, trying to keep her head clear, that she hadn't thought to ask him then.

He rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head. "In truth, no." He paused, as though trying to decide how much to say. "My instructors back home told me that the rest of the world feared black magic, so I expected at least some of it. I'm even accustomed to a certain level of revulsion, given my appearance. I thought I had faced the worst of it on my journey here, but that was nothing compared to what I've encountered these past few days."

She wouldn't go so far as to suggest he stop dressing as a black mage to fit in more easily - he was a black mage; it wasn't something he could just take off, anymore than she would cast off her white robe. Instead, she said, "Cornelia has more reason than most to fear black magic."

"The Brotherhood?" he asked.

Such a tall man, she thought, so imposing in those black robes, yet such a quiet voice.

She nodded. "They do such terrible things. Whole families go missing. Homes and shops destroyed overnight. We find their messages scrawled on walls. As far as the council can tell, there are only a few dark mages among them, less than a dozen, but they're no less devastating for it. They still have followers, some of them black mages themselves." All at once, the implications of being the king's soul reader caught up with her, as if her instructors at White Hall had given her a huge assignment months ago and she had forgotten it until now. "Everyone is going to expect me to find them." She covered her face with her hands to shut out the thought, but it was already burrowing into her brain.

He tugged her sleeve, gently but firmly pulling her hands away. When she looked at him at last, he said, "I don't expect that of you."

He seemed sincere, but she sensed nothing from him and she couldn't stand it. She focused on him, searching him for the truth of his words, and she found it: he expected nothing of her. The black mage simply accepted her just as she was, and craved the same acceptance in return.

She started to say something, but a noise near the castle drew her attention. Another guard had joined the one near the door. The two of them talked, but then the first one pointed in her direction.

"You should go," Jack told her. "There's a door to the servant's quarters behind those rose bushes. I found it yesterday. Surely you can find the royal suites from there."

It seemed he knew she had no intention of returning to that blasted ball, even if she was summoned by the king himself.

She swung her legs out of the fountain with a splash and leaped to her feet. Then, on an impulse, she took the black mage's covered face in her hands and kissed his forehead. "Thank you," she said, and because it seemed important to tell him so, she added, "my friend."

The approaching guard protested as she ran for the rose bushes, leaving wet footprints and those absurd dancing shoes behind her.

By the time the ball wound down, Jack was still on the edge of the fountain. He lay on his back now, listening to the water. He'd replaced his boots. She hadn't come back for her shoes - he hadn't expected her to - but he had remained outside anyway. The party had lost its appeal.

Morgan hadn't told him the attacks from the Brotherhood were ongoing. No wonder Cornelia's citizens were so fearful. He knew now that he would never have been able to stay here, unable to practice the magic that was so much a part of him. Lucky for him, he had no choice but to leave, and leave tomorrow.

He looked up at the night sky, where the light of the full moon hid most of the smaller stars, but there was one, large and twinkling, that drew his attention. "I don't know what I expected to find when I came here but it seems to have found me."

It wasn't the same star every night - stars changed with the seasons - but he always looked for the brightest one. This one seemed to wink in reply.

He said, "It should be you. They would have accepted you."

"Well, it's true, we don't see many black mages in Cornelia anymore," said Kane's voice. Jack sat up and looked around, spying the guardsman crossing the courtyard toward him, his white uniform still pristine in the moonlight, a yellow rose pinned to his collar - Jack was sure that hadn't been there earlier. The noise of the fountain must have covered his approach. "But I'm not as quick to judge as some." He paused to pick up and inspect one of Lena's discarded shoes, cocking an eyebrow at Jack.

"Long story," Jack said.

Kane shrugged, setting the shoe down again, and circled around the fountain so that he too could lay down.

"You're not afraid of me?" Jack asked.

Kane made a dismissive noise in the back of his throat. "The soul reader trusts you. That's fine in my book."

Not only trusted him, Jack thought, but called him friend. He wished he knew what Lena had seen that day in the throne room. He wouldn't have considered himself trustworthy.

"Who were you talking to?" Kane asked.

He hesitated, but, prompted by thoughts of his own trustworthiness, he decided to be honest with the guardsman. "My mother."

"I'm sorry." Kane sounded sincere. "Did you lose her in the fire?" he asked, then quickly said, "No, don't answer that. That was insensitive of me."

Jack wasn't offended. "It was a long time ago." Come to think of it, Kane, too, had called him friend.

Kane said nothing for a time, both of them laying on the fountain's wide edge, looking up at the sky. Then Kane said, shyly, "Can I ask you something? It's just that, well, tomorrow, when we leave… I mean, I've never left Cornelia before. But you've travelled a long way, haven't you?"

"Very," said Jack. "So far that even the stars are different. It's difficult to read them."

Kane seemed excited by this news, his earlier bashfulness forgotten, "So it's true! I've heard that black mages can read the future in the stars! Will you read them for me?"

Jack chuckled. "I'll try. I'm afraid I lack that particular talent. I'll have to work at it."

"Take your time!" said Kane.

Jack focused on the blinking star he'd been speaking to when Kane arrived, and opened his senses to the aether from which all black mages drew their power. It flowed everywhere, but made patterns among and between the stars. Mages with more skill than he possessed could predict where it was going based on what they saw. With great effort, he could almost follow its flow.

What he saw was fear. He leaped to his feet.

"What?" said Kane. The guardsman was on his feet as well, hand to his sword hilt. "What did you see?"

Fear, not Kane's, but connected to Kane, connected to himself. Connected to… He gasped. "Lena!"

There was a scream from the castle. They ran.

Author's Note: As my beta reader said: "dun dun DUN!"
Okay, I know, there was no ball in FF1. There sort of wasn't one in my original notes for this story either. The notes say, "Kane dances with the princess at a party." Almost five thousand words later, I can check that off my to do list.
In case you haven't noticed, each of my chapters are named after songs from Final Fantasy soundtracks, and I want to talk about this one: I know these days video games get TV commercials all the time, but that was not the case in 1999. If a game had a commercial back then, it was a huge deal. Can you imagine being a 16 year old girl, a Final Fantasy fan, a hopeless romantic at heart, and suddenly there's a commercial for Final Fantasy VIII with this stunning ballroom scene in it? I could not WAIT to play that game, and when I did, I wasn't disappointed. I had a save file right before the ballroom scene, and I watched it over and over. I know it doesn't look amazing by today's CGI standards, but it will live in my memory forever as one of the most beautiful moments in the history of gaming. I was super pleased (over the moon, one might say) that the title of the song "Waltz for the Moon" (as well as the song itself) fit the mood of this chapter so perfectly.