Locke stood on the deck of the airship, staring back at the crumbling tower of Kefka. <_We_ made it,> he corrected himself. All of them. He frowned. <Where are they all? They should be here...>
Setzer was at the helm, he had to be. But the others... He began to feel a sense of panic. <Ridiculous. They must be below.> He started to turn and froze.
A ruby beam blazed into the sky from the southern continent. From the site where Kefka's tower had once stood. <What...? But... Magic is gone...> He stood in shock, staring as the beam faded into the distance. The turbulence was getting worse. He heard someone... <Setzer?> speaking, but the words passed by him as he stood, entranced.
A shout. <Setzer!> Crash positions? He half turned and his eyes went wide with astonishment. The ground was approaching at an incredible rate. <Not again...> Well, he wouldn't die yet. He'd survived the end of the world, after all.
<Where is everybody? Celes! Where...?> There was no time. <I'm sorry...> He took two steps and vaulted the rail, flinging himself from the deck of the airship into the emptiness. "Float!"
Nothing. <No magic...> No Cherub Down either. He was falling. <How ironic...> He'd lost track of the airship. The ground was rushing to meet him. <No life magic either. Looks like I'll be joining you, Rachel.> And then, he struck. <Celes...> He felt something, some great weight on top of him, pushing him further into the ground, into...
Blackness.
He smiled. He was happy here. It had been some time since he'd been this happy. But Rachel was here. He smiled, gazing deeply into her eyes. "It's over. Kefka is lost, the world will heal. And we can be together again."
Silence. <Why doesn't she say anything?> Then her soft, shy smile, at last. She nodded enthusiastically and he watched the wind catch and play with her long, golden hair.
He blinked. No, of course her hair was black. It must have been some trick of the sun. <A golden sun? And there are flowers... the world is improving fast!> He took a step closer, reached out to take hold of her hand, smiling charmingly in an offhand manner that would make Edgar green with envy. If Edgar could see him. If Edgar wasn't such a perfect gentleman.
"If Edgar isn't dead."
Rachel hadn't said that... he must have imagined it, then. He reached out... And she danced backwards, a mischievous grin on her face. <She wants a chase? No, a hunt... and what better treasure for this hunter to find?> He smiled and raced after her, taking care not to run at full speed, to prolong the chase. She ran down the hill and twisted aside... <A cave?> He wondered why she wasn't laughing merrily, or else gasping for breath from the exertion--everything was quiet. <Shouldn't there be birds?>
He followed her into the cave, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He glanced around the cavern, and a memory tugged at him... His face went pale. <No! Not here!> "Rachel! Stop! It's dangerous..."
No answer. Silence. "Please... come out!" He turned to point and stopped. There was no opening, no exit, no entrance. No way out. He couldn't even see the walls, or the floor any more. <Blind? No, there's no light...> He thought he saw a movement. <Rachel?> He stumbled in that direction. Something crashed onto his back, and he collapsed to the ground. He couldn't see...
A whisper. "Not yet, Locke. Go to Jidoor..."
He couldn't think clearly. <Rachel?> "Rachel?" <No, not her voice. Whose?>
"Jidoor..."
<CELES!>
He tried to speak, but found he couldn't breathe.
<Jidoor. Celes...>
He collapsed, alone in the blackness.
He opened his eyes with a groan. It was nearly sunset, but even the dim light was a harsh glare to him. He started to spring to his feet and stopped quickly at the twinge of pain that shot through his entire body. <Gggghhh... nothing broken, I hope. I promised Celes I'd get to Jidoor. Celes... where are you now? You can't be dead, not now...>
Slowly, wincing with every slight motion, he forced himself to his feet. The walk was going to be long... <And dangerous, maybe.> He checked his gear. Most of it had been left behind on the airship. He was down to his clothing... <At least I still have my ThiefGlove.> a pair of his favorite dirks, Graedus and Valiant, and his belt pouch, with its handful of gold coins and...
<Of course. My Tonic!> He fumbled with the clasp, to find that the vial had somehow survived the fall. <Just what I need to get in shape for this trip.> He lifted the cracked vial to his lips, carefully trying not to cause it to break and spill the fluid. <I hope these work, now that magic is gone.> With one quick movement, he threw the potion into his mouth and swallowed. He felt the familiar spreading warmth as his protesting muscles were soothed. <Not nearly enough. But maybe if I don't run into anything too deadly... now, where am I?>
He realized he didn't know. <North, Setzer said... I remember now. North... Narshe? Kohlingen? Not the Veldt, that's for sure. I guess I'd get a better look from the top of that hill...> He sighed. He was still in no condition for this. But there was no other way. He turned toward the hill and began his slow climb toward the top,trying carefully not to strain his already-exhausted body.
The climb took hours. He grimly kept his head down, counting each step. He lost count but kept trudging onward mechanically, almost driven by something outside himself. And he reached the summit at last.
<Anyone, or anything, in the area can see me, too, up here,> he realized. It didn't matter. There, on the distant horizon, he saw the walls of a city near the sea. <Kohlingen.> He could reach it by nightfall... <I climbed through the entire night?!> He began his long march, and was immediately forced to take a slower pace, thanks to his injuries. <Not by nightfall. Maybe within a week...> He sighed.
It was going to be a long trip. But he could try to get a boat there. <Jidoor. Celes!> Resolutely, he began his journey.
"To Kohlingen!"
The second day, he ran into the Rhinox.
Once the reptilian creature would have been no match for Locke--when he was in full health and had command of his magics. As it was now, he was barely its equal, as he soon discovered. Graedus enhanced his speed, barely enabling him to dodge the beast's initial claw-swipe. He quickly counterattacked, thrusting his dagger deep into one of the vaguely-humanoid arms. The wound oozed green ichor; the monster turned, slashing at him once again.
The motion yanked his dirk Graedus from his hand. He sucked in one agonizing breath as claws ripped across his chest. <Good thing the darksuit provides some protection, or I'd be dead for real right now.> He staggered back as an electric shock ripped through his body... Giga Volt. <Can't take much more of this...>
He had the answer. His other weapon.
Moving as swiftly as he could, he freed Valiant from its sheath and leapt to attack. Valiant struck home, and he felt it imparting him with additional power. So the magic of Valiant still worked. It became progressively more deadly as its wielder neared death. In this case, it performed its duty; the Rhinox fell. He had the feeling he wouldn't be too far behind. Time and his Tonic had helped, but that blow had set him back to where he was. Unless he could... <What's that?>
He bent to search the reptilian's body. <They're more advanced than I thought. Gold coins... and I think this might be an Elixir!> He eagerly drank, and once more felt the spreading warmth... but it was not complete. He frowned. <Either that wasn't what I thought it was, or the magical potions are losing their effect now.> Well, he was still better off than he'd been before he confronted the monster. And closer to Kohlingen too. <I should arrive tomorrow at midday. And then I'm going to sleep for a week.>
He sighed, knowing he'd do no such thing. <Well, maybe on the ship from Kohlingen to Jidoor. If I don't get seasick again.>
He purposefully set off. North. To Kohlingen.
"Driel! Have you gotten the supplies yet? Or are you planning on bird watching all day? We do leave for Jidoor in a few days." A tall, lanky man with light brown hair and hazel eyes called out to her from the ship docked at the pier.
She turned her gaze upon him, a small smile touching her lips. "I'll take care of that soon enough, Jared. My goodness, you'd think you were the captain of my ship, rather than my brother."
He replied, "And who says I can't be both?" She smiled as he grinned back at her. As he turned away to shout orders to a few of the more lazy crew members, she let her eyes wander over her ship, finally stopping to look at the name so boldly inscribed on the bow: Leviathan's Pride. It had taken a bit to convince her brother that this was a worthy name, since the reference was rather obscure. But of all the legends she had researched during her studies of the ancient world, none seemed more fitting. Briefly she wondered if the myths about the King of Monsters, or any about the Paladin Cecil, were true. Her brother sometimes mocked her about her daydreams, especially since they had just lived through their own cataclysmic, world-shattering event. He said she should try to meet some living myths, rather than fantasizing about the past. She always shrugged and said, "Why can't I have the best of both worlds?" And he would just grunt and say, "More like the worst of both worlds."
Sighing, she brushed her long hair out of her eyes and headed to Kohlingen to pick up the much-needed supplies.
That bothered Locke as he continued his journey to Kohlingen. <The world seems to be recovering so rapidly now. It can't be magic... but this isn't natural. It can't be... but Valiant worked too...> Try as he might, the treasure hunter could come to no other conclusion than this: Magic had not been destroyed. <Not entirely, anyway.>
"Cure 2!" Nothing. <Too bad; that would've speeded my travel nicely. Maybe something simpler?> "Cure!" Nothing. He drew Valiant and slashed through the air with it, feeling it pulse with power as it sensed his weakened condition. <My spells don't work. Valiant does. The potions do, but elixirs are weakened? Maybe I just mistook that vial. This doesn't make sense.>
He thought about the Magicite crystals. Those had signaled the end of magic when they shattered. <Did all the shards vanish? Maybe, as the world recovers, magic recovers too?> He shrugged. He was no magician. <Strago would know. Or Celes...> "Celes. I have to find her..."
Glancing up, he found himself only a short distance from the walls of Kohlingen. <That wasn't so bad.> He was tired. He could hardly stand... <I must have been moving too fast, strained my wounds... but a moment ago, I was...>
Eyes wide, he tried one more spell in desperation. "Antidote!" No good. He had to get to the inn, lie down. Exertion would make the poison circulate more quickly. <That wasn't an elixir. Don't know what it was, but not...> He staggered as he passed through the gate, fell sideways, nearly knocked over a brown-haired woman.
He started to straighten himself up. "Your pardon, I..." The words weren't coming out right. It felt like he was floating, not connected to the ground, the town, the people around him, the brown-haired woman...
The crowd watched in astonishment as the young traveler slumped to the ground, unconscious.
As she reached the gate, she stopped, briefly turning toward the direction of the port, because her arms were still loaded with supplies, which would hinder her as she searched for herbs. Shrugging, Driel turned back toward the gate, just in time to nearly collide with a young man whose feet seemed rather unsteady. He pulled himself straight, or at least tried to. He looked a bit dazed as he said, "Your pardon, I..." He paused, and Driel waited for the rest, trying to compose her own words of apology, but she never got the chance, because the man then proceeded to collapse to the ground.
Almost as soon as he fell, the crowd began to push closer, as people tried to see what was going on. With her arms still full, Driel couldn't push people back, and they didn't listen to her as she told them to back off. Her face darkened briefly, and she dropped the supplies to the ground and shouted, "WOULD EVERYONE JUST BACK OFF FOR A MINUTE? Give the poor man some air!" Most stepped back at that, and the ones that didn't she pushed away. Muttering about "stupid rubber neckers" to herself, Driel knelt down, now that she had the room to, and looked over the young man. His skin was clammy and cold to the touch, and when she pulled back one eyelid, his eye was dilated. And upon closer inspection, he had many cuts and bruises all over his body.
Hoping that he didn't have anything contagious, she lifted up her patient and heaved him over her shoulder. She pointed to a child and said, "Grab my stuff, would you please?" As the wide-eyed girl complied with her orders, Driel started down the street. Rather than try to lug him all the way to her ship, she headed for the inn. When she got there, she asked for a room, then climbed the stairs. By this time she was panting rather heavily, and began to curse the innkeeper for giving her a room at the far end of the hall. Setting the ill man down, she fumbled with the key and opened the door. After that task was accomplished, she pulled him into the room and set him down on the bed.
As she tried to catch her breath, Driel turned to the girl, who had managed to follow her. "Thank you, you've been a big help. Here's a couple of coins, you can buy some candy with it. On your way out, ask the innkeeper to come here." When the girl left, Driel sat down heavily on the bed. In a few minutes the innkeeper entered the room. "Oh good, there you are. Look, I need you to send someone to the ship Leviathan's Pride. Have them tell Jared that I need my herb bag and the first aid kit in my room. Oh, Jared's the captain."
The innkeeper nodded, then said, "Do you want the local healer too? I can send someone else to get him."
Driel sighed, then replied, "Not unless his magic still works. Otherwise I should do just as well, if not better. I've been a ship healer for five years now. It's a good thing I was never very good with magic, hmm? Wouldn't do me any good now. Oh, goodness, just get a move on, we shouldn't be talking while this poor man lies here."
The innkeeper nodded again, then rushed out the door. Driel sat on the bed and looked at the man and tried to figure out what was wrong.
The room was similar to many of those he'd stayed at during his time as an adventurer. A bed, a table, and a pair of chairs were the only furnishings; a vase of flowers rested on the table, and a framed picture of a ship at sea hung on the wall nearest the bed. <Not bad,> he thought, automatically assessing the artwork with a practiced eye. <Nothing like Relm's though.> He realized that he missed his companions. The charming young artist; poor King Edgar, who missed being a perfect gentleman only because he tried so hard to fit the ideal; the energetic Moogle; Terra, who finally discovered what love was; even the enigmatic mercenary Shadow. And most of all Celes. <I've _got_ to find her...>
He shook off his reverie when he realized he was not alone. Instinctively, he reached for Valiant, to find it gone! No, there it was, on the table. And the person with him was the brown-haired woman he had nearly run over on his way here. <What was wrong with me then? I feel... better... now. Maybe she cured me?> He was still weak, but that was due to his wounds, he surmised. And she obviously hadn't meant him harm; he must have been helpless for some time.
Locke levered himself up onto one elbow, somehow managing not to groan at the effort. "Hello. I'm Locke Cole. You're the one who brought me here, I take it? Thank you..."
He smiled cheerfully and waited for the woman to respond.
Kefka stood atop his newly created tower, laughing maniacally into the wind in triumph. "The world has been destroyed, and I am its master!" he screamed into the air, not caring that he could not be heard above the shrill shriek of the wind. It was as if the earth itself was crying out against Kefka's actions.
"Shut up, wench!" he called at the earth, then giggled happily. Taking a few steps, he disappeared down the stairs into the upper levels of the tower.
Kefka looked around in greed at all that he saw here. Contrary to what others /would/ believe, he had not created this tower. Rather, he had landed before it right after the world was destroyed by the... um... well, those BEAUTIFUL white rays. It was deserted, and he took it as his castle. "Kefka's Tower, is what I'll call it. After all, it's a tower, and I'm Kefka... master of the world! Uwa-ha-ha-ha!" he laughed madly to himself.
Looking around through the treasures, he noticed that for the most part, they were rings of all different makes and styles, each containing a priceless jewel in it's setting. Never one for subtlety, Kefka promptly fumbled through the pile which he had formed on the floor, fitting ring after ring after ring onto his stubby fingers.
"They're so lovely..." he gushed, admiring his new treasures. Finally pulling himself from his reverie, he looked up. "There was one more treasure..." he said softly, peering about closely.
"Ah ha!" he exclaimed. "There you are, my beautiful." Before him was a knife, light gleaming off it's shimmering, perfect steel from an unknown source. The blade was curved wickedly, it's edge razor sharp. "Valiant..." murmured Kefka, uncertain (and uncaring) as to how he knew it's name.
He reached out, moving his hand toward the knife's hilt. The rings scattered upon his fingers began flashing brightly in warning, telling him to stay away from this blade which had caught Kefka's heart so. But he paid them no heed.
With a smooth swipe, he held the blade in his hands, knuckles clenched tightly about one another. His eyes gazed upon the blade with a look of wonderment, awe, and just a trace of fear. His voice echoed softly in the empty, silent hall.
"Valiant."
Then the knife exploded.
****************************
The figure started from its sleep with the dream which shook its core. It smiled slowly, drawing on a black robe in the pitch black room. "Thank you, Kefka..." it whispered, fingers making their way unerringly toward the handle of the door. "For that, I let you live."
It walked out into the chamber outside. The wraiths jumped noticeably, then turned toward the figure, shuddering briefly in fear at their lord's entrance. It smiled.
"Any news?" asked the figure coldly, taking its seat on its throne.
"Yes, lord..." gasped one of the wraiths, approaching the throne. "Locke's poisoning has become even worse, and it is commonly believed that he will not live to walk to Kohlingen."
"Excellent.." murmured the figure in thought. "With him gone... there will be none who can stand against me."
"There is more, lord. Setzer and Tucker have spoken, but have not banded together. Annis is ensuring that they will not."
"Good. Now leave me."
The wraith bowed in acquiesence, making its way back to where it had stood before. Watching its master for any indication of displeasure. And praying that it would not be the source of the displeasure.
Suddenly, though, he tensed, and reached for where his weapon would be, if she had not removed it when she had taken off his shirt to bandage his chest. She sat up straighter, wondering if he was going to attack anyhow, but he finally relaxed, and after a moment began to speak.
"Hello. I'm Locke Cole. You're the one who brought me here, I take it? Thank you..." He smiled brightly at her.
"Um, yes I did. My name is Driel Aplani. I've been tending your wounds for about a day now."
Locke smiled. "Well, at least it was only a day. It would have been disturbing if I had slept for say, a week, and had lost too much time. Since you cured me, you must have figured out what was wrong. What was wrong?"
"As near as I can figure, you drank something poisonous, which aggravated your already weak condition. Fortunately most of your wounds were not infected, except for this one on your arm. You did end up with a mild case of blood poisoning. If I had been paying too much attention to the poison you drank, I might have missed it, but I should be able to clean your blood now." As she spoke, she lifted up his arm to point out the angry red streaks running along it. When she touched it, the red lines started to fade to pink, then disappeared all together.
"Hey, thanks!" Locke exclaimed. He didn't seem to notice the disturbed expression which flitted across Driel's face, because he was so engrossed in his arm. "So, your magic still works? That's good, because my own seem to only work in spurts, if at all. And my tonics seem to be reduced for some reason."
Driel smiled weakly. "Yeah, my magic's still working. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to wake you in just a day. Most of my herbs don't work that quickly." What she didn't add was that she had never had much luck with magic before, and had not even been casting a spell when she touched Locke's arm.
"I'm glad, then. Again, thank you for all you've done. I even feel stronger now, like I've just gotten a burst of energy." Driel winced as he spoke, for she herself felt like she had just run a marathon. While fighting a monster.
Locke, feeling better than he had in days, was also feeling very enthusiastic. "If my luck keeps holding out, I should be able to find Celes and the others in no time!"
<Celes?> Driel thought, <I wonder who Celes is. He seems to be fond of whoever it is.> Locke's enthusiasm was contagious though, so she started to perk up. "So, where are you headed?"
"Well, I want to check the town here briefly, and if no one I know is here, I plan on moving on to Jidoor," Locke said.
She laughed as she heard this. "This must be your day then! I'm with the ship Leviathan's Pride, and we leave for Jidoor tomorrow."
"What a lucky streak this is!" Locke chuckled. "Boy, I've spent too much time with Setzer. I'm starting to sound like him. Anyhow, do you think passage to Jidoor would cost too much?"
Driel smiled. After going through his stuff, she knew he didn't have much cash on him. "Actually, I could probably get you on board with no problem, as my guest. My brother owns the ship, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind, as long as you don't spread the word that we transport passengers for free."
"Thank you! Is there anything I can do to repay you?" He was still a bit weak, and his good fortune was starting to shock him. <I think I MUST be stealing Setzer's good luck,> he thought.
As he asked her this, she started to fidget a bit. Feeling bold, she asked, "Actually, I was wondering if I might tag along when you reach Jidoor. I've been wondering about the strange things that magic has been doing lately, and you seem to be headed in the right direction. You have the smell of adventure about you."
Locke chuckled again. "I guess you could say that. Sure, why not! I might run into more trouble, and a healer could come in handy."
She beamed at him, her face lighting up. "Thanks! Well, I need to eat now. If you want, I could send you food, or you could just rest, or if you are feeling up to it, you could wander about town looking for familiar faces. It's up to you." With that, she waited for his response.
She smiled radiantly. "Thanks! Well, I need to eat now. If you want, I could send you food, or you could just rest, or if you are feeling up to it, you could wander about town looking for familiar faces. It's up to you."
He _did_ feel better, he realized. Thanks to her magic. He tried to convince himself that that was the only reason... <Well, if I'm going to do this, I'll need to prepare.>
He smiled back. "I think I do feel up to it. Who knows? I might find some clue as to where my friends are. But first," his face grew serious, "I have to warn you that this might be dangerous. You saw the shape I ended up in when I arrived in Kohlingen."
Locke swung to his feet. <Incredible. I don't even feel dizzy. That must have been some healing spell.> He walked to the table that held his knives, lifted one in each hand, and weighed them for a moment as he continued to speak. "You should take this. Just in case," he said, setting Graedus back on the table. "It's highly magical. Even if you've never used a knife, you should be able to handle it. It practically fights by itself." He sheathed the other knife, Valiant, and smiled as he finished. "Not that that should be necessary -- I'll protect you. Stick with me and you'll be fine."
He paused momentarily, as though waiting for a response, but there was none. "Well, I'll join you in a little while. I just want to have a look around. Thanks again," he called, already on his way out the door. <Just a quick look around... I feel like I could run a marathon!>
Oblivious to his surroundings, he rushed down the stairs and out of the inn, to the street outside.
Biting her lip, she picked up Graedus and slipped it and its sheath onto the belt of her tunic. Then she began to stand up... and immediately sat back down. "Whoa!" she exclaimed. She sat back down heavily, the breath knocked from her. She was glad there wasn't a mirror in the room, because she did not want to see what she looked like. She already knew what she felt like, and it was not pleasant. <I hope my magic doesn't plan on healing every sick person I encounter. I wouldn't last very long that way.> Biting her lip, she stood up and walked out of the room and down the stairs. For all her strength, which she had worked up over the years with hard labor, she was seriously considering getting a walking stick. <I probably just need something to eat.> Her stomach rumbled at that remark.
When she reached the dining room, she slowly took a chair and sat down, trying to remain dignified. Carefully, she framed her words and asked for a large plate of pasta, vegetables, and a nice cut of steak. As soon as the food was placed before her, she lost what little pride she had left, and wolfed down every last morsel. She asked for seconds, then thirds. As the other people in the room stopped their conversations, stopped eating, and stared at her, her face grew rosy, then outright cherry red. For all her embarrassment, she could not stop eating until after the fourth plate. She did feel much better, though. Hoping she didn't look nearly as foolish as she felt, she paid for her meal and walked out of the room at a leisurely pace.
As soon as she was out of sight of the spectators, though, she ran up the stairs to the room she had rented, laughing hysterically. Still giggling, she sat down in the room to wait for Locke. <I hope that doesn't happen too much. Besides being embarrassing, that could get costly...> Driel picked up a book she had brought along to read while Locke had lain ill, and tried to read. Every few minutes, though, she had to stop because of fits of nervous laughter that left tears streaming down her cheeks. <Wait till Jared hears about this. He'll never believe me. He always thought I ate too little.> Smiling ruefully, she shook her head and concentrated on her book.
"Let the spirits of wind and water unite..." it said softly. "To bring a storm across every ocean, sea and stream that runs through this land. Let no ship be safe, nor any harbor unharmed. With the oaths that were promised me, I demand that this be done!"
A flash of light struck, then a low sound of thunder. The figure waved its hand, leaning back once again into its throne. "Let no ship be safe..." it murmured softly, its words growing slowly in tone and pitch until it became a full throated laugh of malice and glee.
He'd survived to Kohlingen and met Driel, who had all at once provided healing and, even more importantly to him, transportation to Jidoor. Locke hated ships, but this was the fastest way, now that Setzer and his Falcon were lost. He'd gone to search Kohlingen for his friends, but he found nothing; nor could he afford to prepare as he would have liked. Three or four elixirs would have been useful...
But that was secondary. He returned to the inn finally, to find Driel engrossed in a book. History, it seemed. Definitely an unusual interest for a shipboard healer. <Well, I guess it occupies the journeys.>
They had talked for a short time, of course, but she had seemed very tired, and he knew that he should sleep himself. Cure magic could only do so much. So many of his questions remained unasked -- Where did she learn magic? -- and he was certain that she had at least as many to ask him. Well, there would be time. He was not looking forward to his journey on the sea, but it would ensure that he had a great deal of time. Maybe the weather would be good and he wouldn't get seasick.
The next morning, Driel led him to her brother's ship, the Leviathan's Pride. The captain, Jared, looked skeptical at first, but agreed to transport Locke, at his sister's continued urging. They set sail, expecting to arrive at Jidoor in half a week. The weather was fair, the oceans calm, and Locke managed to avoid feeling more than a little queasy. He had some trouble getting to sleep, but beyond that he was as comfortable as anyone.
On the second afternoon, Locke's luck ran out. A cloudless sky grew as dark as midnight within seconds. Without warning, the skies opened, and Locke, actually enjoying the sea air, was drenched. Wind roared past him, nearly tearing off his cap and hurling it into the ocean's depths. Lightning flashed across the sky. Locke nearly lost his balance as a wave tossed the boat. He staggered, only to be nearly thrown overboard as a second wave contacted the vessel.
"Leviathan's Pride... I hope you live up to that name now! But where did this storm come from?" <I can hardly hear my own voice. I guess shouting would be useless.> Another surge; another battle to keep his balance. <I'd better go back below...>
On top of everything else, he was getting seasick.
"So, did you find any of your friends?"
He shook his head, looking a tad bit disappointed. "No, no one's here. Maybe they got together in Jidoor." Despite this, he still seemed to be in a very good mood. "I should at least find some clues as to where they might be." He grinnned at his own comment. "I, Locke, the world's greatest treasure hunter, am about to embark on a journey to seek out the world's greatest treasures: my friends!" He chuckled at his own comment.
Driel laughed. "So, you travel the world searching for lost gold? Sounds exciting."
"It is, when you aren't being attacked by some foul beast with long, jagged teeth."
"Uh, yeah, I guess that could dampen your fun." She struggled to contain a yawn that seemed rather out of place.
Locke just smiled to himself. "Am I boring you?"
She sat up, trying to keep her droopy eyelids open. "Oh no, I'm just a bit tired, is all."
Locke sat down on the bed. "In that case, you'd better get some sleep, since we leave early tomorrow."
She nodded, stood up, and walked out the door. After she had left, Locke noticed that she had left her book behind. On the cover the title was written in gold letters: "A Synopsis of the Third Age". Shrugging, he set the book back down and lay back on the bed.
They set out nice and early the next morning, with clear blue skies and the promise of a fine journey. Driel searched the skies for any signs of bad weather in the next few days, and found none. The seagulls cried out overhead, which to Driel was a good omen. As noisy as they were, she had missed them when they had vanished from the skies. Since Driel was able to swear that it would be a safe journey, her brother was in a good mood and had only argued for half an hour before allowing Locke on board for free.
After they were out a ways, Driel sought out her brother again, and found him leaning against the bow for a brief rest. She walked up to him and said, "Hello there, Jared."
"Hey there, Driel. So what's on your mind?"
She fidgeted. "Well, I was hoping to ask for a favor."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "I haven't given you enough lately?" He watched her squirm under his gaze for a few moments, then laughed. "You might as well ask me, since I can't refuse a favor I haven't heard."
"I was wondering if I could have a bit of a vacation once we reached Jidoor."
"Sure," he shrugged.
"Really? Thanks!"
"Yeah, we'll be in port there for about two weeks, you can relax then."
She frowned. "I, ah, meant for longer than that."
He turned his gaze back on her, only much more intense. "Longer? How much longer? And where would you be going?"
"I don't know. I don't know the answer to either question. I'm just feeling restless."
He laughed. "Feeling restless? You've been at sea for five years, travelling the world, and you're feeling restless? I'd say you have the opposite problem."
She grinned weakly, then laughed with him. "Nevertheless, I am leaving."
He shrugged again. "Whatever. It's inconvenient for me, but you are free to do what you want, sister." With that he walked away, yelling at the crew members once more. Driel stood there for a while, unsure why she felt so guilty and upset at getting what she wanted. She looked over and saw poor Locke trying not to throw up on the other side. She was about to go talk to him, but she was called over to help with some heavy duty lifting. Unfortunetly, her tasks kept her busy all day, and she was too tired that evening to strike up a conversation with Locke. <I must still be recovering,> she thought. <See if I ever do magic again.>
The next day, the skies remained bright and sunny throughout the morning. By early afternoon, though, there was a peculiar shift in the winds. Driel noticed it almost without thought, but she dropped her task after another minute. She tested the direction of the wind, and felt the cool tang in the air.
"There's a storm coming," she muttered. <That's awfully weird. The wind should not have switched for at least another few days. Oh well, I'll have to tell Jared, so he can prepare the ship.> With that, she picked up her task again. After another five minutes, Driel suddenly realized that all the light had disappeared. At the same time, she felt something stab her. At first she thought it was something she tripped on, but she realized that it was not a physical pain. <Magic...someone's summoned a storm...> Her eyes grew wide and she yelped when rain started to pelt her. She stood, stunned, for a second, as she was drenched in rain and lightning cut through the sky again and again. She swore rather loudly, but no one heard her over the dowpour. If she concentrated, she could hear someone's voice over the rackous. <Jared,> she thought. <I have to get to him, help him.> She walked towards his voice, trusting her sea legs to carry her there. Unfortunately, the ship was then rocked by a powerful surge of water.
"Whoa! she shouted. "That's some wave!" Briefly she noticed that Locke was struggling to remain on board, as yet another wave lifted the ship like a toy. Torn, she almost went to help him, but unfortunately her brother needed help or the whole ship could be lost. <But what can I do? Um, I guess try to cast a spell?>
And so she tried to keep her ground, and repeated a spell she had once read about. Unfortunately, it required a good deal of serenity and concentration, two things she was lacking. She didn't even get a fizzle. And so she resorted to cursing whoever designed the spell, since most people would not be calm in a storm.
As she muttered to herself, she looked up in time to see several crew members being tossed like rags into the choppy waves. Fortunately, her brother managed to stay on board.
As the next surge hit the boat, though, she watched him get thrown off the ship. And then something hit her on the head and the world ceased to exist for her.
A vague shape ahead, another figure fighting the magically- induced weather. "Captain! Jared!" <No good. I barely heard that myself. I'll have to get closer.> But at that moment, another surging wave crashed against the side of the ship. Water sprayed over the sides, boards began to creak underfoot... and the captain fell to the deck, scrabbling for purchase on the rain-slicked boards.
Locke had no time to consider, only to react, and he did. He leapt forward with almost inhuman speed--the only other person he'd ever met who even came close to matching his quickness was the assassin Shadow--but he could not prevent the captain from being swept overboard. The railing that had protected the passengers on deck had already been shattered, swept away by the ocean.
Worse, he realized that he was not going to be able to regain a sure footing on the deck, now that he had carelessly leapt forward. He slid for a moment towards the gap in the railing, leaning backwards at a precarious angle, slowing. <I think I'm going to make it...>
Lightning flashed nearby. He thought he heard the sound of splintering wood, but before he could turn his head toward the noise, another massive wave tossed the vessel aside. A lesser ship would have capsized, but the Leviathan's Pride hung on, somehow.
Locke knew nothing of this. He only knew that he was falling, thrown overboard. He tried to twist in midair, to hit the water more cleanly. <Why bother? I can't swim, and none of the crew saw me go over. If any of the crew are left. I'm sorry, Driel. We should have waited in Kohlingen, just a little longer.> He barely knew it when he hit the water. He was already soaked through. But he found out soon enough. In this storm, even the best swimmer would have struggled to stay afloat, and Locke found himself submerged, disoriented. <Never thought I'd end up _this_ way...>
His sight was failing. That was okay, there was nothing to see here anyway. He felt so... tired... <Just... sleep... a little while...> He closed his eyes. Faces passed before him, the past relived. Rachel, smiling one morning, unconscious the next. Years later, awakening for the last time, giving to him the power of the Phoenix. Life from death. <Too bad that won't help me anymore.> Strago and Relm in Thamasa, in the attic of a burning house, trapped, until Shadow came. Edgar and Terra. <Surprised that someone like me would know a king?> Arvis, the Returners. Banon. <What happened to you after the world died, old friend?> Most of all, Celes. Not as a general, ironically; not as a Magitek knight. Celes at the opera house, posing as Maria in order to trap Setzer. He could almost hear the song now...
A dreamy smile flitted across Locke's lips, though there was none to see it.