Chapter 15: Christmas Special
The winds of departed souls swept the sand across the face of Figaro castle. No other sound split the silence of death. It had rested, thus,
for two weeks now, with nothing but rats to rule over its once mighty
towers.
Ruled first by life, then death, Figaro marked the Golden Age of peace
that lasted so shortly, after the death of Kefka. Now, it marked the Reign of Zemus, and the destruction he had wrought. But as the wind howled over the stone and steel, two men, on foot, approached.
"King Edgar, I'm so sorry," said Cyan, staring at the ravaged castle. "I
had known it was overrun, but the magnitude...I did not know."
"I did. I could feel it here," said Edgar, thumping his chest with a gauntlet fist. He stared into the sand, his face hidden behind a visor helm, no flesh showing beneath his pitch black mail.
"We will pay him back, Edgar, tenfold. For this and more. For each death, he shall suffer an eternity. It is for this that we were made.
All our lives, all our triumphs, all for vengeance. We shall not fail."
"No," whispered Edgar, marching forward. "No, we shall not."
Atop the tower, Locke Cole, reborn, watched the two kings. Such weak
fools, he thought. I am the only true power in this world. Zemus and I. That is all that matters now. And Celes...
he told the Crystal of Air, harshly. Small zephyrs
became torrents of writhing air as he was thrust violently into the chambers beneath. Waiting. Waiting for his old friends.
"Locke?" called Cyan, shouting into the shadows. "I know you are here.
We must speak of our war."
The shadows parted to reveal Locke, his body glowing with red light as
his pure white eyes stared, at what, Cyan could not tell. "I am here, Lord of Doma. My friends told me to come here. I do not know what good
you and Edgar shall do." Locke swiveled his head to face the King of
Figaro. "Your brother lies dead, Edgar, buried in Kohlingen." At this,
Edgar cried out, in pain. "Dead by the same hand that crippled me and
destroyed my wife."
"Why...who...how?" questioned Edgar, his voice filled with agony. Locke merely smiled.
"Servants of Zeromus. Now why are you here? I am far more powerful than ANYTHING you have ever seen. Kefka was like a child to what I am now. The powers of the Crystals flow through me!" To emphasize this point, Locke hurled fire and ice into the air, tearing apart the ceiling.
"Locke. They are using you. The Crystals. They created Zeromus, turned him to the Dark Path. Don't let them do the same to you," implored Edgar, removing his ebony mask. "Don't let them destroy you."
"DESTROY ME! Do you know what destroyed me, Edgar? The weakness of this world! Of its petty Goddesses! We were meant to be ruled by violence! The strong shall ever rule the weak, thus it has been, thus it must be. Because we failed to follow the natural order, the Empire nearly claimed all of our world! The Empire took Rachel away from me, Edgar, because you, and your weak nation, couldn't stop them! You, Cyan, you and your petty noble notions of honor and valor, these did you no good when your wife and son lay dead at your feet! Look around you, Kings of Weakness! We LET Zemus come and destroy us! Seeking the advice of the weak, we strove only to become weaker, to become mere shadows of what we could be! No, I am what I must be, a tool of Destruction! That is what we all must be, until our fury, and that of this world, has been vented. Then the cleansing fire of War may be completed, and our lands may once again be their own! For this, Edgar Roni Figaro, and Cyan Garamonde, for this and this alone do we fight! Not for vengeance, but to set this world right again!" Locke stopped, panting for breath. Edgar had tears streaming down his face. In Cyan only anger was alive.
"You know fire, now, Relm. Now you must learn what creates fire. Not
wood, flint, and steel, but the soul. It must come from within, Relm. You cannot make fire from a soul of ashes. Only those with the power can do it," at this Kefka laughed, a soulless sound. "I can make fire no
longer, my kitten. Nor can Terra. She is just a pawn of the Black King,
Zemus. You, you will be my Queen. Do you play chess, Relm?" asked
Kefka, his eyes clear with a sanity she had never before seen.
"No, Kefka. No I do not." Relm sat down, cross-legged, expecting
another lecture. But Kefka was telling her things. Dark things, only
whispered in shadows before, but things she had never known about herself. And he said he knew her father.
"In chess, my dear, the King is the ruler of all. He is, nominally, the most important piece. But the Queen, Relm, the Queen may move anywhere she wishes. And she kills, Relm, the Queen kills them all. Even the mighty King, he too must fear the Queen." Kefka laughed, and the madness returned to his voice. "You must burn, Relm, you must burn them all. I set you free, now, to go to Figaro. When you are there, then you shall learn the truth about your father."
Relm stood, staring up into Kefka's eyes, her own filled with fury. "You
said you would tell me!"
"I never said I wouldn't lie, now did I, my kitten?" Kefka smiled, his
white teeth gleaming in the shadows. "Now go to Figaro, and bring your
fire, Relm, for they await you there." Kefka suddenly faded back into
the shadows, and Relm found herself alone, in her bedroom.
"The Madman's path, it's called, because it is treacherous beyond belief. It is underwater, used only by the most foolhardy smugglers. Within it, the Empire conducted all of its experiments in magic, many monsters and horrors remain. I myself never dared to risk traversing it, nor would if there was any other choice." Shadow sat on one of the velvet cushions. "Will you do it?"
"Why would I, Sir Shadow? Do you think I am crazy?"
"A little, yes. You long for power you may never have here, in this
wasteland." Shadow stood again, pulling a piece of lint from his black
clothing. "Power is not all that you think it is, Ms. Darryl, or Ms. Selan, if you prefer. But if it is power you want, you must go to the north."
Darryl leaned forward, staring into Shadow's eyes, barely visible within
his mask. She wanted this man, more than anything she had ever wanted
before. She wanted to take her men to the north, and conquer, with this
man ruling at her side. All that stood in the way...
"Will you do it, my love," asked Setzer, breaking her concentration.
"Please, I feel that when you stand under the clouds of the north, you
will remember our love, what is was, and what it will be again." Setzer
was wild now, standing, pacing the room, "Please, I know in my heart that you will remember!"
Darryl sighed, looking at Setzer. "Very well, Northerners, I will take
my band to your home. To madness, my associates, and the fruit it yields!" Darryl stood smiling at Shadow. "Let us tell the others."