Not Yet Broken
Author's Note: Throwing a content warning/trigger warning up here! We've got abuse, torture, and some implied sexual assault in this chapter guys! (I went with how things happened in the SNES version.) Stuff gets heavy in this one, but ya know, it's kind of a heavy situation Celes is in. (There's nothing graphic/explicit as far as the SA goes, don't worry. It's just implied.)
Merely taking his first step down in the old basement of the Addison's mansion was enough to tell him that many of the horrendous parts of a city becoming occupied were being hidden away. Unlike the public executions, leaving bodies hanging from trees, and grunts assaulting people out in the open for just looking at them the wrong way like what the Empire usually did when it started taking over cities and towns on the Southern continent, they were treating South Figaro quite differently. Perhaps Gestahl feared what Edgar would do if pushed even more.
There were a few candles lit in their sconces along the wall of the corridor, but their light did not give away much. Who lit them? Locke kept one hand near the wall as he took silent steps to the end where the hall split into two directions. He let his fingers graze against the bricks, always on the watch for things hidden. Switches. Irregularities. Opportunities.
The lingering odors gave Locke hints as to what the Imperials had been up to. If the candlelight had reached the floor, he wouldn't have been surprised to see dark stains on the once-polished wood.
He didn't dare strike a match. Who knew who else was down there? An Imperial soldier could be lurking in the shadows on the watch for intruders. Locke's merchant getup could only answer so much before he had to fight. He wished he had been able to keep the Imperial uniform but ditching it had been the better option at the time when he had to put up with the stupid cider ordeal. He rolled his eyes at the thought.
SLAM!
Locke dropped to the floor and froze there, staying flat and listening closely.
A male voice was yelling something incoherent nearby and more bangs followed. It sounded like it came from the left corridor. Locke moved carefully towards the source as quickly as he could, trying to catch anything at all he could use from the curses and laughter.
"You bitch, you're going to regret saying that!" a different voice shouted.
Locke peered around the corner and saw light pooling out the bottom of a wooden door. He stood up and flattened himself against the wall next to the door, leaning down to peer into the keyhole.
He saw two Imperials kicking the hell out of a blonde woman laying prone on the floor. She wasn't making a single sound. There were bottles littering the small table near the door and a cigarette was still lit in its tray. A rifle was resting up against the wall next to the chair.
"We're not the cowards! You're the coward you traitorous whore!" The Imperial on the right accented this with another kick to her stomach, his fists clenched and chest heaving with every breath.
Traitor?
Locke didn't have time to gawk at the scene. The other Imperial turned away from the woman and smirked at his comrade. Locke looked up, hoping for a rafter to cling to, and saw a break in the ceiling above where the wood must have splintered apart over the years and gave a big jump, arms flailing up and was able to grab at the opening. He scrambled into the hole and was untangling the damn merchant's robes and scarves when one of the Imperials came out of the room.
He was laughing. "Oh, I can't wait for tomorrow, General Celes. It's going to be so satisfying to see you torn apart after all your bullshit."
"Yeah! We're going to have a party!" The other Imperial snickered.
"Okay, it's your turn to keep watch down here. We don't want any of those Addisons sneaking around." The Imperial at the door folded his arms with a sneer. "Kefka thinks that fool is beginning to regret helping us."
"Right! Don't worry! I can go days without sleep!" The other soldier replied. Locke could practically see the dumb Imperial salute to go with the soldier's declaration.
The one at the door scoffed, "Sheesh, it's not for days, just until tomorrow morning." He turned and started to close the door behind him before pausing and adding, "If you get bored, have a little fun with our beloved lady general. I bet she'd appreciate some extra attention."
More laughter could be heard once the door was shut and soon footsteps receded up the staircase. Locke waited for several minutes, counting in his head, listening for anything else before emerging from his hiding place and slipping down to the floor without a sound. He made sure to keep out of the light when he returned to the keyhole and saw that the Imperial inside was slumped back in his chair snoring his head off.
So much for staying awake for days.
Locke rifled through the stolen merchant's pack to see if the merchant sold anything besides booze or chocolate and found what seemed to be a type of sedative in a small vial. Only one though. Probably not for sale. Back at the keyhole, he watched the soldier to make sure he was truly asleep. The prisoner didn't look like she could walk very well at the moment.
But there was something tugging at the back of Locke's mind. Yeah, she's the enemy, but if they're going to execute her for treason tomorrow, then maybe…
He watched her back rise and fall and her arms shake. She was shackled to the wall by her wrists with chains that gave some slack, but not very much. If he wanted to get her out of there, he would need to work fast. And he had the perfect tool to pick the locks on her shackles too.
He opened the door as quietly as he could, cursing himself for doing something so reckless. He should turn back. Let her get executed. He saw the newspaper Edgar bought with the article about her killing all those people in Maranda. She had been part of other attacks from the Empire too. It's not like she had a slave crown on her head like Terra did. But that damned sympathetic annoying part of him decided to act. He would have to come up with some good excuses later to tell Banon.
Right now, somebody needed his help.
He sidled up to the soldier, vial in hand, and slowly reached out to pull the cork off and let the medicine fall smoothly into the soldier's mouth. The guy was so deeply asleep that he didn't even flinch. Locke might not have needed to drug the asshole at all, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Rescuing a general with a gun pointed at her back could get him killed on the spot if he got caught. As the vial finally emptied, the soldier mumbled, "Mmm, and some bread too…mmm."
Locke had to bite his lip to stifle a snicker and put the vial back in his robes. Turning to the prisoner, he couldn't avoid looking at the crime scene now. What he saw made his chest hurt, stomach turn, and outrage build behind his temples. Those Imperials had been going nuts while torturing her.
Blood was all over the floor, splattered on the brick wall behind her, and crusted on her whole body. She had moved her head to the side, and he saw her bruised up face and nose that must have been broken. Her earrings looked ripped out of her ears. Scratches and bruises ran down her jaw and throat.
It took all the self-control Locke had in him to kneel and start picking the locks on her shackles instead of spinning around to slice the sleeping Imperial's throat open while he dreamed of supper. It was so tempting, but it would cause too much trouble, he was sure.
The woman shuddered when he removed one shackle and stared up at him. Her bright blue eyes were fearful at first, as if expecting the guards again, but swapped over to confusion as soon as she realized what he was doing.
"What...?" she croaked as Locke removed the other shackle. "What are you hoping to peddle down here?"
He withdrew a potion from his robes, "Medicine to help a woman in need." Locke held the bottle up to her lips and she drank it down within seconds.
She sighed, "Interesting business model." She was able to prop herself up with her hands now and sat up. She turned her head and saw the Imperial still in his chair snoring away.
"Don't worry about him. He'll be knocked out for quite a while." Locke answered her question before she could ask. "So, you're the famous General Celes, huh?" Locke glanced back at her, not letting his eyes trail down. He was going to need to find her some new clothes by the looks of what was left. The only thing she was wearing that didn't look destroyed was a scuffed pair of black boots.
"Nothing but a worthless traitor now," she said flatly, still watching the snoozing soldier.
Locke withdrew another potion and handed it to her. "I'm Locke, with the Returners."
Celes drank the potion down fast like the other, "Hm, figured as much." She sat the now empty bottle next to her and looked up at him with careful eyes. "What do you want from me? Information? Or do you want to get revenge for your comrades I may have killed?"
He averted his eyes while he stood up and removed his outer coat. He held it out to her, "I want to help you. Think you can stand?"
The coat must have made her realize the state of her outfit finally because she snatched it and covered herself up quickly.
"I think so…"
Locke held out his hand and was surprised that she took it instead of saying she didn't need help. Once he saw that she was steady on her feet, he started for the door. Celes tugged his arm back with surprising strength and whispered, "This soldier probably has some keys on him."
Locke did not waste any time going through the soldier's pockets and took the guy's wallet and pocket watch along with the ring of keys. He mumbled something about soup in between snores with no indication of waking up. Locke grinned at Celes before heading to the door and made sure the corridor was clear for their escape.
He led her down the corridor to the left and found another door nearby. It wasn't locked and opened with a creak that hopefully wasn't loud enough to carry down the hall.
The room was completely dark, unfortunately. No Imperials had been in there apparently to leave a candle lit for them. Locke felt around the wall next to the door frame and his fingers ran up against a switch. He flipped it and only one flickering light near the back of the room fizzled on, lending a soft wavering glow to the cluttered room.
"Looks like a storage room," Celes whispered as she followed Locke inside, hands clutching the large coat around her shoulders.
He nodded and headed to the nearest bookshelf to examine the old candles. "Let's see if we can find a lantern. I doubt the rest of the underground tunnels have electricity too."
The room was dusty and smelled a bit like moldy bread and soot. There were crates with words painted on the sides, labeling the contents inside. The crates were stacked in random spots along with old armchairs, cracked tea tables, and other oddments of furniture and knick-knacks that came from families who evolved their decor over the years.
Celes moved over to an antique vanity and chest of drawers and started opening drawers, searching for clothes. The vanity was covered with ripped doilies and empty bottles of perfume. The bloomers and blouses looked a few sizes too big for her, but she set aside the pieces that were the least moth-eaten.
Locke glanced at her before prying the top off a nearby crate and decided to keep his focus on the contents of the box instead. After a while of hearing shuffling and drawers closing, he turned and saw that Celes was threading a wide leather belt through the loops on a pair of high-waisted black trousers over the top of a navy blouse she tucked into the waistband of the pants. Her face looked more relaxed now that she had proper clothes again. The fabrics looked worn and faded, but they were much better than the rags he found her in.
She picked up an ivory-handled hairbrush from the vanity table and started trying to fight the matted tangles in her long blonde hair.
When he approached, she glanced at him in the mirror and shook her head, "This will take too long. I'll put my hair up and deal with the tangles later."
"Sounds like a plan!" Locke smiled at her, and then an idea popped into his head, "Let's find you a bag. These Addisons have enough stuff cluttering their house. I'm sure they won't notice some missing clothes."
Celes agreed, still holding the brush, and started scouring the surrounding mess for supplies she needed.
"And we'll find a place for you to take a bath too after we get out of here. Nothing like hot water to soak tired muscles!" Locke was blabbering, now looking for a good-sized travel pack that didn't look like it would fall apart. Why couldn't people just toss their belongings when the items were in such bad shape? Or at least mend them before stowing them away.
In the process, they came across an old lantern tucked in a corner on top of a couple of stacked chairs. The wick still had plenty of length, so Locke deemed it a valuable find. Now to find some spare boxes of matches…
"Do you know of a door in here leading to the tunnels?" Celes asked quietly from next to one of the grandfather clocks where she was comparing coats. She seemed to favor the thicker one made of coal-colored wool over the silken coat from the merchant's outfit Locke lent her.
"Addison's butler said there was a way out of town if we followed the tunnels leading from this basement, so I'd say they've hidden it behind something." He gestured to the mess around them, "I'll start checking behind things along the walls over here if you'll start over there."
She nodded, and had much better luck than Locke because when she tugged at the grandfather clock, there was a door hidden behind it!
"That was fast," Celes said, voice flat, looking from the splintering wooden door to Locke.
"Great!" he stepped up to a round table between them and set two large leather bags down for her to choose from, "Which of these do you like better?"
Celes picked up the one closest to her without hesitation and stuffed the hairbrush and the clothes she'd sat aside earlier inside.
"Oh!" Locke held up a hand, "We've got to disguise you before we head out. Putting your hair up was a good idea, but how about we find a couple of scarves to wrap around your head?" Not waiting for her to answer, he shuffled over to a pile of fabrics on a broken billiard table and started sorting through them. Something made of thick material in darker colors would be best.
He glanced over and saw Celes inspecting a coat. It looked like it would stop around mid-thigh and had a fur collar.
"I think that would look a little out of place. It's pretty warm outside," he looked down at the merchant's robes he was still wearing, "These are lightweight, and the soldiers haven't been paying attention to the merchants much from what I've seen, so I'm not going to change until we get out of town."
Celes folded the coat and stuffed it inside her bag along with her other new belongings. When Locke found a few possible scarves to try, he saw Celes tucking socks and gloves into her bag. She came closer and held still while he tried wrapping a gray scarf around her face and letting the ends hang low over her shoulders.
"Does it have to be perfect?" she asked, her eyes flitting to the door, "I can wrap the rest if you give them here so we can get out of here."
Locke paused, looking to the door and listening carefully for any approaching footsteps. "You're right, it's only been a few minutes, but one of them might come back…" he handed her the rest of the scarves and weaved his way back around to the grandfather clock next to where she stood.
She had finished draping a plum scarf around her neck to hide the bruises by the time Locke got the lantern lit and opened the door.
It was even darker in the secret passageway, but the light from their lantern reached quite far ahead of them. The walls were made of blocks of stone and the air was thin.
The only sounds were the flickering from their lantern, their breathing, and their own footsteps. Celes had a bit of a limp, but when he glanced over his shoulder at her, he saw that she was standing straight and her facial expression was a careful neutral despite all the bumps and cuts.
"What?"
"How's your face feeling?" Locke asked quickly, leading her around a bend in the tunnel. Luckily there weren't any branching paths so far, so hopefully they could reach the end fast.
She raised a hand and ran it lightly over her cheek and jaw, "Looks that bad, huh?"
"Looks like it hurts a lot," he clarified. "I've got some medicine in one of these satchels we can use to clean those wounds once we're out of here." He patted the line of stolen leather satchels attached to his belt.
"I've dealt with worse injuries before," her voice was soft, more of a whisper to herself, meant for her ears instead of his.
That sent a shiver down his spine. Somebody her age had had worse injuries before? What in blazes was the Empire doing to its generals? He knew of the little experiment Kefka did with Terra, torching her fellow soldiers to test the strength of the slave crown, but Celes didn't have a slave crown as far as he knew. He brought a hand up and touched the earring he got from Terra.
No slave crown. That alone made her a different situation from Terra. He was rescuing the woman who butchered the royal family of Maranda. Chopped off the head of their prince and held it out like a prize, ordering all the citizens to join with the Empire or they would all die too.
Her committing treason against the Empire so soon after that attack on Maranda was what made Locke pause, and made him even consider helping her. To have received the death sentence for her crime made him wonder what she did to anger the Emperor. It must have been big to make the Emperor want her dead after she won such a big victory for the Empire.
They walked in quiet the rest of the way through the underground tunnels and soon came to a set of wooden stairs leading up to a trapdoor in the ceiling.
"Looks like we're almost free," Locke whispered, now conscious of the fact that he didn't know where the exit let out. The butler said they would be able to escape town, but what if they ended up in the middle of one of the back streets guarded by the Magitek armored soldiers? He led the way up to the trapdoor and waited for her to take careful steps up the stairs after him. Her legs seemed to be shaking from either the pain or exhaustion or possibly both. Maybe they could swipe a chocobo if they were near a stable so she wouldn't have to walk the many miles to the nearest village where he was planning to spend the night.
"Try to keep your head down when we're out until we reach the forest, okay?"
"Of course," she fixed him with a hard look as if offended that he felt the need to explain how she needed to act while they escaped.
He gave her a smile in apology, and before he started heaving the trapdoor up, she asked, "Really, why are you helping me? I was an Imperial general until a couple of days ago—your enemy."
Hands still in place on the door, he glanced down at her, trying to keep his gaze from lingering on her wounds and bruises, "I think that somebody who pisses off Gestahl enough that he wants them dead is more of a friend than a foe to the Returners."
The door eased up slowly, letting daylight stream into the tunnel.
"And I just felt like it. I like helping people," he added, now carefully looking around at their surroundings while still holding onto the door. It appeared that they were in a small fenced-in yard behind a building attached to the tall stone walkways that surrounded the city. There were tomatoes ripe in the little garden patch and a swinging bench, but nobody in sight.
"Hold on until I check over the fence," Locke whispered, setting the trapdoor down on the cobblestones and practically crawling his way to the gate to peer around for any soldiers. Celes stayed crouched by the passageway and closed the door once Locke signaled it was safe for them to get going. He unlatched the gate and after pointing Celes to the north up the cobblestone sidewalk, he closed it back, double-checked that everything in the yard appeared unaltered, and swiftly caught up with Celes.
They walked side by side, Celes favoring her left leg, and continued towards the dense forest north of the city without catching the attention of any guards.
Once far off into the forest, Locke dropped his pack on a fallen tree and started freeing himself of the merchant's robes. He flung the flowy silk tunic to the mossy ground and practically tore the pants off.
Celes wordlessly sat her bag on the tree and sank next to it with a sigh. She peeled the scarves off her head and tucked them into her bag. She glanced up at Locke when she saw a gray shroud drift into her line of sight where he threw it. The waning sunlight streaming down through the dense branches caught on something small that sparkled, catching Celes' attention.
"Where did you get that earring?"
He looked at her while fixing the high collar of his jacket, "Which one? I've got quite a few."
"I can see that," Celes pointed, "That white beaded earring. Where did you get it?"
His fingers went immediately to the one in question, "Oh, it belongs to a friend of mine. We swapped earrings until we met again in Narshe." A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
"That's Terra's earring, isn't it?" Celes' eyes went wide, "She's in Narshe? She's with the Returners?"
"Yeah, you know her?" Locke was stunned. Celes hadn't shown much emotion so far, not even when he first found her and unshackled her.
"I know she went missing…" she trailed off, her eyes still on the earring.
"And Kefka came after her like a madman," Locke stepped closer to Celes, now free of his merchant's disguise. "If you want to see Terra, why don't you come with me to Narshe?"
Celes chewed her bottom lip, or rather attempted until she noticed the split down the middle. Hesitating and briefly licking the blood away, she nodded, "Is she okay?"
"Yes, she's got some memory problems though," Locke's voice softened, thinking of how confused Terra's been, how fragile.
Celes looked down, her torn-up hands on her knees squeezing, knuckles growing white, "Makes sense I suppose."
Seeing the cuts reminded Locke about the medicine he promised. Locke went to his bag and started rifling around for the little pots and potions.
He knelt in front of her with his supplies and removed his gloves. Dirt, dust, and whatever else he touched that stuck to his gloves wouldn't be appropriate when trying to clean up wounds. Celes had a faraway look on her face, staring at the cluster of tiny white flowers growing at the base of the ancient tree at his side.
He opened one of the pots, revealing a cream with flecks of green and yellow herbs in the mixture, and swiped some out with his fingers. He looked up at her for permission before slathering some of the ointment on the backs of her hands where welts and bumps had swollen up. Better be straight with this. Locke needed to make sure.
"Did you know about that damn crown?" he watched her face for a hint of grief, regret… cold-heartedness?
Her shoulders jerked, his question bringing her back out of her thoughts, "No, not until very recently." She didn't offer up anything else. He noticed her eyebrows twitching as if they were trying to furrow but she was blocking it, trying to close off her facial expressions completely. He figured it would be best to let his further questions drop for the moment.
Celes' arm trembled when he started smearing more of the ointment up her forearm, over cuts and bruises. The pain must be worse than it looked. "See how I'm leaving a thick layer instead of working it in like a regular cream?"
"Yes," she watched him apply more to her other arm with a careful swipe.
"Apply some of this to your neck and wherever else you can reach. It has cleansing properties and will help soothe the wounds until we reach Sunley so you can take a bath. I'll get some medicine you can add to the bathwater, and that'll reach everywhere else you got injured." Locke handed her the pot and sat the other on the tree trunk next to her before heaving himself up to stretch his shoulders out.
Celes mimicked what he did with the ointment, applying it to her neck and up to her jaw and cheekbones, "How do you know all of this about healing?" moving the subject away.
He flashed her a grin, "My grandmother was an herb doctor and owned an apothecary. When you're stuck mashing up herbs and organizing medicine all day as a kid, you learn a lot."
He grabbed a flask of water from his bag and drank deeply, watching her finish up.
She put the lid back on the pots and took one of the potions, "Sounds useful for somebody like you."
"Heh, you have no idea."
They rented a room at the inn in Sunley with two beds and a private bathroom, the only room of its kind in the inn, and Locke was enjoying the evening meal the mistress of the inn prepared while Celes was in the bath. He urged her to take her time, soak to let the medicine absorb better, and he would bring her a tray of supper.
"You think your lady friend will like pork chops?" the mistress asked as she swept by with a pot of coffee for the couple at the next table over.
"I think she'll love them! I don't know what you marinate them with, but they're delicious!" Locke smiled up at her when she came to a stop in front of him, brushing off her apron.
"She looked pretty roughed up, poor thing. I'll be sure to put a slice of my apple pie on her supper tray," the mistress smiled kindly, the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes crinkling deep. "Good on you for helping her get away from those thugs, Locke. You've always been such a good boy."
"It's something anybody would do," he smiled back at her. The mistress of the inn always reminded him of his late grandmother, especially with her cooking.
She patted his shoulder and went back to the kitchen, probably to start preparing the supper tray for Celes, knowing her.
Locke sipped at his coffee and sighed. The Sunley Inn was the same as always. It had been added onto throughout the years to accommodate more people. The dining area was quiet, with low murmurs of conversation from a few other customers, some customers who were locals but came for the good cooking.
Gas lanterns were mounted on the walls of the log cabin-style building. The maroon curtains were swaying in the light night breeze and the soft lighting of the room added a peaceful ambiance.
The mistress and her husband were the only ones who got a good look at Celes' face when they arrived, and Locke paid them extra to keep quiet in case the "thugs" came by asking about her.
Normally, Locke would have continued marching on through the night, maybe stopping to camp for a short time under the stars since he was eager to get to Narshe. But with the state Celes was in, he felt it would be cruel to force her to keep going. And he doubted he could carry her very far if she fainted on the road.
So far, Sunley was left alone by the Imperials. According to the villagers he spoke with at the general store while buying medicine and more supplies, they received word about South Figaro being occupied, but no soldiers came by for a visit to their little village.
One of the farmers figured it was because they didn't have a port like South Figaro. Another worried that they would come knocking any day now because Gestahl was showing how much he wanted everything he could get his grimy claws on. Locke dropped the hint to send word to Narshe in case the Imperials did visit them.
Locke scarfed down the last of his potatoes and finished off his coffee when he saw the mistress appear at the door of the kitchens with a large supper tray. He stood and went to take it from her with a smile.
"Let me know what she thinks of my cooking, alright?" she smiled, wiggling her eyebrows in amusement before moving away to gather up the dishes he left on his table. He hid a few more gil under the gravy boat.
When he got back to their room, Celes was seated on her bed, rubbing her long hair down with a fluffy beige towel and dressed in a clean sky-blue tunic and loose black cotton trousers she got from Addison's basement. She looked up when Locke entered, her head snapping to face him before relaxing once she realized it was just him.
He sat the tray down on the small round table next to the only window and asked, "How're you feeling? The medicine help?"
She gave a nod and went back to drying her hair. He noticed the small vial of medicine he left on her bedside table that's supposed to discourage "accidents" was empty.
He maneuvered the plates on the tray around so the pie would be the first course. Whenever Locke had rough days, he always craved something sweet to eat before anything else. He wasn't sure how long she was chained up in that basement, but he had a feeling they probably didn't feed her much while she was there, if they fed her at all. Thank goodness the mistress of the inn seemed to share his opinion that people needed big hearty meals.
"That looks nice," Celes approached the table, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail, appearing mostly dry now. Locke moved out of the way so she could sit and took the chair at the other end of the table across from her. "I hope you like it! The food is great here."
When she sat down and noticed the pie, she quirked an eyebrow at him before picking up the fork and taking a bite.
Her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a sigh, nearly sounding blissful, "I haven't eaten in days…"
"Well if you're still hungry after supper, I'll go grab some more food from the kitchen if you want," he offered.
She shot him a hard look when she opened her eyes and saw the goofy grin on his face. "I'll be fine until breakfast after this."
"Okay, just know the offer's on the table!" Locke shrugged at her, grabbed one of the glasses from the tray, and poured himself a glass of water from the pitcher.
She ate slowly for a person who was starved for a few days, carefully taking small forkfuls and keeping her eyes down on her plate. He was surprised she wasn't gobbling everything down at light speed!
Locke let her eat in peace for a while, watching the road outside the inn where farmers were returning from the fields with their lunch pails and chattering together until they bid each other goodnight once reaching their front doors. Sunley was one of those villages where everybody knew everybody and for the most part, all got along. The people were close-knit, but enough travelers making their way to South Figaro stopped by that they didn't mind strangers.
When he glanced back at Celes, he saw that she had finished her pie and was working on cutting her pork chop into small pieces and tore the heel of sourdough bread in half.
"So, about what you said earlier, only recently finding out about the slave crown?" he left the question more open-ended than he liked, giving her the option to elaborate instead of responding with a curt answer and closing off again.
Celes didn't look up at him while she took a bite of the pork chop and chewed slowly before answering, "Neither Leo nor I knew what it was until it was too late. We thought it was just another gaudy piece of jewelry Kefka dressed her up in," she kept her gaze on her plate. "We thought he was influencing her, yes, but we didn't even fathom the extent of what that monster was doing."
Wow, if Celes and Leo didn't know what was going on, then maybe Emperor Gestahl didn't either. Giddy with how he stumbled on a way to get Celes to talk so freely, Locke asked, "Is that why you committed treason?"
"That was one of the reasons," she nodded, then looked up at him, making eye contact, her bright blue eyes now swimming with emotion. "Did you know Kefka is planning on poisoning Doma?"
"Excuse me?" Locke gaped, fists clenching, "When? How? We've got to stop him! I heard they were heading to Doma, but poison?!"
"That's the straw that broke my chocobo's back, so to speak. Finding out about the slave crown, finding out about Doma, him trying to force me to lead the occupation of South Figaro. He's using dirty tricks, horrible methods, no honorable soldier would resort to these disgusting methods…" Celes shook her head, wincing from moving her neck in that movement too quickly. Everything was spilling out as if she had been holding these words in for a long time.
"Why poison? What was he going to do to South Figaro that made you back down? Was he going to poison them too?"
"Have you heard of Cyan Garamonde?" when Locke shook his head, she continued, "He's the retainer to the king of Doma. He's been the head of their military for decades and their king's right hand. Their military is one of the few the Emperor has been cautious about fighting even though he has Magitek. Their sword arts are amazing…" she trailed off.
Locke waved his hand, urging her to continue. Damn, just ask this former general the right questions and she'll jabber away!
"Kefka wanted to use Magitek to destroy South Figaro instead of merely occupying it as the Emperor commanded. Make an example out of them. He's furious at King Edgar for taking Terra away from him."
"So, Kefka wants to speed up all these attacks to get them out of the way so he can find Terra," Locke concluded.
When Celes nodded again, Locke asked, "And Gestahl is okay with all of this?"
"Apparently…" she said darkly, gripping her knife so tight Locke wondered if it bent in her hand.
"Well, this is all the more reason to get to Narshe fast. The rest of the Returners will want to hear about this."
Celes gathered some mashed potatoes onto her fork and asked, "Do you think they'll be able to do anything about Kefka? I wasn't able to kill him on my own and I'm a Magitek Knight."
"I bet we can if we all work together." Locke grinned, "With you helping us, we'll be able to prepare a plan on how to take down that psycho bastard!"
"Go ahead! Tell the Emperor! I'm sure he would applaud my efforts to wipe out that pathetic kingdom so quickly!"
Crimson jewels sparkled when they caught the lantern light. Crimson like flames. Crimson like the strikes against her back from the leather whip.
"We can't have Little Leo finding out, however. He might try to stop me too. I still have uses for that goody-two-shoes."
Crimson dribbled down her back. Crimson-painted lips appeared in her vision. She wouldn't be surprised if his eyes were crimson like a demon's.
"But you, you're replaceable now."
The aroma of rich coffee and eggs woke Celes, drawing her out of the already fading dream. When she stretched, her back muscles flexing and stretching, she felt the pull of the wounds on her back, mostly healed from being left alone during her time in chains. She didn't feel the edges split back open. The guards preferred inflicting pain in other places.
"Morning, you like coffee or tea?" the too-chipper voice from across the room asked.
She rubbed at her eyes with her hand, finding the fingers wet when they pulled away. She turned her head to the side facing away from the stranger so she could wipe the rest of the mess away.
"Either is fine," Celes replied. She sat up and looked around, part of her still expecting the bloodied floor of her prison, not the neat little room of a country inn with handmade blankets and rugs. This was her first time staying in such a place and she couldn't help inspecting everything ravenously so she could remember it all in the future.
The clattering of porcelain and a hissed curse floated from across the room and she finally stood, finding her knees and ankles stronger than the day before. No tremors.
The strange man she was staying with was shaking his hand out while arranging the plates and utensils on the table with his other. Must have burned it.
She approached and held out her hand to him, "Here, give me the hand you burned." It came out more like a command than an entreaty.
"Huh?" He straightened after finishing messing with the cutlery, turning to face her. His brown eyes were curious as he looked down at her. No mistrust. No skepticism.
He did as she asked, fingers warm against her palm, and she closed her eyes, willing it to come, the energy to move, "Cure." The small green bubbles ebbed out of her hand and bounced onto where he burned himself. When she opened her eyes again, the skin was fading from angry red to the tan shade of the rest of him.
He looked from their hands, his still in hers, to her face and gave her a sun-shining smile, "Thanks! Feels much better now."
Celes pulled her hand away and sank into the nearest chair, "You've seen healing magic before." It was a statement, not a question. When she looked up from the strips of bacon and fried potatoes to his still grinning face, he nodded.
"From Terra, I assume?"
"That's right," Locke sat down opposite her and started adding sugar to his coffee, way too much in her opinion, "Her magic's gotten us out of some tight squeezes before."
"Were you the one who found her? We heard that she went missing during the raid in Narshe," Celes watched him pour an excessive amount of cream gravy over his shredded potatoes and biscuits. Some dripped over the side of his plate onto the tablecloth.
"Yup, one of the Returners found her in the mines with that crown on her head. Right after he removed the crown, the Narshe guards came looking for her," Locke took a big bite of his biscuits and Celes waited for him to continue. He chewed too fast.
"That's when I got called on to find her and help her out. The guards were going to kill her otherwise."
Celes sipped from her mug of coffee, grateful for the warmth to soothe her raw throat. So, she wasn't the only one who was going to be killed by guards. Both of them were punished for different crimes.
And this strange man, this Returner whose friendliness made Celes' hackles rise, rescued them both. Regular people weren't so friendly. Perhaps the Returners liked using him because of his ability to put those around him at ease. The sneaking around and disguise hinted that he was a spy of some kind. Being so exhausted the day before made her too trusting of him.
"The cuts and bruises look a lot better this morning," he commented, using his fork to point at her neck, "Does your magic make you heal faster?"
"Yes, though my healing spells have never been as strong as Terra's. I was taught to control spells that could be used for combat and destruction," Celes answered. She only spoke of her magic like this with Doctor Cid or Leo normally. Her injuries and torture must be the cause for her loose tongue.
"Sounds like you two were pretty close! I'm sure Terra will enjoy seeing you again," Locke said before finishing off his plate. How in the world did he eat so fast?
"If she remembers me," Celes ducked her head down and moved her scrambled eggs around her plate, avoiding looking back at his face. Doctor Cid said that the crown caused severe memory loss in the test subjects before Terra. She pushed the melancholy feelings away that started trying to worm into her head. Surely upon meeting her again, Terra would remember her. Two years wearing the slave crown…could it have erased much?
The local farmers were only able to spare one chocobo for their journey to the caves north, which Celes wasn't entirely pleased with. She would rather bear her remaining aches and pains riding one of the enormous birds alone instead of dealing with the additional jostling and moving of another person in front of her.
They left after picking up some bread and cheese at the general store and Locke sent a carrier pigeon to Narshe to alert the Returners of his arrival within the next few days. She noticed that he included that he was bringing a new Returner with him, but left out her name. The rest of the message was in code—something about willow trees falling in a river. No wonder the Empire had trouble deciphering the Returner's messages they intercepted. Whoever developed the code must be a crackpot.
Locke managed to buy her the only sword left at the general store as well, an old thing she would need to sharpen when she had the time, but its hilt was strong and the blade sure and straight.
Having the familiar weight of a sword at her hip gave Celes a sense of security for the first time in days. Not the clothes, the meals rich in grease, or even being spirited away from that damned makeshift prison cell, but a weapon.
She did not wrap her arms around him like he suggested when mounting the chocobo, favoring keeping her hands gripping her legs, trying to keep distance between them. She hadn't ridden on the same bird with somebody since she was a girl, and back then it felt as natural as breathing, clutching onto that olive green military doublet and enjoying his stories while they rode. Leo always told the best stories.
They traveled in quiet for the hours it took to reach the caves leading to the Figaro desert, and upon dismounting and untying their belongings from the saddle, Locke asked, "Do you know if Kefka has any soldiers patrolling around the desert? He had a ship docked to the south before the attack on the castle."
Celes shook her head after straightening her tunic and adjusting her sword belt, "That was the ship he took to Doma after arresting me."
"Alright, let's hope he didn't leave anybody behind to make life difficult for us."
"Who knows at this point?" Celes said quietly while settling her bag on her shoulders with consideration for the bruises left. Kefka's actions as of late have been the most erratic she has ever seen. Losing Terra must have knocked something loose.
"Only one way to find out," Locke shrugged and let go of the reins of the chocobo. He pat its beak as a farewell and led the way inside the caves. The bird was trained to return home on its own.
Inside the first section, he picked up a torch left against the wall and looked to Celes, "Do you happen to know fire magic?"
"Ice is my element."
He plucked a box of matches from his pocket and struck it, "Well it's a good thing I always keep matches on me then! These caves aren't fun to navigate in the dark."
Once the flame caught and put out enough light, Locke led the way through the caves, much like how he led the way back in South Figaro. Celes let her eyes wander while they walked, taking in the craggy ground, and the long stalactites which made it appear that they were walking inside a great beast with enormous teeth. Perhaps a dragon.
Rumbling sounded in the distance and dust shuddered down from the ceiling.
"Huh?" Locke stopped without warning, causing Celes to skip back a step before bumping into him. He looked around them, moving his hand and holding the torch as far out as he could reach to attempt to see more in the darkness.
"Do other travelers go through these caves?" Celes asked, watching him put his hand on his belt over one of his daggers.
His eyes were scanning the area still, eyebrows furrowed, "Not often. Most people prefer the mountain passes even though it takes longer because it's safer."
When the sounds didn't return and Locke couldn't see anything suspicious, they continued through the winding path, though she saw that Locke slipped a dagger into his other hand. His air of easy smiles had morphed into watchful quiet as they walked.
Only their footsteps echoed off the cave walls until they reached a room where a spring of sparkling water was tucked in the back corner.
"We're almost out of here," Locke said, "Maybe that noise was just the mountains shaking their heads at what's going on in the world these days."
She couldn't tell if he was joking or not. That smile was easy, the same one he'd been giving her since the day before. She didn't smile back as she went to the spring's edge and looked down into the depths. It was so dark she couldn't see the bottom.
A turtle was floating lazily nearby, bobbing up and down as the water folded over itself, looking completely content while it watched them.
"How long do you estimate it will take to reach Narshe?" Celes asked, crouching down to withdraw a waterskin from her pack to refill it before their trek into the desert.
"It should only take us a few days, maybe three, four at most depending on the weather and if there are any new roadblocks in the way," he scratched above his ear where one of his bandanas was trying to slide down.
"I doubt Kefka left troops behind to keep watch for Figaro castle to resurface. He was too eager to take care of South Figaro and Doma the last time I saw him…" Celes stood, still facing the water. Leo would be the one to plan for another attempt to raid Narshe for the frozen esper. Kefka was acting much too rash. She understood why Locke was concerned, however. Why should he trust her completely when they've only just met? And what if Kefka backtracked after leaving her in South Figaro and did station troops near the desert? Anything was possible.
Before Locke could reply, the rumbling came again, this time louder, closer, much closer. The ground beneath their feet started shaking, and dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling of the cave. The turtle floating in the spring let out a loud rasping croak before diving down into the dark water.
"What the?" Locke started, head turning from side to side, watching the walls, poised to run.
By the time Celes turned around, the side of one wall of the cave crashed open with a deafening blast, showering them with stones and nearly sending them both backward into the spring.
The source of the destruction emerged, blocking the exit leading to the Figaro desert. They didn't need the torch anymore. A new, blinding source of light revealed a massive obsidian machine that had bright headlights on either side of the blazing blood-red emblem of the Empire on the steel plate above the huge front wheel. The machine had two arm-like appendages with drills at the ends.
Through the falling dust, Celes saw a familiar shape in the cockpit perched atop the machine guarded by steel spikes: the helmet of a Magitek Knight.
"I can't believe he brought this thing with him," Celes breathed, fighting off the urge to cough.
Locke looked at her with wide eyes, "You know what this thing is?"
The machine revved its wheels and started towards them, both drill arms whirring. Celes pulled Locke with her, dodging the nearest drill, pulled her sword from its sheath, and dropped her pack from her shoulders.
"It's called tunnel armor," Celes kept her eyes on the Magitek Knight inside the machine. "They use it when excavating in the mountains for ore deposits!"
The machine spun around towards them, drills swinging, and a bolt of lightning cracked right in front of Locke, just barely missing him. He flung himself backward and threw the torch at the cockpit, but the fire didn't even leave a scorch mark on the metal.
"Oh great! That asshole knows magic!" Locke yelled, scrambling to his feet, "What the hell are we supposed to do now?!"
Another bolt of lightning cracked in the air over Celes, but instead of striking her dead on, her whole body glowed white briefly, and the spell melted down into the tip of her sword.
Her eyes glowed an icy blue when she looked at Locke, "Focus on cutting the joints apart! I'll absorb the spells!"
He blinked, shocked, before he shook himself and pulled another dagger from his belt. Now with a blade in each hand, Locke sprinted to the tunnel armor, dashing to the side to avoid another swipe of the drill arm, and hopped onto the side of the machine above one of the back wheels. He started slashing wires at the base of the arm and wherever else he saw an opening in the hull.
On the other side, Celes focused the spell she absorbed into her sword to slash the spell back at the tunnel armor, aiming directly at the Magitek Knight inside. The impact of her attack caused the machine to rock sideways.
The roaring of the tunnel armor filled the cave and lightning thundered down, now more haphazard. The Knight inside the cockpit was moving the levers around in a flurry and looked to be screaming his spells.
She saw Locke's head appear over the top of the hull after one of the drill arms fell with a crash and a shower of sparks. He grinned at her before climbing up next to the cockpit, looking quickly for places to start cutting at next.
More spells rained down and Celes held her sword high, inhaling deep to keep her focus on drawing the energy into her. The act was mending her body faster than any medicine or simple healing spell. Her aches and pains were gone, her cuts healed, and her fatigue diminished completely.
She rushed the machine, her sword already moving in an arc to the nearest joint on the remaining drill arm, and cut clean through it, sending the drill flying to the ground. Celes jumped and landed on the hull catlike, cutting down the remainder of the arm the same moment her heels hit the metal.
She pointed her sword directly at the Magitek Knight inside the cockpit whose young face was dripping with sweat and whose eyes were wild.
"Locke! You need to get out of the way," she shouted over the roaring of the engines. She maintained eye contact with the Knight while Locke leaped off the back of the machine where he had been trying to break apart the mechanism that held the reinforced glass dome over the Knight in place.
Celes knew the Knight. They were sparring partners numerous times. His affinity for lightning magic was exceptional.
"Surrender," she commanded, making sure that he could read her lips.
The Knight bared his teeth and she was able to read his response easily.
"Traitorous bitch!"
Another spark of lightning erupted.
"Then die," Celes breathed deeply again, her hair broke free of the tie holding it in place and flew out all around her when the lightning struck her body, this spell the strongest yet. She glimmered, the Knight's last spell warped and sped to her blade. She swung her sword with both hands gripping the handle and slashed the dome over the cockpit, cutting through easily into glass and bone.
The lightning she absorbed caused her strike to cauterize instantly, leaving behind a burned slash starting at the Knight's shoulder down to his hip where his entrails tried oozing from the cracks behind the scorched flesh.
His eyes were open still, gazing up at nothing. His name whispered into her mind.
She knelt and flipped the power switch on the control panel, causing the entire tunnel armor to tremble before powering down with a metallic wheeze from the exhaust pipes. The headlights remained on.
"Damn!" came Locke's voice below. "That was close!"
Celes looked away from her recent comrade, one of the many she turned her back on, and found where Locke was gathering up their travel packs from the ground.
"Let's leave," she slid down the side of the machine and sheathed her sword once her feet touched the ground.
"What kind of magic was that?" Locke asked after handing her travel pack to her outstretched hand. "I've never seen anything like it!"
"Runic magic, according to Doctor Cid," Celes sighed and headed to the exit of the cave without looking at Locke or the smoking machine and dead Knight.
He trotted after her, "Well, it was amazing! Hell, no wonder you got to be a general so young with that kind of power!"
Her skin prickled, tingling still from absorbing so much magic in such a short amount of time. Locke's praises were setting her on edge. She didn't respond to them.
Warm air blew into the cave from the exit and she saw scrubby grass and weeds clustered along the path.
She paused once she reached the exit and unwrapped one of the scarves from her neck to tie her hair back, now wild from her magic.
Locke stopped his commentary, "Oh hey, your bruises are gone!" He was all smiles now that they were safely out of the caves.
"Yes, that's what happens when I steal others' spells." She didn't want to discuss it further.
"That'll be useful against the Empire when they attack again," Locke beamed and led the way north from the caves at an easy pace.
"Right," Celes followed him along the dried-out path on the outskirts of the Figaro desert.
The evening was coming, and so would setting up camp somewhere for the night, probably far off the main path hidden away, maybe near a stream. Locke would continue asking questions over their bread and cheese, probing for whatever information she felt like sharing. She didn't blame him. He was a Returner after all.
She needed to get used to answering questions, giving away Imperial secrets, and disclosing anything the Returners could use in their rebellion against the Empire. In his message, Locke referred to her as a new Returner.
Perhaps being a Returner would be better than being a traitor to the whole world she left behind.
A/N: Hello there! I completely forgot to upload these chapters after posting them on AO3! Sorry about that! I know this was an intense chapter, but like I said above, it was an intense situation Celes was in!
Thank you for reading!