Note: 2nd part of the beginnings of the story. I don't want the setup to go on too long, but at the same time, I feel that things need to progress at a reasonable and believable pace. Well, as likely as a world with a giant turtle, Moogles, and everything save for Chocobos can be. I'll admit, I'm a fan of slower stuff, yet even then, I want those areas to weight them.

As a heads up, Charlotte and Kevin's take place around the same time that Duran and Angela's parts begin, as in, they were all co-occurring. So there will be things taking place at different times for the introductions of the characters, but I'll let you know the order in which they take place. Also, unlike the game, events don't immediately happen after another, as you'll see here.

Also, there will be references to future locations here that will come into play later.

UPDATE: Special thanks to Falchion1984 for the editing!

© of Square Enix

Charlotte and Kevin

Wendel, the Holy City

The flowering fields stretched on and on as far as her wide, blue eyes could see. They were still somewhere on the temple grounds, though it looked far from it. She didn't know exactly how she could understand; it was just something she sensed. A strong sense of security and comfort permeated everywhere, so where would she be if not on the temple grounds? And if not there, it was somewhere just as pleasant, if not more so. She knelt by a patch of colorful, perfectly shaped flowers, seemingly teasing, begging her to pick them and take them with her. This land was perfect. Nothing short of absolute perfection.

Then, she became aware that she wasn't alone.

Looking up from the flower patch, she saw two figures standing a short distance away: a brunette man garbed in armor and a blonde woman garbed in a flowing dress resembling a flower's petals at the sleeves and skirt. Both gazed upon the small girl, the woman bending down and extending her arms as if offering her an embrace. She felt drawn to the woman, leaving her flowers and running towards the two with little idea of who they were, but she felt a deep connection, far more profound than she could've fathomed for people she had never met. Even then, she knew who they were.

Yet as she drew closer, the two figures seemed to dematerialize before her eyes. She tried to quicken her pace, rushing with outstretched hands in some futile attempt to catch them before they went away again. Again.

"Mama!" she cried, tears beginning to brim in her eyes. "Papa! Whewe are you going?!" she ran as fast as she could, yet she couldn't go fast enough. Just as soon as she spotted them, they vanished from the once pristine, beautiful area, which began to grey and rot all around, flowering plants withering away and the trees growing gnarled and dead. "Wait!" she shouted, continuing to run, even past the dust that once composed her parents. "Don't weave me!" she lost her footing and tripped over herself, landing hard in the dried, cracked earth that once was fertile and green. "Don't weave me…"


"Don't weave me…"

"Charlotte? Charlotte, wake up."

"Pwease...Mama...Papa…"

"Charlotte!"

Her blue eyes opened up, the sight of a young man decked in a white tunic and robe with chopped, lilac hair staring down at her with pale blue eyes. "H-Heath…" she breathed out, the young man hoisting her up and helping her get a steady breathing pattern back.

"Another dream?" he asked the girl, Charlotte, nodding.

"They were wight thewe," she told him, voice unsteady and wavering. "They wewe wight thewe, and then they disappeawed again," People she didn't know, yet just called her parents. Were they? She had no idea.

Heath averted his gaze for a moment, pondering on what to say. "Do you want me to tell your grandfather?"

"N-No," she told him, shaking her head. "I'm a big giwl now. I just wurned fifween last month! I...I'm ok. Weawwy!"

"Well, if you say so." the young man rose from her bed, going over to the door. He already needed to speak about something earlier with His Eminence. Now it seemed that there was yet another subject at hand.

As the girl rose from her bed, her nightgown rustling with the motion, she headed to the nearby chest of drawers to retrieve her garb of choice. Slipping it on, she headed to the small mirror in the corner of the room and studied her reflection. Much like the woman she'd seen in her dreams, her "Mama," the girl had a mane of blonde hair that reached her waist. It cascaded in thick waves of curls that fanned out as wide as her slender hips. Curiously, her blonde tresses were topped with a bright pink cap, white trims, and two tails ending in pompoms. The resemblance between her hat and those commonly worn by jesters was said, sometimes in unfriendly tones, not to be coincidental. Her comically oversized pink boots lent this further credence. The rest of her ensemble consisted of a collared dark blue jumper. In addition, she wore a tabard trimmed in gold leaf and embroidered with several patterns, one fascinating example being a sun stitched in the center. All in all, she had some wondering whether she was a young acolyte dressed as a clown or vice-versa. Regardless, her big, bright blue eyes and delicate features, rounded with baby fat which lent her cheeks a pinchable quality, often made the elders consider her positively adorable. However, her reflection seemed to scowl in frustration at how she looked, literally half her actual age. If even.

Maybe some time with Mik would get her spirits back up.

The only thing was, where WAS he? Where was that boy? He wasn't anywhere in the usual spots. The garden? Nope. The balcony? Nope. Where WAS he? She doubted that she'd find anything downstairs, but still, she had to look everywhere.

"Your Eminence," wait, that voice. "I'd like to talk to you about Charlotte." Heath? Charlotte snuck around, peering behind the wall that led to the main hall and, thus, the place of worship in the temple.

Peering around, a bearded man of elderly age gazed upon the younger priest; he was garbed in white robes and a prominent bishop's cap atop his head. "Mana's blessings be with you, young Heath. But yes, how is my dear granddaughter?"

Heath's features then grew concerned. "I believe...there may be something going on."

"Such as?"

"Well...you know of her elven heritage, yes?"

The priest averted his eyes for a moment as if remembering something painful had come to mind. "Yes. What of it concerns you?"

"Well, it's just a hunch," Heath spoke. "But...I believe that, given it, she might be sensing something."

The priest was puzzled yet nonetheless intrigued. Perhaps this would serve even further conviction to what he needed to know. "Such as?"

"The shift in Mana, your Eminence," Heath explained. "Again, it's simply a theory. Yet, given the race's connection to it-"

"Young man," the priest interrupted. "Forgive me, but this is what I feared to hear," he muttered. "I knew that the sign I saw wasn't just a fantasy...yet I didn't wish to believe it."

"Your Eminence?" Heath was caught off guard by being led to the sculpture of a beautiful, lovely woman: a statue of the Mana Goddess, though no one knew of her actual appearance.

"Look at her eyes." the priest told him. "And look carefully. Then tell me, what do you see?"

Heath looked at the gorgeous visage of chiseled rock, pondering what oddity could be on its structure. Then, he saw it. Water was seeping from her carved tear ducts. Tears. The Goddess was crying. "This...is this…."

"Indeed." The priest answered, nodding solemnly. The Goddess statue was shedding genuine tears. Though whether for Mana or them, neither was sure. Perhaps it was for both.

Ferolia, Kingdom of the Beastmen

A punch aiming for his abdomen was thrust forward, which he blocked. A kick to the side of his head, of which he ducked. Punch, kick, kick, punch. Punch, kick, kick, punch. This seemed to be the basic pattern his opponent had followed, which was no stranger to him. He had mastered it well.

His opponent was a hulking brute compared to him, his muscles large and his skin dark. He bore a long mane of gold and pointed ears, though he was no Elf or Faerie. He had eyes of amber and long nails of black that resembled claws and tufts of fur that covered his chest, shoulders, and forearms, making him appear akin to a hybrid of animal and man. Bands of silver rested on his wrists, and he wore a long red cloak with golden trimmings and a white fur collar. A black belt was fastened around his waist with a pair of baggy martial parts pants that bore a yellow color with blue stripes resembling claw markings. He wore silver greaves, though he had no footwear of any kind, the nails on his toes as equally black as his claws.

Though clearly of the same race that mingled man and beast, the young man he faced could be described as bearing a passing resemblance. And described charitably, at that. Indeed, a discerning eye would notice that he looked out of place amongst his race. Though his skin was also of a dark tone and his eyes glowed like amber, the similarities began to dwindle beyond that point. His mane was far wilder than the towering figure before him, and rather than a long cape, he wore a fur-collared vest over his small, well-muscled torso. Like many of his less-than-supportive audience, he wore loose pants decorated with tiger print patterns, and he eschewed a shirt, thus leaving his well-developed muscles in plain view. However, few eyes looked upon them favorably. A blue sash trimmed in gold bisected his chest while blue wristbands encircled his arms, the one on his right wrist adorned with green and red beads while brownish beads accentuated the left. A simple necklace upon which was strung a single fang dangled from his neck while a small, flat-topped conical hat, which some claimed resembled a fez from distant Nevarl, was nearly lost amidst his fierce tangle of thick yellow hair. Like most of his kind, he went barefoot, though bandages encircled the soles of his feet and wound partway up his calves.

Of course, these differences were paltry compared to what truly set him apart from the others around him or the towering figure before him. Firstly, compared to them, he was tiny. Though heavily muscled, he was well below the stature of an adult human. Compared to everyone around him, he seemed a runt amongst his race. And this was reflected in the way his peers treated him.

Further, though his eyes shone with the ferocity and fire of one tempered by a life of violence, no hint of bloodlust gleamed in his golden orbs. But, of course, these differences were paltry compared to what truly set him apart from the others around him or the towering figure before him. Firstly, compared to them, he was tiny. Though heavily muscled, he was well below the stature of an adult human and seemed very much a runt amongst his race. And this was reflected in the way his peers treated him. Further, though his eyes shone with the ferocity and fire of one tempered by a life of violence, no hint of bloodlust gleamed in his golden orbs.

And it continued to show in combat.

"Come on, Princeling!" the giant man shouted, thrusting his leg his way. "Is that all you can do?!" another punch. "Present your real power, damn you!" On and on he went, throwing blow after blow.

Finally, at long last, he received some sense of retaliation. When his opponent kicked in his direction, the younger man let the incoming foot pass him over his shoulder, and he seized the ankle. He then swiped his foot against the other ankle of the more prominent man, essentially bringing him off his feet and to the floor, landing in a heap. He got back up, yet a series of blows met him as he rose, forcing him further back. Finally, he threw a punch, yet he was greeted with a swift kick to the side of his head, sending the older man spinning and landing flat on the ground on his stomach; he then grew still and silent.

The younger man's adrenaline subsided at the sight of the motionless figure on the floor, standing there and awaiting some form of movement, only to receive none. 'Oh no…' he thought, steadily beginning to approach the still form of his opponent. Had he gone too far? Kneeling by the fallen figure, the young man shook him gently. "Are...you ok?" he asked, receiving no answer. "Hey, are you-ULK!"

He was cut off by a large, clawed hand seizing his throat, cutting off his air, and lifting him high off the ground. The more prominent man had gotten the literal upper hand, his victim thrashing around and trying to pry his hand from his throat: digging into the skin of his hand and arm, pulling at the hair on his forearms, yet to no avail. The claws of his opponet dug into his throat, breaking the skin and allowing small trails of blood to travel down his fingers, the one in his grasp beginning to cease his struggles, his throat burning and the world around him becoming little more than blurs of colors and vague shapes surrounding him in a blackening world.

"Ludgar! Enough!" a bellowing, deeply toned voice shouted. The giant man, Ludgar, dropped the younger man; the younger man then took in deep gasps of air as he tried to get to his knees. An even larger man entered the room, a long cape of blue-lined fur trailing behind him. He bore a large beard and a mane of gold and hair on his forearms and legs, as well as the tops of his feet, his nails on them, and his hands dark and clawed. A wrap of blue was around his waist, a cloth of a lighter blue in the center that came down lower, bracelets around his wrists and ankles, and a golden belt around his waist. He looked down at the younger man, clearly displeased with what he had just seen. "Kevin…" he snarled; the young man got to his feet, though he didn't dare gaze at the towering figure in the face.

The young man, Kevin, only could look down at the floor, wishing nothing more than to sink into it and disappear from everything and everyone.

Wendel

"Wh-What is the meaning of this?" Heath questioned, clearly unnerved by what he was seeing.

The Priest of Light shook his head, just as disturbed as he and the hidden Charlotte were. "It had begun but a short time ago," he answered, remembering the day he had first seen it well. "The weekly service was taking place. As I was speaking, those in the pews, regular attendees, began gasping and screaming, getting up and rushing towards the exit as if something terrible had somehow manifested before them. I was bewildered about what was going on, yet as I turned to see, I too nearly ran from here myself."

"Upon seeing the statue crying?"

"No." the old man shook his head, chills coming up his body. "It wasn't just crying tears then." the following words that came from his mouth made both Heath and Charlotte freeze up. "It was crying blood."

The entirety of the temple seemed to go silent. "B-Blood?"

The priest nodded. "I fear that dark times are coming upon us." he then turned to look upon the statue again, tears continuing to flow down its cheeks. "And your report of Charlotte only further cements this conclusion."

The younger temple member looked to the floor, at a complete loss at what he had just heard. "Is there...something that we can do?"

The older man sighed. "That...is hard to say."

Then, Heath spoke again. "Your Eminence," he began. "Send me to go."

Charlotte nearly allowed a "WHAT?!" to slip from her lips, yet she covered her mouth and kept silent.

"You, Heath?" The priest questioned.

"Yes." Heath nodded. "I shall go and seek council the elemental Lumina themself, as well as view the Light Stone."

Charlotte listened in well. "The Light Stone? Lumina?" her grandfather questioned. "But Heath, the reports on the dwellings of Cascade Cave have been troubling as of late. The monsters that have taken to calling it home have increased in number, and there have been rumors of large tremors occurring from deep within."

"Tremors?"

"Yes. What is causing them, no one is sure, but whatever it is, it must be rather massive in size. Though where it lies, it's unknown."

"Your Eminence," Heath argued. "If these signs are to be believed, then we cannot afford to wait." the young priest approached the stand behind which the old man stood. "If Mana's power is fading, things will only worsen here. You know well the catastrophes that occur when such times come upon us. In your time, while Mana was not waning, there was a great catastrophe and the real possibility of war breaking out?" the old man grew silent. "There is a passage in the Cascade Cave, east of Astoria, that leads to the Light Stone. If something is going on, then the Stone shall tell us. And should I be able to gain an audience, then Lumina themselves shall alert me of what is occurring."

The priest remained silent for a while, the entire hall bathed in silence, Charlotte watching, nearly forgetting to breathe due to the choking tension present. "...all right." her grandfather finally said. "You shall go."

Heath inwardly sighed in relief. "Thank you, your Eminence."

"But please, do not go until you are prepared. The distance may not be as far as traveling to a different land, but it is nonetheless treacherous."

"I won't simply leave without any essentials," Heath assured.

"But, Heath, I must ask this of you." the old man began. "Please, do not tell Charlotte a word of this. If she asks, simply say that you have been called to Astoria for some business."

"I know she probably won't take that well either." the priest confessed. "Yet tell her gently. Perhaps she'll understand."

Quite the contrary, Charlotte needed to hear no more.

Ferolia

Duskmoon forest. A place that aptly lived up to its name. The entirety of the Beastmen's Kingdom was surrounded by this thickened collection of flora, the moon ever-present and every hanging over their heads. The sun never showed its face here, casting the area in perpetual night, everything shrouded in thickened shadows with sparse light from the lesser light above.

Though to Kevin, it was the perfect place to hide from everything.

"You fool." The bearded beastman's voice echoed in his head. 'You let yourself be bested so easily?' he continued to walk through the thickened brush, trying with every amount of willpower he could muster to block out the voice, yet to no avail. "Shameful. Completely shameful. And those around here even wonder if you are truly my son."

"RRAGH!" he could take it no more. A nearby tree served as the means to take his wrath on, a fist pounding into the thickened trunk as leaves rustled and some fell due to the impact, several of the airborne denizens above becoming startled and rising from their branches to go off somewhere presumably safer. He bit his lip, feeling his eyes begin to grow moist. No, no, no! He couldn't! Not now!

"And those around here even wonder if you are truly my son."

Yet he couldn't stop it; a single tear began to trail down his cheek, his teeth practically gnawing down on his lip as he tried to contain any more from coming down. Yet it was no use. The older beastman's words continued to recite themselves in his mind on a continuous loop with no reprieve in sight.

Suddenly, he heard a whine down below. Then, he felt tiny paws putting themselves against his leg. Sighing, he looked down to see a small wolf pup looking up at him with large, curiosity-filled eyes. His fur was light, golden, and around its right foreleg were small bracelets resembling the young man's armlets. "K-Karl…" Kevin breathed out, kneeling to greet the pup. Karl gave a small whimper, though the young beastman shook his head. "No. I'm...fine. It's nothing. Really." this didn't stop the pup from hosting himself up and licking at his cheek, catching the salty moisture on his tongue. "H-Hey! Karl! T-Tickles!" The puppy seemed to use this as further motivation, continuing to lick. Then, Kevin fell over, Karl utilizing this opportunity to deliver licks anywhere he could reach on his face and neck. "K-Karl! Haha! C-C'mon! Stop!" Kevin's pleas fell on deaf ears; however, the pup continued his assault. "Ok! Ok! I-heehee-I'm fine! Ple-hee-se stop!" seemingly satisfied with this, and because he didn't want to exhaust him completely, Karl stopped, allowing the beastman to rise to a sitting position. "Thank you…" the pup wagged his tail and leaped upon Kevin again, giving him a few more licks on the cheek.

Note: I switched it up as given the faerie arriving right then wouldn't have made sense yet, as she's yet to appear. Also, her arrival will mean something for each character, as all six will be involved in this. Again, Charlotte and Kevin's events co-occur with Duran and Angela's. Though with Hawkeye and Riesz, things will be a bit different, as Hawkeye's takes place at night, while Riesz's is in the day. Also, some bosses will be given more of a place in the story aside from just being there, and some will be omitted as they would just slow the story down unnecessarily.

That said, thank you for reading; please comment and give kudos if you enjoyed it, and I hope to see you all again soon!