Filling In The Blanks
Disclaimer: I don't own FFIX or any of its characters.
Chapter 84: The Hottest of Suns
"I feel an uneasiness in the rain…" Steiner looked up from his spot on the front step of the house. His dark eyes watched her calm figure, looking for any crack in her stone exterior. "Where is Amarant?"
The knight looked back down at his sword, and continued scrubbing at it with his rag. This was his first time seeing rain (he didn't count the blustering storm when escaping Lindblum as just rain) since they'd been in Dali as far as he could remember, and his sword was dull under the weight of the past year. He shook his head – had it really been that long since they'd fled their longtime home?
He had planned to clean his weapon and sharpen it, the required materials sitting next to him in a small heap on the stone step.
"It must be the rain," he chuckled. "Of course when we finally get a moment's peace in such fine weather, that's disturbed by the feeling of prolonged chaos too."
She shook her head. "The rain has always been calm in Bermecia." Freya took off her hat, clutching it limply at her side as she stepped out from under the small awning of protection, letting the drops dampen her hair. "But not now… Secrecy is on the wind."
"You speak in riddles, Freya," The knight said softly, a wry smile on his face. "What does this mean?"
"We might not be safe here for very much longer, but we cannot leave."
"Why do you say that?"
"If we can find a way to thwart the guards, then we can find a way to get these people out from under Kuja's rule. If we can find a way, maybe we could take some to join us, and lead the rest to their brethren in Cleyra."
"Would they go?"
"Why would they not –" she stopped herself as she thought about Steiner's question. He was ever-patient with her in a conversation he did not know much history about, but he did have a significant point. These people were struggling under Kuja's soldiers, yes, but would they abandon their home just for happier times until he deemed Cleyra too big a threat again and took it over once more? Maybe continuing to exist was more resistance than she initially viewed it as.
"But I agree," Steiner decided nonchalantly. "We may be able to lead some of them to aid us, if we can survive this unsettling feeling long enough."
She shook her head. "We will not have to. Whatever is causing this unease on the wind will reveal itself soon enough, I can feel that as well. The earth cries, Steiner. Kuja is making a move."
The jet black haired man didn't doubt it. Gaia could feel many things, especially under the influence of magic, and the whole Mist Continent wreaked of it. Then again, maybe the troubling feeling they were getting was coming from Kuja's move across the continent. Say, in Treno, where Tantalus was focusing their attentions.
His stomach churned. He'd rather have the threat where he could see it and defeat it – not across country where he was no help at all.
"Is he still not back?" A new presence joined them on the porch, and both of them turned to see Eiko's shy face peeking out of the door. "He left a long time ago…" It was a rare occurrence to see the young girl so quiet; maybe the ill ease of the city wasn't so hard to detect after all if Eiko was feeling it.
Beatrix appeared behind the girl, he arms crossed. "If he endangered us in any way by getting us caught –"
"Hush," Freya murmured, suddenly stooping and gathering Steiner's things into her arms. Her ears laid back, flat against her hair so they almost blended in. "I hear movement – it is heavy… we need to get inside!"
They all scampered in to hide behind the barren walls, trying not to make a sound as they drew the curtains once more, hiding their appearance as best they could. Dagger ushered Quina inside from the backyard as quickly as she could.
Freya abandoned her bright hat on the lounging chair in the living room where all of them were huddled, holding their breath in silence. If the guards were to come, there was no saying how many would be there, and how well they could fight. Around them on all sides were mountains, besides the gate that lay too far away to reach without getting slaughtered.
The Bermecian bent low to the window, adjusting the navy curtain so one icy eye could peer out the window. It was there that she froze, not moving, and praying she could see their movements without them detecting hers.
For a long while, there was nothing.
And then suddenly, stumbling down the muddy street, footsteps heavy in the wet soil, was a lone figure. It staggered, reaching blindly for support that didn't exist. It was wrapped in a cloak, and her eyes narrowed in confusion.
Until, in the watery gleam of light, she saw a blade protruding from the figure's stomach. She knew what to search for and saw the fiery red hair underneath a strategically placed hood.
Freya was flying out the door before anyone could even ask what she saw. Her feet splashed water up onto her red cloak, soaking and muddying the bottom of it. The others ran after her, calling out to her faintly; they would get the hint soon enough.
She caught him just as he toppled over, his hood falling from his head. That's when her team began to shout, and she heard a stampede of footsteps behind her.
Questioned poured from everywhere, unsure what to do or what was going on. Who could have done this? And how had he been caught?
Marcus scaled the wall quietly, hating the eerie silence of the city around him. It had taken far longer than he had hoped to move around all of the soldiers assembling and the guards searching every crack in the metropolis for the crew.
The city that never slept shouldn't have been that quiet, and yet, here he was, listening to the sounds of his own breathing as he led his broken troupe the final stretch to escape. Padding along the grass wouldn't be nearly as difficult as navigating an entire city in secret.
His eyes rose upward, trying to find just how high the wall went. He swore it had gotten taller in the last few hours, and wondered if Kuja had created a spell for such a thing.
"Are we jumping this thing, or admiring the architecture of the city? Let's go!" Blank hissed from the end of the line. Marcus turned and shot him a sour expression; one that he returned with much gusto.
"How are we going to get up there without being spotted in the lights?" Zenero asked, watching another spotlight swoop just a story above them.
"We're going to have to time it as best we can… That's why I was hoping for a faster way than a climb," he mumbled, rubbing his pointed ear.
Vivi shifted, trying to get his own view of the tall stone wall in front of them, before slipping on his own feet, and falling off of the edge. The boys hadn't even realized what happened before he was struggling to stand on an awning below them.
"Vivi!" Blank bit his lip; Zidane would slaughter him if something happened to the little mage. "Are you okay?" He called in a grumbling whisper.
The mage nodded, clutching his hat with uncertainty. "I-I think!" As soon as he got his feet underneath him, the awning would ripple like a half-inflated inner-tube in the water, and he would fall again.
Blank's emerald eyes widened. "Marcus, I think I found a solution to your problem."
"What?" The older thief turned around, a puzzled expression sweeping over his face, until he saw the shortest thief's grin, and Vivi's position on the drooping awning. A wicked smirk smeared across his rugged face as he chuckled, tightening the bandana around his head. "You are a fiend Blank!"
The redhead grinned in smug satisfaction. "You're lucky I stuck around!"
"Both of you are lucky Vivi is so clumsy!" Zenero decided, the idea clicking in his mind as well. He snapped his fingers and grinned, his large, arched nostrils flaring with delight. "My oh my this is going to be fun!" The dog-like creature rolled his shoulders. "Please say I get to be the one to toss you all up!"
"Toss who, where?" Vivi squeaked, unsure what they were talking about, and not too delighted to know.
"We're going to fling you up onto the wall!" Marcus told him, spilling the information similar to the way someone would rip a band-aid off of their skin. Straight to the point. "You won't fly over – the wall is pretty thick, and if you start to fall, grab onto anything you can!"
Vivi remembered the last time they thought of a plan on the spot and went with it without thinking it through. "I don't think that –"
"Don't scream, little man!" Zenero hollered (a quiet holler) as he leapt onto the other side of the deflated awning, pushing down into the unstable fabric with all of his weight.
Vivi slapped two hands over his mouth when the sudden urge arose. He wasn't sure if it was a scream or nervous nausea swelling in his throat, but he didn't have long to think about it. His arms began to flail as he got above the wall, so light for the amount of force Zenero used to throw him up.
He landed heavily on the stone with an oof, the air leaving his lungs in a rush. He was jostled, but completely okay; the mage had to admit that he was surprised it ended so well. He blinked his golden eyes for just a moment, before throwing a thumbs up over the ledge of the wall.
Vivi lay there, wondering why he felt so exhausted when he should feel so alert – exposed at the top of this giant barrier. He noticed just a second too late as Blank came crashing down, literally on top of him. The air was swiped from his lungs again, and this time, he sucked in a wheezing groan.
"Woops!" Blank laughed, rolling off of him good naturedly. The redhead seemed just as surprised that this worked as the mage had been just moments ago. "Sorry! I thought you moved!" Vivi realized with rightly-placed bitterness that the thief didn't seem sorry at all.
"Heads up!" Marcus called out. Blank dove out of the way, wincing as Vivi was caught again in the crossfire of their hastened plan. The eldest leapt off of the mage far faster than the youngest had. "Vivi! I didn't see you there, buddy! You're so tiny!"
There was hardly a squeak of a response as he comically dragged himself out of the way for Zenero's landing. He suffered no long term damage, except perhaps his spirits. The other two had landed on him in strangely fortunate ways.
"How are we going to get Zenero up here?!" Blank grumbled suddenly, his brooding exterior back in full strength.
As if on cue, a shadow appeared in the open window of the building their awning was next to. Eyes widened as a man emerged, his shape distorted in the strange lighting of the city. Marcus drew his weapon, and Zenero scampered to the far side of their launcher, yanking out his own axe in defense.
"I thought you might need assistance fleeing the city!" The man called up to Blank.
Marcus' head whipped the side, alarm in his dull blue eyes. "What the fuck is he talking about?!"
The redhead stared at the man for a moment, before sudden clarification hit him. He scratched the back of his head, sheepish that it took him so long. "We would be so grateful for your help…"
"Who is that?!" Marcus demanded; Blank realized that their makeshift leader still hated not knowing inside information, just like when they were kids. All of the reminiscing he was doing lately put him in a somber mood.
"His name is Asher… He's a friend of Ruby's mother."
"Ruby's mom?!" Zenero gasped. The way the wind rushed over the wall and down into the alley, they could hear each other perfectly.
The man nodded slowly, wiping one of his dusty hands on his black armored pants. Out in the moonlight and torchlight of the bustling soldiers, the teenagers could see the ruggedness of him – scars all about his face, and eyes that gleamed with too much wisdom for one lifetime. Too much pain, and too much war. But then, all of their eyes probably glinted with that now.
"There is no more time to talk," he said, "Kuja's soldiers will have noticed the disruption this way, and they're going to come looking for you. You best be gone before they come! Are you ready, friend?!"
Zenero nodded and climbed into the awning, positioning himself as best he could.
Without another word, the mysterious man leapt, his boots scraping the pebbles on the arched windowsill. He coiled tightly into a ball, hoping to be heavy enough to heave the creature up to his teammates.
Before they could turn to thank him, he was already gone.
Marcus stared at Blank for a long moment, knowing very well they still had the challenge of getting down the wall on the other side. "You're going to have to tell us that story."
The shorter of the two only shook his head, a distant element in his unreadable expression. "I hardly even know myself. Let's get moving – the others have probably made it to the cave by now."
He brushed by his teammate and continued meandering along the wall, his shoulders slumped heavily in thought.
"Whiny little brood…" Marcus mumbled, still frustrated that the redhead never bothered to tell them anything. "Out of all Tantalus members, why'd this man have to know Blank?"
Dagger was the first to snap back to reality, the senior members of her team too furious and panicky while the others were in hysterics. She laid her hand delicately on Beatrix's shoulder, "We need to get him inside."
Her chestnut eyes seemed to come to, and she nodded, her long curls straightening as her hair clung to her chin and neck in clumps. "Of course!"
"Steiner!" the raven called out desperately, pushing her own hair behind her ears. "We must move him… Please, everyone who can, help him!" Her eyes set on Eiko, whose tears blended in with the rain, misting her turquoise eyes. "Eiko, with me, I need water, the freshest you can find, and a clean rag – rip anything up that you have to!"
She nodded and bounded away, grateful to be needed in some way. Dagger moved into the house before the group carrying their injured comrade, holding the door as the cluster of them moved past her.
They laid him on the living room floor, watching as the blood leaked down his soaked clothes and melted into the soft ground, staining it.
This was when the white mage stopped. She stared at Amarant, who was hardly even conscious, and uncertainty filled her movements. She'd never healed someone with the weapon still in them, and was unsure how to go about it.
It was Steiner who laid his hand gently against her back and nodded to her. "Just like Beatrix taught you." She remembered the brunette, helping her hone her white magic skills when she was young. Very quickly she passed Beatrix, her abilities going beyond what the knight had the capacity to learn, but the woman helped her in many other ways when training her to heal that didn't necessarily have anything to do with the magic.
She taught her how to keep her head on her shoulders, focus, and not be afraid. Even if they were in pain, and even if she couldn't heal them completely – she was still going to save them in the long run, and that's all that mattered.
"I'll cover the wound as soon as you pull out the sword," Beatrix told her, hoping that offering assistance from the side would help.
Dagger paled. She had to pull out the blade. "I just… Well it –" she stammered, sounding uncharacteristic with her interrupted flow of speech.
"You can do it, Dagger," Steiner advised; he would offer to do it for her, but knew that she needed to learn.
She stared at the sword again, fear gripping her insides. She felt the sweat build up in her already-moist gloves, and her body refused to listen to her commands. Just do it. Be brave. But she couldn't concentrate. She couldn't conjure up a spell in the whirl of her thoughts.
"I'll do it!" Freya announced, obviously uninterested in the inner workings of the girl. If Amarant was to be saved, there was no time to teach Dagger a lesson this time around.
The Bermecian's slender fingers wrapped around the blade, and pulled it out expertly. Swiftly and straight – less pain and less damage. Immediately, Beatrix's bare hands fell over the wound, though the blood pulsed through her fingers.
Dagger was already conjuring the spell, white light appearing out of thin air and attracting to the palms of her hands. Her fingers illuminated as well, and the edges of the cure spell were speckled pink, purple, and aqua – all bright colors of light and healing. She let it fall over the man who wasn't even alive enough to scream, and his shoulders seemed to relax.
She let out a sigh; it had been a large cure spell. But before she could celebrate, Beatrix was fiercely shaking her head. "I still feel it. I still feel the blood! Another, Dagger!" She insisted firmly.
The raven haired girl tried again, the light from her magic lighting up her worried features, her long lashes sweeping over a porcelain face. She bit her lip in concentration, tensing her sore shoulders.
As soon as it was finished, Beatrix demanded another.
"Something is wrong," Freya commented after the third try. "Why isn't he healing?"
The pain seemed to have ceased from the man laying limp in front of them, but the wound wasn't closing on itself. The rat-like woman snatched up the blade, examining it with steely eyes.
Dagger continued with her cures, willing with her mind and her heart that one of them might trigger the reaction she was looking for. Beatrix unconsciously pressed harder, hoping on her own accord that she could keep enough blood in his body for him to survive.
Steiner sat back; he was never good at watching these healing processes, because too many of those that he witnessed failed. He felt sick, much like he did when the fear of losing a trusted friend was so close. Amarant hadn't been around for long, but he had saved his team's lives more than once.
"The blade…" she shook her head, "It was laced with something!" With keener eyes, she confirmed her suspicions. "A powder… spell powder, if I am not mistaken… Something only Kuja could conjure, I am sure! This was no coincidence; whoever stabbed Amarant aimed for him directly, and knows he was with more of the resistance!" She shook her head, "We will be found out if we cannot get out of here soon!"
Steiner shook his head, anger boiling in his blood. They were weak and weary, unable to get enough rest in to clear their heads. This was a simple mistake – no one should have let Amarant go. He recalled the battle in Dali, when only he and a few others could stand up to an entire platoon harassing the citizens of the small village. Now, with the same number of rebels, one stab wound was taking down the entire team. They were not clear enough for battle because they had been on the move for too long. He suddenly yearned for their new home – the rooms above the trees, hidden among the golden leaves of the mysterious forest where the mages dwelled.
It was peaceful there, with familiarity and rank and organization. This whole mission was a ridiculous notion of one wounded Dreamer trying to prove himself.
"Steiner!" Dagger cried, and when he finally made eye contact with her, it seemed she'd been shouting his name for several moments. "Go with Quina! Look around the backyards for stormvine and purple lotus! He can lift the magic powder with his blue magic, but only if he can find some of these herbs!"
He nodded and rose, swiftly moving ahead of the Qu into the backyards. Quina babbled on behind him, stumbling over his description of each of them.
Now was not the time for the dramatics of his mind; no matter how foolish he really believed the mission Zidane requested was, he was part of it now, and there was no stopping it.
He would be ready for anything.
"I don't like the look of this place."
Blank was only saying what his company was thinking – even Vivi, who had only a vague memory of the cave he had led them to.
Inside was dark. But the peculiar thing about the cave, was that shadows cast across the blackness, creating even a deeper black, each longer and more angular than the rest.
"It's either we go in here, or get caught trying to run to Dali. If there's anything of that town rebuilt, I don't think the townspeople would appreciate it if Kuja's men came and burned it down again," Zenero argued his point, though the expression on his face was one of contradiction. He looked just as uncomfortable about entering the cave as his friends.
Marcus stepped forward, ignoring the two options they had before them. If the other Tantalus members had made it out, they were in that very cave; and now that they were so close, he wasn't about to deny Vivi's obvious curiosity.
The cave was moist and hot. Soon after descending into the blackness, Marcus began tugging at his clothes in uncomfortableness, and he knew from his companions' shifting that they were doing the same.
They moved forward in blindness, unsure why these shadows were showing, and how they were playing these tricks. Zenero blinked hard; he hadn't the best vision in the first place, and the strange way the dimmest of lights was playing over the rocky path made him worse off than the rest.
"Do you have any idea where to go?" Blank whispered faintly to Vivi, who clutched his hat harder than he normally did, and cowered back into himself at the slightest of sounds.
"I don't remember anything…" He whimpered back, drawing a blank on his Grandpa's dwelling.
They hadn't anything to make a torch with, and without being able to see, they weren't sure if any of those materials lingered on the ground. But it wouldn't matter, for a sudden groan echoed in the cave, and all of them jumped.
Eyes swiveled in the dark, unsure and suspicious. Weapons were drawn in an instant, and Vivi squeezed his eyes shut in fear. The sound rang out again, though fainter now, and more pathetic sounding.
"That sounds like Cinna!" Zenero gasped, staring at the silhouette of their makeshift leader in panic.
"Shh," Marcus growled, before diving to right, stopping just before the ledge swallowed him. The light soon caught the rest of his friends' eyes, and they were huddling around him, heeding his warning about the cliff side.
Through the mist of the hot springs below them, they saw the light source. A burning stick, wedged between two stones. Next to it there was a spring, three bodies with their eyes closed inside, no movement to be seen.
"Ruby! Zidane! Cinna!" Blank howled, leaping off of the side in a blind jump, his boots sliding durably along the rocks and dust.
"Something's killed them!" Zenero insisted, trying to find a suitable way to climb down, not quite as impulsive as the redhead.
"I can't believe it…" Vivi shook his head, shock clutching his tiny body. "They came here because of me."
Marcus' eyes squinted, and suddenly the shapes in the water began to move. His hazel orbs snapped to the bank of the spring and saw clothes spewn out in a few different directions, and he let out an angry snort.
They weren't dead.
They were relaxing.
"What the fuck are you guys doing?!" Cinna shrieked, as Ruby sunk lower into the water, and Zidane's head snapped up from its lounging position against the high, smooth rock behind his neck.
Blank wheeled to a stop, a baffled expression playing out across his wild, frantic features. "Wha – you guys –"
"Blank!" Ruby gasped, "Yer okay!"
He glanced at her, and her abandoned emerald skirt and white, dirtied blouse caught the corner of his eye and heat rushed to his already sweaty face. "You guys are … okay?!"
"Yeah! Why wouldn't we be?!" Cinna demanded, "Except all of your screaming scared us half to death!"
Though they couldn't see him, the redhead's green eyes flashed in anger, and the scowl deepened on his face. "We just ran for our lives, and you fuckers are lounging in a hot spring?!" He almost leapt into the water and pummeled the boys, but Zenero reached him first and held him back. "We were worried about you sons of bitches being dead, and all you are is chillin' like there's no care in the world!"
"What else were we supposed to do?" Zidane laughed, standing in the waist deep pool. "We didn't want to see what's in this cave without Vivi! And this helped pass the time!"
Blank's jaw hung almost comically as his shoulders slumped. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
"Anyways, you guys should really try it out… It's nice!" It seemed that nothing was going to deter the blonde's good nature. He rolled out his shoulders as he yanked on his pants, and moved to pile on the rest of his armor.
Zenero wandered over closer to the edge, and like lightening, before anyone could yell at him for giving in so easily, he splashed his hand in the water and sighed, as though even that subtle taste was enough to help him unwind.
"Zenero!" Blank cried, earning a smack on the back of the head from the genome.
"We don't have time to yell at him, we've got to get a move on… Come on slow pokes!"
If possible, the youngest thief's face become even more perplexed. "You're telling me to hurry up?!"
The others ignored them as they started climbing back to the top. Cinna made a dash for his clothing quickly, not wanting Ruby accusing him of anything again. Marcus and Vivi waited patiently for everyone to get back onto the path. Blank really hoped that their makeshift leader might have a choice few words for them, but he only pressed his lips into a thin line.
"Maybe we'll have to stop down there again on our way out."
"Are you kidding?!" Blank whined, but went unanswered once again, forcing him to drop it.
Zidane's mind had already wondered away from the hot springs. As soon as he climbed back up the steep slope up onto the path, it was as though he ran back into all of his troubles. He was worried about Vivi.
What if they came all this way, and he didn't find what he was looking for? His cerulean eyes shifted to the little mage, his hands wringing together, but eyes gazing forward with anticipation and a light fizzle of hope.
The genome let his eyes shut as he walked, falling further into his thoughts. He was really the only one who understood this journey, having already tried to make one himself. For Zidane, it was into the depths of Alexandria; he had to find Elouise, Vienna, Griffon, and Avalanche – he had to know if his close friends were actually alive. He knew that his place belonged amongst the resistance, but he had spent a great amount of time with the four of them in the five years he was in the dream Alexandria.
As for Vivi, Zidane summed up almost all of the kindness he ever received in the fake world. He now made the journey, for but opposite reasons. The blonde had easily fallen back into his past, conveniently stumbling upon the people he was bound to meet had he never been abducted. But Vivi had lost his grandfather, and other than the small facts Quan had given him in the marsh, he had absolutely no clues about his past, besides the fuzzy flashbacks he very rarely got.
The dreamer hoped that his young friend would find answers to give him a peace of mind. He couldn't imagine what he would feel like without connections to his past – still probably just as lost as he'd felt when he first woke up. But if nothing else, he was happy he had that quick encounter with Vivi – almost like fate – in the Dream World that night, because that gave the black mage someone to lean on.
A ghost of a smile flitted over Zidane's lips. It was an honor helping someone so powerful, even if he didn't quite know it yet. If this was the last thing he did before Kuja killed him, he could die happy.
Not the last thing.
The way his thoughts rang out like that surprised him, and he opened his eyes and swept his gaze across the company in front of him, wondering if someone perhaps had spoken. But no one stared at him expectantly, so he decided it was indeed his own thought.
And then it hit him in the face like a bag of bricks.
Dagger.
If Zidane was being honest with himself, he still questioned his decision to tell her to let him go. Blank's words echoed in his mind, backing his friend on the surface, but the undertone told Zidane now that he thought about it, that the redhead expected a mending in their relationship.
He crossed his arms over his chest as he shuffled along, feeling the slight limp in his walk, but unable to help it. He wondered vaguely if other people saw it, or if he played it off nicely. His lips puckered as he remembered the impending doom he felt walking into the street with no cover that night in Terra.
He thought about the way he had written Dagger and the things he had said to her. He told her he loved her in that letter. Why was he willing to die then, imparting with those words on his mind, while he pushed her away in the face of a longer danger?
The blonde almost rolled his eyes.
He wanted to see her again before he died. Even though he had told her those things, and thought it for the better… Who was he kidding?
Dying before he saw her one last time would be the worst thing.
A/N: So something I was wondering in this chapter that maybe my readers could give me input on?
I understand, over the last five (almost six now! Man this story has been so long coming!) years, that my writing style has changed and improved, as I've gotten older, and even as I've learned better how to write. But what I'm wondering is: do I focus on their thoughts too much? Or is there still a nice balance of concrete detail/physical actions and what's going on in their heads?
Let me know what you think about that! And if there isn't enough of what they're doing in the present, physical world because they're pondering too much in their mind, I'll definitely try to change it a little! :D
Thank you – whoever is still out there – for all of the support you give me in even just continuing to read!
-zesty-
