Chapter 34: Akfek Live! ----------------------- Sascha wrenched herself from the nightmare's grasp and sat bolt upright, her breath coming in short, quick gasps. Her body was drenched with sweat, and her red hair clung damply to her scalp. She tried to recall what it was that had tormented her, but the dream had already stolen back to the vaults of her subconscious, to lie in wait until the next time she was vulnerable. The only thing she could remember about it was Merine's chagrined face, repeating her name... Sighing, she got out of bed. She wasn't going to get any more sleep _this_ night. She looked out from the window of the room. Light was beginning to touch the sky, although the sun could not be seen. Instead, dark clouds hung on the horizon, the harbingers of a coming storm. Sascha was startled out of her reverie by a clatter of pots and pans from somewhere beneath her. The castle was coming to life. The soldiers would soon be gathering in the hall for breakfast, before returning to Doma's much-needed repairs. Sascha got dresses and went down to join them. But, alas, she quickly discovered that her appetite was lacking. Recalling Merine's pained expression in her dream, Sascha was saddened herself. "Merine, I wish you could understand," she whispered, poking absently at her food. "You had dreams once, too..." "Sascha." She heard Akfek's voice behind her. "I can see you are distressed. What is wrong?" "Oh, it's nothing," she replied with a wave of her hand, "just a nightmare." "Well, dismiss it," he said. "We have much to do today. I have learned of a place that would be a welcome addition to our... properties." Seeing that Sascha's interest was aroused, he continued. "I speak of the Tower of the Cult of Kefka. By all reports it is abandoned. We will secure it, and fortify it. It will make not only a good fortress, but an excellent observation post. If you are ready," he glanced at her untouched plate, "we can leave immediately." * - * - * An hour later, the two, along with a company of troops, stood outside the Tower in the pouring rain. The clouds had not lied, and the storm was in full swing now, complete with thunder and lightning. Sascha didn't mind though; she was listening to Akfek's plan. All the morning's troubles were now banished from her thoughts. They were to ascend the Tower, taking whatever treasure remained, and post guards on every floor. Once the Tower was secured, the fortifications could begin. But they had barely gone up the first flight of stairs when one of the soldiers stopped in his tracks. "What was that?" he asked, deathly pale. "What?" said another. "Listen!" All were quiet. Sure enough, from somewhere in the Tower, the sounds of chanting could be heard. "It would appear," said Akfek softly, "that Garek's report was erroneous." He spoke calmly, but Sascha knew that the officer would be in for a very unpleasant surprise when Akfek returned. "Stay here," he ordered the troops. "The Lady and I will investigate." Nodding grimly, Sascha followed him up the next flight of stairs, and down a darkened hallway, where the chanting seemed to be coming from. They stopped just outside a doorway. Inside this room was a figure clothed in a long dark robe, chanting and tracing symbol in the air with along, thin finger. Upon their entry, however, it stopped, and turned to face them. It was a woman, slightly shorter than Sascha. She was very thin, and pale as death. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her black eyes flashed like shards of obsidian. "So," she said, looking them up and down, "what is this? More 'Heroes of Balance'? Come to kill the last Priestess of Kefka, I suppose?" There was a rustle of cloth, and the woman produced a long knife from her robes. "Well, you may try, but I will not die easily..." "I'm afraid you've misunderstood," said Sascha hastily. "It's just that the Tower was supposed to be abandoned." The woman chuckled, and replaced her knife. She couldn't have been more than a few years beyond Sascha in age, but she seemed much older. "No," she replied. "No, there are still a few of us left..." "Allow us to introduce ourselves," said Akfek. "This is Sascha, and I am Akfek." The priestess' head snapped up at this. "Akfek spelled backwards is...Kefka!" "Isn't that interesting," replied Akfek smoothly. He didn't even blink. 'What a strange thing to say,' thought Sascha, 'But then, she's probably mad...' "I am Shirak Rokal," said the woman, her strange eyes still on Akfek. "Where are the other cultists?" asked Sascha. Perhaps they too could be persuaded to join the new Empire. "I will take you to them," replied Shirak, "but I don't think they will have much to say to you." She reached for a staff that was leaning against the wall, and stepped out the door. Sascha noticed that she was leaning quite heavily on it, and seemed to be limping badly. Shirak noted the younger woman's attention. "I was injured by the explosion that ensued when our guardian was destroyed," she explained as she led them back to the stairs, where Akfek motioned for the waiting soldiers to follow. They climbed the Tower in silence until they reached the roof. It appeared to be deserted, but it was impossible to be sure. The rain was coming down harder than ever and, although it was only noon, the sky was black as night. "My friends!" called Shirak to the darkness, "Come to me! I have brought... guests... who wish to speak to you." Suddenly, from the shadows, appeared about thirty men and women, all dresses in the robes of the Cult of Kefka. "Sister," said one, "who are these strangers?" "Their names are Sascha and Akfek." "But... Akfek spelled backwards is Kefka!" exclaimed another, a young man. "Strange, isn't it?" said Akfek coolly. 'Boy, are these people WEIRD,' thought Sascha with a shudder. "Well, it doesn't matter," said the cultist who had spoken earlier." We have no use for outsiders. We shall remain here, as always, until Kefka returns to lead us to glory!" Akfek stepped forward. "But what if I told you...that I am Kefka's brother?" There were gasps from everyone, including Sascha. Kefka's brother? Amazing! "How do we know what you say is true?" asked the same cultist. But before Akfek could answer, there was a flash of lightning, so close that Sascha could smell the ozone. It illuminated Akfek's face, and the family resemblance was undeniable. Many of the cultists fell to their knees in awe. "It's a sign!" cried Shirak, waving her staff about frantically, "a sign from Kefka! He wants us to follow his brother until he himself returns!" "Praise Kefka!" a cheer went up from those assembled. Sascha stared in dumbfounded admiration at Akfek. These people were practically worshipping him! What power... "Listen to me," Akfek said. The cultists hushed immediately. "My brother wishes you to help his army to make this tower into a fortress; a testament to his might. Will you assist us?" "Yes!" cried Shirak. In her eyes burned the fanaticism that had earned the Tower its nickname. It seemed to have re-energized. "No longer shall we wait idly for his return! We shall work now, so that when he comes, all will recognize his glory!" "Sascha and I must return to Doma to tend to more of his wishes," Akfek went on, "but I leave with you this garrison. I have full confidence in all of you." With this, the tow turned and exited. The soldiers seemed somewhat uneasy at the prospect of remaining with the fanatics, but Akfek paid them no mind. As they descended the stairs, Sascha could still hear Shirak raving behind her. "Yes! Here shall we build a device to mirror the might of Kefka! We shall smite his foes! And as they die, upon their faces shall be the look of rapture! And upon their lips shall be the name, 'Kefka'! For only then will they truly know his power!" 'Weirdos,' thought Sascha.