At first Edgar had been reluctant to take the title of Empire for his nation, but his trusty court alchemist had advised it. L'sith had proven valuable beyond belief, from his new Chocobo breeding program to his special sleeping elixirs.
It had been hard for Edgar to sleep following the death of Kefka. He was haunted be images of his father questioning his every move, judging him, challenging him. But L'sith cured that.
The Air Force of Figaro was growing. The recessive Black Chocobo gene had been reintroduced into one flock, and soon they would be ready to take to the sky. The infantry was the best equipped in the world, with state of the art crossbows and biological weapons.
It had been L'sith's idea to strengthen the military, and Edgar saw its value. With the death of Kefka and the end of the Empire, there would be a need for strength, a guiding hand for the world.
Edgar intended to fill that role. And so his Figaro Protectionists marched towards the city of Jidoor, hoping to make it safer for everyone. And Edgar himself stayed in the castle, designing L'sith's great invention. Soon, with the refinements under way, Figaro would have its own Light of Judgment.
L'sith entered Edgar's chambers. "Are the designs for the weapon complete, your majesty?"
"Almost, L'sith. I have finished the fundamental layout, but the more complicated inner workings are not yet done." L'sith walked to Edgar's side and looked down.
"I have a new potion, your majesty. Drink it, and the dreams will be gone forever."
Edgar took the potion and drank it. And then all began to fall apart.
***
"It is done!" screamed Edgar, his eyes red with lack of sleep, and his face gray and aged. He looked five years older, and he hadn't slept for a week. But he was done!
"We will test the Light of Judgement upon Cyan! He has defied me too long!" Edgar walked towards the control pannel.
"But your Majesty, Cyan has done nothing!" warned the Chancellor.
"Traitor! Deal with him!" Two massive robots, made from the Jidooran Imp Robot design, marched in and grabbed the Chancellor. His death was quick and bloody.
And Edgar fired.
***
"Oh Dark Holy One, I feel your strength! I have brought the human under your control. I have turned his army to your fell purpose. How may I further serve you?" L'sith grovelled before the shadowy figure.
"We have tapped into the ultimate power, child. The Prime Evil that has fed our predeccessors. It will make us invincible. Taste of it." Crimson light flooded into the the room, and poured into L'sith.
"Oh, master! I feel it! I feel..." In a flash of light L'sith turned into a pile of ashes.
"You were too weak. Now I myself will do what must be done." And Livouf Takar, the Dark One, came to Earth.
"Everybody, quickly! We must hide! I am going to see if I can deal with this King Edgar, myself!" Tucker stood up and left the inn with Setzer.
Tucker stood outside of town and watched as the helpless people were slaughtered. He knew he had to take action now. He pulled out a small device and plugged in a few coordinates.
"DAMN! I only have enough energy for one jump. This carnage, however, must end!" Tucker pressed a button on the pad and he and Setzer vanished.
* * *
They appeared in front of a castle, surrounded by deserts. Tucker looked at the pad he held in his hand and crushed it on the ground, useless. Turning to Setzer, he said, "I'm going in." Then he pulled out his grappling arm and fired it at the height of the castle. He easily scaled its walls and soon was inside the castle. Easily evading any patrols with the help of his cloaking field, he soon was inside a throne room.
He watched as the king sentenced his own chancellor to death.
This man is possesed by evil... I can tell, thought Tucker. I must stop him...
"You are evil, King of Figaro! You must die for what you have done!" Tucker 'de-cloaked' and pulled his own sword. The two began circling each other.
At one time, Edgar could have defeated Tucker in a moment's notice. But deprived of sleep, food, and combat, Edgar didn't stand a chance. His AuraLance was knocked from his grasp, and he was pinned to the ground, sword at his neck. "Kill me, boy. I am prepared to die."
Tucker raised the sword for the death blow, when a massive steel fist struck him from behind. He sailed across the room into a wall.
The two Robots of Figaro advanced on the unconscious warrior as he moaned in pain.
"Edgar, I know of who you really are and what you have become. The books in the future admired the evil in you was god. I don't. You used to be a good man. What have you become now? Think about what you are doing. Think about your friends, but more importantly, think about your brother and what your parents would've wanted you to do." Tucker slowly retreated as the two robots approached.
Tucker removed a vial from a pouch and threw it at one of the robots, who began to sizzle.
"Not acid-proof, eh?" The two, however, continued their advance.
"Not today, my metal friends, not today." He attached a small canister to his grappling arm and fired it at the two robots. It enlarged and became a metal net which encompasses the two and began an electrical charge.
He turned to run but the main gate doors opened and a woman came walking in. He heard the blast of weapon fire as the two robots attempted to kill Tucker. He glanced back and watched as crossbow darts flew at him. Damn robots, he thought. He looked forward at the shocked woman who was unsheathing her sword to attack.
"Not now, lady! I don't think the king wants to be disturbed!" Tucker made a flying leap at her, knocked her out of the room, and closed the door behind him.
The antechamber was empty. Good. He looked at the woman, who was preparing an attack stance. He walked over to the door and placed a wooden board across it to lock it temporarily.
He turned to the woman and said, "Now is not a good time to talk." He backed away from the woman and broke into a run.
As she watched, the metal figures lashed out with some sort of beams, narrowly missing the warrior. She reacted without thinking, snapping up her autocrossbow and firing a hail of bolts. They sped by the warrior, striking the armored figures caught beneath the net. Most bounced right off the gleaming metal, but a single bolt flew right into the firing port of one of the figures, causing an explosion that blew off the figure's arm. It crashed into the other figure, sending both falling to the ground.
The warrior continued to run at her, and it was only then that she realized that he might be the one responsible for the man lying on the floor. She dropped the empty autocrossbow and drew her sword, preparing to block his escape. She didn't want to injure or kill the warrior, just detain him long enough for guards to arrive.
"Not now, lady! I don't think the king wants to be disturbed," the warrior shouted at her. Keyla hesitated for a moment, then was totally taken by surprise as the warrior dove at her. She raised her sword to parry the desperate attack. The blades collided with a clang, then crackling blue electricity danced around them and shot down into her arm.
The warrior's momentum and the electrical shock carried her into the antechamber, leaving her in a daze on the ground. The warrior closed and barred the throne room door as she struggled to her feet, trying to shake off the effects of the electrical stun. He said something, then turned and ran for the exit to the antechamber.
Keyla ran after him, managing to keep up until he vanished into thin air. She stopped, surprised, then realized that she could still hear his footsteps on the flagstones. She drew a knife with her left hand, carefully gauging where the warrior's knees were. Just as she pulled her arm back to throw, her concentration was interrupted by a massive crash as a metal fist punched a hole in the throne room door. She sighed and returned the knife to its sheath.
The door opened and King Edgar walked out, flanked by the armored figures. He looked extremely displeased; in fact, Keyla couldn't remember the last time she had seen him look so angry. She cringed when she saw the missing arm on the wounded figure, then noticed the wires protruding from the shoulder. Just a machine, she thought, sighing in relief.
"Your majesty," she said, kneeling. "I am sorry, but I was unable to capture the intruder. I also apologize for damaging your guardian, but I misinterpreted the situation." The king didn't say anything, and her surprise at this was quickly ended by the sound of footsteps behind her. She looked back to see a man with long white hair and wearing a long leather coat standing at the entrance to the antechamber.
And then they were elsewhere.
****************************
Setzer sighed. He was waiting for Tucker to come back from his little sneaky expedition into Figaro Castle, but he had heard no word. He shook his head, laying down another three cards onto the sand.
****************************
"Fine. That's it! I'm going inside." Setzer swore. What had taken him so long? He glanced up toward the sky and noted a rather large bird starting to fly away from the castle. 'Chocobos?' wondered Setzer as he walked toward the front gate of Figaro Castle.
The guard scowled at him through his helmet. Setzer smiled dashingly, combing fingers through his long, white hair distractedly. "Hello. I'm here to see Edgar. I'm Setzer."
The guard blinked, then promptly drew himself to attention. "Ah! Of course, sir! Go right in! The King would be happy to see you." His lips twitched into just the faintest smile. An apology, decided Setzer.
Setzer nodded his thanks to the guard and strode purposfully through the doors, moving through the familiar corridors toward the throne room. He smiled briefly and winked at a nearby servant girl as he walked. She stared at him with unrelenting horror for a brief moment, then fled through the corridors away from him.
Setzer was confused. "What was that all about?" he sighed. Figaro Castle was changing more and more. Why had Edgar sent his troops in to Jidoor? After all, it was hardly a military installation, and Edgar had never seemed the type to make a decision like that. Maybe he learned of some new monsters that had been ravaging the area, or... of course! Edgar had tried to rescue him while he had been captured and... he shivered suddenly.
Setzer shook his head. "When is he going to figure out that I can take care of myself?" he asked rhetorically, summoning more than a few odd glances his way. Setzer grinned, reaching out for the doors of the throne room. This is going to be fun.
The doors flew open. Setzer stared in shock at the battle being waged inside. 'Fun?' he thought as he felt a sharp twinge of dread in the bottom of his stomach. 'No, anything but...'
"STOP!" shouted Edgar. Everyone froze. "This battle is between me, and him!" Edgar pointed at Tucker. "If I win, he and the King of Baron<sneer>, will stay in my dungeon until I decide what to do with them. If he wins, you may both leave."
Cecil stepped back and handed Tucker his sword. Keyla stared at the King wondering if he had gone insane. The guards merely withdrew. "Well, boy. Will you fight the Sovereign of the World?" Edgar laughed.
"You must be stopped, tyrant."
Edgar laughed again. "Ha. Fight, boy." Edgar stepped back and began to mumble. "Oh Dark Lord, give me the strength to overcome." Keyla, Cecil, and Tucker watched in shock as Edgar's cape turned black, his eyes red. He then raised his hands, and in them was an obsidian sword.
"Fight me boy!" shouted Edgar, with renewed vigor. He seemed stronger, somehow, and younger. But a feel of evil filled the room.
Tucker swung at Edgar with a perfect, lethal stroke, but Edgar parried with ease. He brought his sword pommel into Tucker's face, crushing his nose. Blood splashed to the floor.
"Come now. Can't you beat the 'Tyrant' of Figaro?" Edgar slashed into Tucker's stomach, hitting with the broad side of the blade. He then brought the pommel down hard onto Tucker's spine. A cracking sound filled the room.
Edgar pulled Tucker up by the hair and carved a hideous rune into his face, then threw the limp body into a wall. He kicked the fallen warrior twice in the ribs, then stomped on his left knee. Bone was crushed, marrow torn, flesh bruised.
"GET UP!" hissed the Dark King. He laughed then turned towards Cecil. "Well, King? Would you like to duel against my Dark Blade?" He laughed insanely, then motioned for the guards to take him to the dungeons.
* * *
In the darkness of the dungeon, Tucker slowly shifted his position. His ribs were killing him; breathing hurt. He couldn't feel his legs, but if he could, he'd know he left knee was completely snapped. He let out a quiet groan.
Slowly, as to not let anything else be hurt, he opened one of his pouches, all of which were now covered in his own blood. He looked inside. Only two potions left. He would have to make more sometime.. if he ever got out. Using his left arm to prop him up, he lifted one of the vials out of the pouch and uncorked it with his mouth. He spit out the cork and painfully drank the silverly liquid within.
Then he braced himself.
* * *
Somewhere in the castle, Setzer sat, awaiting a sitting with his friend, Edgar. And from deep within the castle, he heard one of the most painful cries ever imaginable, one of great torment and suffering.
* * *
Tucker moaned in pain as all his bones reset, with each crack and twist, bones set back into their places. His internal injuries all healed and the slashed and bruises on his skin were all vanquished. He carefully got up, still exhausted from his return. The evil son of a b*tch will pay...
He checked his body. No wounds whatsoever... except... his cheek. He approached a mirror on the wall and examined the rune, which gloed a bright red.. almost the color of blood.
He took the vial, which had a few drops of the healing fluid left and droped the remainder of it on his cheek. It began to burn his skin. He let out another moan. A curse. Will his torment ever end? First a monster that will never die, always after me, now this!
He placed the vial back into his pouch and looked over Cecil. He removed the second of the vials and poured half its contents down his throat. He should awaken shortly.
Tucker removed his sword and set it on Ice command, full strength. He slashed at the bars which held him from freedom and they turned to ice. Due to the quick change in temperature, the bars shattered into a million pieces.
Tucker sheathed his sword, propped Cecil with his arm and carried him to freedom beyond.
* * *
Tucker sat on a hill nearby, resting from the battle he endured with the guards on his way out. He looked at the castle of Figaro.
"I will need allies to beat this evil." He chuckled. "No matter what time period I'm go to, evil always follows." Allies, allies, all... he thought. Then it hit him.
He picked up the apple off the ground, from the tree above, and began to munch on it, when it hit him. Setzer was still inside!
Setzer looked up, eyes wide at the seemingly endless cry of pain and anguish. Eyes hardening, he pushed through the doors into the throne room without further delay, dismissing the protesting guards with a flat glance.
"Edgar! Is this how you treat all your friends, waiting outside?" asked Setzer, forcing a tone of joking frivolity into his words. Edgar looked up. Setzer took a step back, staring at the... well, evil looking Edgar who clutched a black sword in his hands... one that seemed almost to suck up any light which it came near. A lantern set against the wall flickered and died, as if to illustrate the point more clearly.
Edgar smiled, lips curving into a wicked grin. "Setzer..." he murmured, resting on the tip of his sword. "How good to see you again." The woman who stood there before Edgar stared at Setzer, speechless seemingly at the cordiality Edgar was presenting an old friend.
Setzer walked out to Edgar, sticking his hand out to shake "So how have you been treating yourself, old friend?" he asked, giving the glowering King of Figaro a broad smile.
Edgar smiled thinly, and...
"Actually...I've had some interesting adventures, and I've been pretty careless. But I guess I'm not a king."
"No. You aren't. It isn't easy, Setzer. Kings are not a happy lot."
"Cyan would say the same thing."
Edgar stared up, anger in his eyes. "Cyan is dead. He will trouble me no more. All who oppose the Dark One will fall."
"Dark One? What are you talking about?" Edgar suddenly seemed to tense all of his muscles. With an incredible forearm slash, he aimed to decapitate Setzer.
Only just as he slashed, Keyla chopped his elbow with her fist. The Dark Blade flew out of his grasp, and Setzer made a run out of the castle.
"B_tch! How DARE you second guess your king!" Edgar lifted the Dark Blade from the floor. Keyla knew that she didn't stand a chance against the NEW Edgar.
"Bork!" she screamed. The skylight shattered and the purple Chocobo game soaring into the room. Keyla flew out of the castle.
"Dark Master! Send me means to pursue the traitor!"
Somewhere, sometime, Livouf Takar laughed.
A dragon three times the size of a Chocobo appeared in the throne room, its eyes as red as Edgar. And Edgar prepared to chase Keyla.
A loud roar sounded behind them, and Keyla looked back to see an explosion of red light rip the roof off the royal palace. A winged shape rose from the opening, all dark armor, ripping talons, and fierce jaws. The dragon roared again, the sound echoing off the towers of the city, then flew swiftly to pursue them, the massive wings stirring up clouds of sand.
Keyla fought off the panic that threatened to sieze her and forced herself to take slow, deep breaths. She had been in this situation before. It strongly reminded her of the time she had been chased by Doom Gaze. She turned to study the dragon's progress. It was over a mile away, but gaining rapidly. Wait...was there something on its back? She squinted in the brilliant sunlight, barely making out a figure in black armor waving a black sword. "Your majesty," she whispered. "I guess you really have become evil." She thought back to the scene in the throne room, recalling King Edgar garbed in the dark armor and wielding the obsidian sword. A red glow of hatred and fanaticism had burned in his eyes, shadows had clung to his face and form. That was not the king that she had sworn to give her life to protect. He was ruthless, evil, and filled with hatred, and she could not believe that this dark warrior was the same king that had winked and flirted with her ever since she became the captain of the wingriders.
Keyla shook her head, forcing the thoughts away. She could worry about the king later; right now, she needed some way to escape. She might be able to wound the dragon with her crossbow; a pair of bolts to the eyes would probably work. However, she didn't want to get that close; at least, not in the open, she thought, as they approached the mountains. She knew every last inch of the mountain range, having scouted them extensively during Kefka's reign. There were canyons too narrow for anything larger than a chocobo to fly through. There were turns so sharp that anyone unfamiliar with them would be dashed against a wall of rock. There were hiding places where an ambush could be executed with complete surprise.
"Very well, your majesty. Let's see how well you fly," she said, as she guided Bork into the first of several narrow canyons.
Livouf Takar had other ideas. As the pommel of his sword throbbed, Edgar gained new resolve. His dragon rapidly closed the space between them, and it was clear the b_tch couldn't escape.
"Burn her!" Edgar yelled to the dragon. A gout of black smoke flew out, engulfing the tail of the chocobo.
It screamed.
Edgar laughed. "Scream, beast! I'll watch you burn!" Edgar's eyes glowed more and more crimson, and Livouf Takar felt his power grow.
Keyla swung to the left, and Edgar screamed. He launched his dragon into a roll... suddenly realizing the foolishness of his endeavor. He began to plummet.
***
Livouf scowled, if a crystal could scowl. He buffeted Edgar upwards onto the drake, but by the time he had, Keyla had escaped. And with his mystical powers, he knew Tucker and Cecil had as well.
***
Edgar returned to the castle and turned towards his guards. "Form a group of soldiers. We are going to take Tzen. Take five hundred fully armed infantry and two hundred chocobo riders. Fifteen black chocobos, too. Bring me news of victory, General."
"Your majesty, that's a quarter of our army!"
"Very good. If you fail, do not return. I will kill you."
Keyla lowered the spyglass and grimly replaced the instrument in its case. "A full regiment of ground troops, supplemented by three flights of black chocobos," she said. Bork turned his head towards her and chirped. "There's no doubt. The king is making his next move. The only question is, which city?" Keyla looked back at the column, estimating its distance from the mountains. "One more day and they'll arrive in South Figaro. Then, with the ships there, the armies of Figaro will be able to attack anywhere they wish."
Bork chirped and suddenly dropped to the ground. Keyla froze as a black chocobo flew overhead, the dark, menacing shadow falling directly on the wingrider. It circled for a moment, then was gone, flying west to rejoin the other troops. Keyla sighed in relief, patting Bork's back. "Good job, Bork. I think you saved us there." Bork chirped inquisitively. "Fair enough," Keyla said, jumping from the saddle. "But remember, these are supposed to be my rations." She reached into one of the saddlebags and brought out a few pieces of dried fruit, which Bork promptly devoured.
At least they had been able to equip themselves from the cache Keyla had hidden in the mountains. Now they had a saddle and harness; spare weapons including gas canisters, a flash device, and a noiseblaster; tools; extra clothing; and food and water. They were fully equipped for combat and travel, but neither seemed like a viable option at the moment.
"Well, maybe I could sneak into South Figaro and figure out where the army is going," Keyla mused. Bork shook his head and chirped shrilly. Keyla sighed. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Any soldier in that column would recognize me on sight." Despite all her effort and frequent barracks inspections, there were still soldiers with pictures of her hanging on their walls. Nothing revealing, but still enough to annoy her. "So, what should we do, Bork?"
The chocobo chirped and flapped his wings. "Doma?" Keyla paused to think for a moment. "Actually, that might work. King Edgar did say there were survivors. Next to Figaro, Doma is the most militarized nation. And if we can find King Garamonde, he might be able to help King Edgar. Okay, Bork, Doma it is." The chocobo turned and flew deeper into the mountains, where they would wait for the cover of darkness before beginning the journey to Doma Castle.
Why had Edgar struck at him? The man had lost his mind, Setzer was sure. Damn him! I came as a friend.. thought Setzer as he pushed the double doors open with a violent shove, letting them crash loudly against the walls. And he tried to strike me down. I wasn't careful. I trusted too highly in his friendship.
Setzer ground his teeth in frusteration as he ran. He broke free of the castle walls when suddenly he heard a cry go up behind him. "Catch him! He attacked our King!" came the cry. Setzer swore profusely. There was no cover in the desert, and the Chocobos certainly ran faster than he did.
"I've been set up." he panted to himself. 'Tucker drew me in, and Edgar was going to get rid of me.' he completed the thought, glancing down at the ripped piece of cloth he held in his jacket. It was a piece of Tucker's cloak. He had woken with it clenched in his hands. Obviously during his captivity he had clenched one of those who transported him...and ripped off a piece of cloth. One which matched a distinctive tear in Tucker's cloak.
Setzer shot a glance over his shoulder. The Chocobo runners were catching up rapidly with him. In moments, they would overtake him. And he would be at Edgar's mercy once again.
He turned around.
"Wasn't that..." he started to say when he head the commotion of guards behind him. He turned to see a pack of bird-riders charging his way. He gasped and started chasing Setzer.
'Man...' he said to himself, 'today is NOT my day!'
He continued running. He heard the sound of the guards coming closer. 'Oh well.. that's life,' he thought. He pulled out one of his few remaining grenades, pulled the pin, and gleefully threw the grenade back. He heard one of the guards say something like, "Gee... what's this?" before a massive explosion caught the air like the sound of happy carnage.
Time was running out for Setzer. Obviously Tucker had determined the extent of Setzer's knowledge, and meant to silence him before he could inform anyone else. His breath was ragged, rubbing coarsely against his windpipe. Phlegm gathered in his mouth, but he dared not stop and rest his aching muscles. I should have kept in better shape, thought Setzer for the briefest of moments before he dismissed the thought. 'If I had, I would have let my skills at gambling go to waste.' Priorities were very important to Setzer.
But that did not really have to do with the predicament Setzer was in. A glimmer of thought came to his mind, a kernel of an idea for how he might release himself from this predicament. Of course, it had a better chance of failing than of succeeding, but Setzer always liked to play the odds. Cracking his knuckles, he came to a screeching halt.
"I surrender!" he called to the remaining Chocobo riders, giving them a broad smile. With that, he gave the wheels creaking in his head a spin and let them go.
The first slowed... then stopped. Then the second. Finally the third. Setzer could envision the slot machine vividly in his head... and just at that realization, the Chocobos went mad, beaks shrilling out in fury. The Chocobo riders didn't stand a chance, and were thrown and trampled within moments. But Tucker still stood. Staring back at the writhing birds in shock.
Suddenly, the Chocobos charged toward Setzer at his mental urging. Reaching out with a slender hand, he took hold of the reins on one of the Chocobos, launching himself on its back with a smooth and practiced motion only a gambler could achieve. Okay, it isn't that smooth or practiced, and I'm sure other people than a gambler could do it. But I like the sound of it, dammit! thought Setzer with a grin as he tossed a cocky salute off to Tucker. Then he drove his heels into the Chocobo's flank, letting it run madly to the south. Away from Tucker and his villainous schemes.
* - * - *
The small shred of cloth came floating to a rest on the sand before Tucker. He looked from the cloth to Setzer, eyes filled with a sharp pain at the desertion of one of his only friends in this world.
And he watched Setzer flee until he was no more than a speck on the horizon.