Grey Matter
Chapter One
The Immediate Aftermath.
Mikoto had a photographic memory.
In May of 1800, after Garnet had resigned to stay in Alexandria to focus on the throne, she used her power as queen to exalt her friends - the Heroes of Prevailing Peace - to a new committee given only two formidable tasks: find Zidane and become the sole scribes of the events that sent Gaia into the most unknown and questionable dark times it had ever seen. Never before had the population across the globe been so shaken and united in their grief and uncertainty. In just under three months, the nations had been brought to their knees and, still, people had questions. Queen Garnet til Alexandros XVII felt it was only fitting that she and her friends provided those answers. On their time, of course. Nothing took precedence over finding the makeshift leader. After all, he was the answer. In Garnet's mind, he was the reason for the newfound free world. And to all his friends, he was the unity - the glue - that kept their lives from falling asunder.
By late June, convened in the Black Mage Village, where the air was still dry and dusty from the collapse of the Iifa Tree, the committee decided to call themselves the Core Works. At the helm of the committee was Vivi, whom all the surviving Genomes looked up to. His right hand was none other than Captain Steiner, who had enrolled himself in the Treno Alchemy School of Medicine. Playing smaller roles were the variety of Black Mages and Genomes who, day by day, were awakening to their independence as if it were the first time they had ever opened their eyes. But there was a member of the Core Works who became much more valuable than first assumed: Mikoto. The day she understood she controlled her own muscles, that she was her own person, was the day she remembered everything. From the moment the damp and misty pod had opened down to the very second she watched Garland's iron mask crack, it all came rushing back to her. The Core Works hit milestone after milestone in the summer of 1800 when the fevered trances came over Mikoto, leading her to pages of parchments and hurried scribbles. It was there, in Vivi's sloped little hut, they watched Mikoto recount every single word Garland had ever written and recorded of Terra's ascent and inner workings.
LOG 0005. Everything they have entrusted me to do, filled me with the knowledge to complete, has gone horribly wrong. The setback is unmeasurable, but still I persist. I was not made perfect - they are not perfect. I would not exist if they were without fault. I have blueprints and plans. I will continue to use them. But they must be patient. They are motionless and I am alone. That makes this easier.
LOG 3841. The soul divider is complete at last. The Iifa Tree has reached its true potential. Something still lacks, however. Process is slow. How long will they lay dormant and entrust me? The vines must go deeper and tangle tightly. I must thwart any Gaian's plan of lasting civilization. Perhaps, after some thought, the Iifa Tree's potential is still unrecognized. The soul divider must be the answer. I shall consult the bio lab they have left to me to assess.
LOG 5988. Time is a precious commodity, but one I must sacrifice, always. Patience is key, even when undertaking the most monumental of tasks. The Iifa Tree continues to operate at full capacity and the soul divider has become its agent. How beautiful it is to see the cells you have spliced and multiplied work in a harmony that serves only you and puzzles everyone else. It is my sole purpose. It makes me hungry for more. Perhaps that is why they created me and why I create for them. Life truly is a full circle. But I will now make it a sphere.
LOG 7832. The bio lab is at capacity and I have begun what they have labeled as Phase III. I remain confident in the foundational progress I made in the last two phases, despite moments of uncertainty. What an interesting phenomena it is to have two distinctly different souls in your palms. It does not trouble me that I have no concept of my own. The Terran's souls are self-contained, primarily blue and purple in nature. The Gaian's are unstable and vibrate with an intensity I do not understand. I cannot have a repeat of what happened at my origin. They will not stand for it. I cannot live for it.
LOG 8921. They do not move much, still. Their vocabulary is limited and their eyes only flicker with the recognition of my bio-technical connection. My lab results vary greatly from previous logs, but I still do not worry too greatly. The construction of souls is of trial and errors, no matter if it is replication or exploration. Answers still come to me, even after centuries. Did they create me with the ability to make observations and connections? One would think I'd be equipped, given their circumstances. No soul will ever be perfect - the Gaian's continue to prove that after their countless errors and internal bloodshed. But I welcome their mistakes. Not mine.
Each one of Mikoto's sudden onset of trance presented a random log, fragmented across the thousands Garland had left behind. Piecing them together in order was a monumental task, on top of having to decipher what they were referencing. Though Mikoto's photographic memory was able to procure this invaluable information, once she emerged again as herself, dazed and fevered, she only knew as much as her puzzled friends who constructed murder boards across walls connected with frizzy red string. They, Freya had decided, were the Terran's. Garland was their creation. He was not to be feared, he was only a puppet. A puppet, Mikoto realized, that I was secondary to. As the logs continued to pile in, sometimes multiple times a day, an old familiar friend was called upon; one who had retired and moved somewhere remote in the aftermath of the free world - Doctor Tot. By late 1800, he was a graying, elderly owl-man, who seemed to have been aged greatly by the Spring Plight of Gaia. With so much of his mind committed to the treacherous puzzle that was Gaia's shaking and his heart on the hook for the young people he loved taking the front line, Doctor Tot chose to leave his complex logics behind in favor of a life of fine literature and potion-making - a past time he loved but never threw himself fully into. Guilty, Steiner had noted after returning from a visit to Tot's new cabin along a cliffs edge. He doesn't believe he worked hard enough for Zidane. That he didn't put enough thought into it.
But still, in November of that year, Doctor Tot surprised everyone when he arrived by a chartered airship. There had been a cold snap just two days before and everyone in the village was bundled up tightly. Flurries of sleet swirled by in the wind as Mikoto and Steiner held a wool blanket over Doctor Tot and guided him to the inn. You're lucky I always pack tweed coats, he proclaimed in his good nature, adjusting the brim of his dapper top hat. As Doctor Tot sought out the necessary books throughout the village, Freya and Vivi tied Mikoto's writings in string for him to look at. They couldn't be sure they were even in the right order. But they held out hope that Doctor Tot's fresh eyes would help bridge them to another breakthrough. Their old friend was kind and proper, never faltering, when they brought the informal stacks of Mikoto's jagged writing. He would have preferred it transcribed, but instead he only asked for a cup of tea with a sugar cube so he could begin.
He worked for hours before stopping to take a short break. He wandered outside where the wind had died down but there was a nip in the air. The forest was very still around them. All that could be heard was the bubbling of the small creek rushing by, accompanied by the frogs that lived there. Doctor Tot cleared his throat as he peered up at the darkening sky. It should have felt like a more monumental moment as a historian. He was standing on the Outer Continent. But it was tainted by the fragmentation he perceived of the world he lived in now. Gaia had lost so much in the name of greed and power on a scale he never thought he'd live to witness. Compounded by a crisis on a universal scale, Doctor Tot wouldn't believe it if he read it. Some days, he just wanted to forget about the studies he devoted his life to. Maybe it would be easier to just not know. It would be a disservice, though, he knew that. He had to help, somehow, and this is what he was best at. But gods, he didn't want to carry that knowledge on with him.
"Doctor Tot," Freya's voice was even and warm as she came around the corner. "Can I get you anything?"
"Another kettle for my room would be nice," Doctor Tot tilted his bifocals towards her.
"Of course, I'll let Mikoto know," she turned to leave but paused just a few steps later. "Do you - "
He was already looking at her when she turned back around. "There's so much about the Iifa Tree in these writings. Have any of you been back since...?"
Freya tugged at the cuffs of her gray woolen coat. "Not since spring, no."
Doctor Tot withdrew a dark chestnut pipe from his coat and looked towards the creek that glowed in the rays of sunset. "I would like to honor Queen Garnet's wishes," he said, checking his tobacco leaves were finely packed. "I will certainly aid in being a scribe for what has happened. But one of the other tasks can be completed much quicker. You have to find him. We need his story first."
The dragoon's face stayed composed as she peered at him, her ashen hair falling around the frame of her face. "You're saying... we need to find his body?"
"Zidane is your friend, yes?" Doctor Tot nodded his head as he deftly ran a match up a wooden beam post. "We must do what's right, no matter what we fear the outcome is. You know that. It's your code."
"Maybe it's just me, but those kinds of words... they mean something different now."
He chuckled as he took a puff from his pipe. "I understand, sweet Freya. All too well."
Doctor Tot spent another week taking over the inn as his newfound study hall, from top to bottom. He had his own time line to sort out and that included his knowledge of the formation of their universe. He had several books to guide him in the right direction that he referred to tirelessly, resistant to make a mistake in such a tedious study. He found makeshift items to stand in as planets as he constructed a moving physical account of the planets formations through the eons. The clerk at the inn never lost interest in watching the historian study. Endless rolls of parchment ran in all directions as Doctor Tot paced and wrote down a collection of thoughts in brisk increments. And while he worked, still the Heroes of Prevailing Peace stayed at the village to monitor Mikoto and quietly share their thoughts without revealing their fears.
After an intense 16 hour study session, Doctor Tot noticed, as he adjusted the planets in his model, that there was a planet near Gaia he hadn't quite put a name to. He plopped back down into the cushioned arm chair in the lobby, furiously flipping through a book. No mention. Nothing that could have been it. He closed the book silently, already feeling the headache come on. It was all too much, he was overwhelmed. Doctor Tot decided to take a few days off and requested Steiner take him to see the forest and the beach. Bring binoculars. I'd like to see Madain Sari. He figured a little sight seeing could help put him back in the mind frame to keep up his studies. Nature was rejuvenating to an extent. But it soon began to make him feel guilty because he wasn't working.
When the time of Yule came around, the ground of the Outer Continent was sprinkled in a fine layer of snow. Doctor Tot didn't know what to make of the weather, he had already tested to see if it was ash. Garnet sent a letter by owl, however, wishing everyone well and asking how things were. Every note she sent to them always extended the invitation to come to Alexandria for reprieve. For Steiner, those invitations always made him glum. He missed Alexandria and he missed Beatrix, too. Steiner felt like he had a lot of his own unsettled business there, but for his Queen, he was willing to take a hard bargain. While Doctor Tot amused the Genomes and Black Mages with old folklore while balancing candles on tree branches, Steiner found himself sitting on the edge of the pier, watching a frog croak. Slender legs stretched out beside him and Freya's white hair glowed in the wintry full moon.
"He stayed longer than I imagined he would," she said, pressing her long fingers to the edge of the boards.
Steiner was leaned forward, his elbows against his knees. "Yes, well, Doctor Tot is a man of integrity. He's obligated to be here, like us."
"It's been six weeks since Doctor Tot recommended we go back to the Iifa Tree."
"Samples are a waste of time. This is a historical review, not a science experiment."
"Don't act like you don't understand what he meant," her voice sounded hollow and lonely at the thought. "It's been nine months."
"That's not the intention of this committee," Steiner was trying his best to not sound exasperated.
Freya sat up straight and sighed. "I think we all have a different interpretation of what it means to find Zidane."
"And I have to tell Her Majesty?"
"Do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering?" Freya's brow knitted together. "I had to think about it a long time, also, Steiner. But Doctor Tot is right. We need his story, too. Not just this one."
"Guys!" Vivi burst out from the flickering light of a nearby torch. A piece of parchment wavered in his hands as he came up behind them. "Read this. It's what Mikoto just wrote."
LOG 118294. I follow logs and codes to a T. I am a man of science. It is what I was created to do. The Gaian's souls are most offensive and unwilling to react with Terran souls in a variety of ways. No proper balance found yet. Now he has been deemed Kuja - the Terran word for Wayward. I believe him to be key in helping this process exceed speed to make up for time lost. His soul is unstable of sort, but he speaks eloquently and personality was spared in culmination. I do not find him charming nor a threat, he should be favorable to most Gaian's. He is the prototype of a new Genome, one I believe would greatly benefit the Terran's. Synthesizing is a tedious project, but I am confident at the outlook projected for Phase IV.
It wasn't until the first day of 1801 that Freya, Steiner, Vivi, and Mikoto set out by foot to make the anxious trek for the Iifa Tree. It still wasn't quite warm and as they ventured across the sloping plains of the Outer Continent, they were met with a brisk wind. They remembered a year ago, when they could look over the mountain range and see the unbelievable tree towering overhead. In some ways, it had been beautiful. But now it was only the testimony to vanity. Something so monstrously beautiful, it made you nauseous. What used to be a natural wonder was nothing but a marred scar across each of their psyches. Mikoto wanted to stop by Conde Petie for more tea for Doctor Tot. Steiner decided he wanted a coffee if they went that direction. Vivi had some friends he wanted to visit. Freya just wanted to get out of the cold. She grew up beneath clouds that never stopped raining, she could deal with being soaked. Burmecian clothes were adaptations of making that simple enough. But she could not stand being cold. Deep inside, they all shared a silent avoidance as they turned in the direction of the village.
Rally Ho's and Happy New Year's were tossed around like a massive echo chamber two seconds apart. The dwarves appeared to be in good spirits and as Freya slowly strolled the small settlement, crossing the arched bridge, she noticed some of the inhabitants decorating the boat in anticipation of a wedding. She recalled Zidane joking about the entire ordeal one evening when they had gone for a drink in Lindblum. Said he couldn't believe she agreed to do it, even if it was just a sham. Freya knew that somewhere deep down inside, it had mattered to him. Her mind was all scrambled from her head being deep in those logs for months. Garland's words flowing out of Mikoto's fingertips, it all felt so steely and artificial. There was no cadence to how Garland spoke or described his creations and scientific advancements. Everything about Terran's and the Genomes felt so fake and lonely. How could, from all of that, a boy such as Zidane emerge? She felt a shiver come over her as she watched the women drape a silk sheet over the stairs.
Zidane wasn't the prototype. He was the perfection.
"'Scuse me, missy, cart full 'f warm rags."
Freya was zapped from her thoughts, looking over her shoulder to see a stout dwarf, a mess of brown locks falling around her thick neck. The dragoon blinked rapidly and then stepped soundlessly out of the way. "That's a lot of warm blankets," she said as the creaky and rumbly cart began forward again. "No furnaces or fireplaces?"
"We've got 'ah vist'ah," she grinned, bearing pointy yellow teeth. "Found the poor lad bleedin' out like he fell from the 'eavens."
Freya stopped breathing, watching as the woman continued on with her warm blankets. After a beat, she followed her. Two lefts and a right were made before she appeared at a narrow hallway, devoid of railings as it dangled precariously off the arrangement of stacked stone blocks for buildings. She hoisted the blankets into her arms and cast Freya a friendly grin as she began down the stairs, into a room warm carved in the shape of a circle. The center of the room was sunken in, set before a vast fireplace brimming with flames. Where the floor dipped, there was a massive amount of blankets and pillows already. And resting on that pile of warm textiles was a face that Freya recognized. She thought she might fall down the rest of the stairs. Even though the face was riddled with scars, black and blue, swollen, and sore, the dragoon knew instantly.
It was Zidane, within an inch of his life.
The dwarves were rather insistent about keeping him, spouting their claims of tobacco therapy and flower ointments to be soothing for him physically and spiritually. Even Steiner was hesitant because of Zidane's condition. He was wrapped up tightly where his right shoulder had been violently dislocated. The dwarves had surprisingly good needlework where they had patched various parts of his stomach, neck, chest, and back together. He would heal up to look like a doll mistreated by its owner, Freya was sure, as she gently assessed Zidane's tired, limp body. He was running a high fever and Freya knew he'd need the aspirin they had back at Black Mage Village. They had to risk it. He needed to be washed and sheltered with people he knew. That, she argued, was the best spiritual outlook.
It was a hasty and daring dash back to Black Mage Village with Zidane secured against a wooden plank. They lost daylight quickly and Vivi held a fireball above his head the entire way and never stopped running. Everyone was operating purely on adrenaline. By gods they had him. But now, they had to save him. The village went up in a frenzy when they arrived back, shouting for blankets, pillows, warm tea, hot water, bars of soap, and medicine. Everyone scrambled, whether they realized who Zidane was or not. Doctor Tot watched the commotion through the window from his desk, watching Zidane's beaten, broken face bob past him. The text in front of him, Garland's words, suddenly became utterly disgusting. Doctor Tot looked at the scribbles in front of him, absolutely motionless. To know these origins, to understand Zidane in a different way... Well, frankly, Doctor Tot didn't want to. He admired the young man and the sight he had just seen was enough to make his heart crumble and his blood pressure rise. What a waste it would be if he died now. A waste of centuries. A waste of suffering. A waste of love.
Yes, people loved that boy. So what difference did these documents make? The clerk at the desk was startled when Doctor Tot stood abruptly and discarded his book on the ground. The elderly owl was not one for fits of rage or rashness.
When spring began to break through just four days later, it was a relief to open the shutters to get fresh air and fresh light. Freya had spent that morning with her sleeves rolled, sitting on the edge of Zidane's bed while applying ointment to his scabs and swelling had come down overnight with constant fresh cool rags. Mikoto had handled the night shift. Zidane wasn't left alone for a moment - they never left a thing to chance anymore. Outside, creatures and bugs croaked and buzzed in anticipation of the warming weather. Freya paused from her task, tilting her face towards the sun beams coming in through the cracks of the ceiling. No one had told a soul outside of Black Mage Village. No letter to Garnet or Eiko, Blank or Beatrix. You'd better make damn sure, Freya had warned when Steiner had brought it up. We have to be one hundred percent certain he's going to live.
When Freya opened her cool blue eyes and looked down at him, she couldn't imagine him dying in that moment. His injuries were severe, but someone as young and healthy as him could recover. There was no significant damage to his legs. His shoulder would probably always have a tweak to it, but it was better to have his life. At least, that's what the dragoon reasoned. She gently pushed some jagged blond hair from his bold brow. As she gazed down on her childhood friend, she didn't know what to expect. What had he been through? What had he seen? Freya tilted her head as her eyes traced the long cuts marring his bruised skin. Did he make the right call? Was this worth it? Stupid idiot, Freya wanted to say as she pulled the covers down to medicate his scars. You could have come back. Could have made something of yourself. All you did was sacrifice yourself. And for who? For me? I didn't ask you to. She ground her teeth together as she mashed the cotton ball into the jar of cream. His chest was a transcendence of blues, blacks, purples, and greens. Every time he would take his shirt off, he would look like someone who had been pieced together from fragments. He wasn't the world's leftovers, though. That's when hot tears pricked her eyes as she gazed down at him. He was so much more than the scraps. He was her friend. One of her best friend's. Zidane was one of the only people she trusted her life with. And now, his was in hers.
"Oh, you are a stupid idiot," Freya finally said, blinking her tears away. "I never thought you were capable of something this stupid." When she went to set the jar of cream on the night table, she realized Doctor Tot standing near the door. "How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to hear you call Zidane a stupid idiot," he was smiling despite this and it actually reached his eyes. Doctor Tot looked relieved. That brought a bit of peace to Freya.
She laughed sheepishly as she began to turn Zidane on his side. "I shouldn't be lashing out at him. It... already looks like he took ten thousand of those..." her voice trailed off.
"It's a miracle he's alive," Doctor Tot came further into the room now.
"I don't think we're completely out of the woods yet," Freya reached for the jar again. "He's at a severe risk for infection."
"With a field medic of your caliber, I feel at ease, sweet Freya."
"If he would just wake up, this would be easier," she kept her eyes cast down as she dabbed the cotton ball against the ointment. "His fever broke at least." Freya pressed the cool medicine against his warm skin. "I suppose you're relieved, though, Doctor Tot. Historians of your caliber like a nice, filled out story, brimming with details to be learned from."
His eyes didn't break away from Zidane. He didn't flinch at her words. "It shouldn't feel hurtful to hear. That's exactly what I dedicated my life to - pondering the wonders of our existence. Getting lost in thought, losing a sense of my surroundings, just to think about something that challenged me. I don't know why I wanted to be challenged in that way, Freya. It does not serve me any longer. It harms me now."
The dragoon paused and looked to him. "I watched my own people be killed and clung to rumors I knew weren't real of people being alive and well. That hurts me. But this... all of this. Well, I think that was it, Doctor Tot," Freya swallowed roughly. "I think it's broken me."
"You're not broken," Doctor Tot's voice was assured. "Damaged, sure. But you don't break, Freya."
"Yes," she replied lightly. "I can't be afforded a luxury such as that."
Freya continued with her task as Doctor Tot stood quietly beside her. He could only hope he was exuding solidarity towards the overwhelmed young lady. He seemed to lack very many good natured words to speak nowadays. His eyes followed her movement as she treated Zidane's wounds and as she turned him further over, Doctor Tot stepped in closer to take a look. "What is that?"
"What?" Freya furrowed her brow and turned her head as she looked at Zidane's back.
"Look at this scar. It's not old at all, but it's completely healed, unlike the rest."
"You're right," she leaned further over him. "Look, it makes a whole circle. And - oh, there's another circle intersecting it." They were both quiet. For a moment, it was as if Freya had been electrocuted by the sheer passing of time. She could smell the old dust and droplets of mildew. She heard the grinding of stone and undertone of old ancient technology buzzing. "I've seen this before - with Zidane and Steiner. At Oelivert."
Doctor Tot's feathers gently grazed Zidane's skin. It was the unnamed planet. "What is this supposed to be?"
"Gaia and Terra," Freya's eyes did not leave the scar. "Just before they fused."
On January 15th, 1801, Queen Garnet turned seventeen years old. Steiner spent the evening perched on a hill near the village, staring at the sky as if he would be able to see the celebratory fireworks from there. The committee had sent a hand signed card and Mikoto made her a collage of pressed flowers from the forest. There was still no mention of their refugee. Every day, his skin got a bit more pink and his scars a bit less red. But still, he slept deeply, locked away in the confines of his frazzled, overwhelmed mind. Steiner only hoped he wasn't in a maze of endless fevered dreams with no escape. With Zidane at Black Mage Village, the captain felt far more anxious than he had during the course of the previous summer. Steiner chalked a lot of the nervousness up to simply being homesick. The letters from Beatrix only relieved that momentarily, after the first read and whiff of her perfume. He wanted to be in Alexandria. He wanted to see the fireworks. When he agreed to be part of the Core Works, he had no idea it would be this hard. His life felt like it was in a state of pause. For exactly one year, Steiner had been wrapped up in things much bigger than him. Sometimes that scared him. Other times, it humbled him. But his faith was shattered - in the world and himself. He knew the next time his head hit a familiar pillow or he smelled the sweet scent of Alexandrian honeysuckles, he wouldn't take them for granted.
By late spring, Doctor Tot had dismantled his study and packed his belongings, having the Black Mages stack the trunks in the clearing in the center of the village. No one asked the specifics of his departure or inquired about his plans. It seemed everyone had an inkling of each other. While they took chance very seriously, they let what could be remained unsaid utterly that way. Doctor Tot went around the village to extend his gratitude to everyone for his accommodations, his fruitful research, his meals, and his well brewed teas. He made no mention of it being a pleasure. As Vivi, Freya, Mikoto, and Steiner walked him to his ship, Doctor Tot seemed aged once again by what he had endured.
"Doctor Tot," Mikoto's light voice rang out as they walked beneath a canopy of leaves. "What of the logs? What should we do with them?"
"My dear Mikoto, I mean this with the utmost respect," he replied, dipping his cap beneath a low hanging branch. "But they should be destroyed."
"You spent so much time on them," Vivi said. "We can't just get rid of them."
"I beg of you, Master Vivi, to do just that."
As they emerged from the forest, the four of them slowed, watching their old friend pace forward, towards a ship ready to zoom away from everyone's inner ruminations. Freya felt her hands curl shut.
"You're violating a tenet of the committee, Doctor Tot. We'd all love to get on with it, but we have a job. For all of Gaia."
"In my professional opinion, it's unnecessary. These logs would only cause a panic. Gaia is rife with issues. This will only contribute."
"But, Zidane..." Mikoto began.
"He only needs to be healthy. Sever the link, Mikoto. Garland does not own you or Zidane any longer."
"We appreciate your assistance, Doctor Tot," Steiner said.
"And I for your service," he nodded his head. "Make him well, destroy the logs, and go home. All of you. Please."
Doctor Tot departed, leaving an uncharacteristic bad omen in his wake.