Chapter 18: Life is Pain
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  The fighting was going well, Scarecrow noted from his perch up in the sky.
His small group, the Knives, were whittling the Imperials down magnificently.
They weren't very well trained, but all of them had a lot of raw instinct and
intuition, enough to put them on par with the more experienced imperials.
The addition of a few Figaran chocobo riders to the Knives was enough to give
them an edge.  And Scarecrow's guerilla tactics didn't hurt them any, of
course.
  Scarecrow smiled faintly at the thought, then his face turned grim.  Slowly,
inexorably, the Returners were being beaten back.  They were outnumbered and
outgunned.  The suits of Magitek armor Scarecrow had managed to supply Banon
and his followers with simply weren't enough.  Returner casualties were much
higher than those of the Empire.
  Scarecrow nodded.  It was high time to end this battle... the assassin way.
After some convincing, the soldier Rasmaine had told Scarecrow of General
Renshield, the Empire's commander for this battle.  Finish him, and the
Empire's efforts would soon crumble.
  Scarecrow grimaced as he completed his fly-by survey of the building
Renshield was holed up in.  Whatever else Renshield might be, he was no fool.
The building, which Scarecrow assumed was a temporary command center for this
battle, was well fortified.  Sentries all over.  There was only one good
method for breaking into a place like this: distraction.
  *****************
  On a hilltop overlooking Jidoor, a balding man smiled.  The battle of
Jidoor was going nicely, with the Returners still likely to lose.  That in
itself did not matter.  However, several of those fighting on the side of the
Returners were... annoyances to his mighty master.  It would be well if those
annoyances were removed.
  Banon.  Scarecrow.  Lukahn.  Others.  The crows and rats of Jidoor had told
him of the precense of those foolish mortals.  The very thought of them
brought a sneer to his lips.  They would all pay dearly for their crimes
against his master.  Someday, they would all pay.
  *And perhaps,* the old man thought as he looked around, *Perhaps that day
has come.*  Near him were nine young dogs, tails wagging in the morning sun.
None of them looked like much... unless you happened to glance at their eyes.
The eyes were bereft of life... no, worse, they were filled with oblivion,
seeming to draw out a portion of the soul of any who happened to stare into
them.  They were the Chaos Hounds.
  The old man cackled with glee.  "Go, my pets!  Go, and destroy all that
you can!"  The Hounds snapped out of their lazy posture, shifting to a battle
ready stance in the blink of an eye.  With a simoultaneous howl, the Hounds
charged forward.
  *****************
  General Renshield dutifully studied the papers before him.  Maps.  Maps of
Jidoor, covered with dots and lines to show troop movements and casualties.
The maps clearly showed that the Returners were losing ground rapidly, being
driven back towards their base.  The fighting would soon be inside their
base, rather than outside.  And yet...
  Reports kept coming in about a band of no more than twenty wreaking havoc
on imperial lines.  They seemed to be everywhere, hitting the Empire where
they were most vulnerable.  Despite Renshield's best efforts, his soldiers
were unable to pin down the group.  The moment reinforcements arrived, the
small band would vanish into the city.  It was infuriating.
  Renshield swept the maps from his desk in frustration.  The worst part was
his inability to aid in the conflict.  He was by far the greatest swordfighter
the Empire had in this fight, and yet he was cooped up in here.  The Empire
wanted him to be careful... to take no chances.  But where was the honor in
hiding behind walls while you sent your men to battle?
  Renshield fingered his sword.  *If only I had a shot at Banon,* he thought,
*or perhaps the black-cloaked leader of that little band that's giving us so
much trouble.  I would show them the meaning of honor!*  Renshield's blade
snapped out of it's sheath, cleaving through a wall of his private room.
  In midstroke, Renshield heard a creak from behind him.  He kept the blade
up, swinging it around until it rested at the throat of...
  Jed, one of his officers.  Jed's face was frozen in fright.  "Uh... sir?
I, uh, well..."
  "Yes?" Renshield asked as he slid his sword back into it's scabbard.  "I
don't have all day, Lieutenant."
  "Well... we have a problem.  You know that small group that's been all over
our lines, they, they're..."  Renshield cut him off.
  "Spit it out, man!"
  "They're here."
  Renshield blinked.  "Here?!  How in hell did they find..."  As he spoke,
he heard the faintest of noises coming from behind him.  Not a moment too
soon, Renshield ducked forward, throwing his hands up to grasp the gloved
hand that had very nearly ended his life.  With a sharp tug, he used his
assailant's own momentum to carry him forward and over Renshield's head.
  Before the assassin could move, Renshield's blade was at his throat.
  "Back-stabbing worm!  You have no honor!"
  Scarecrow's green eyes were blank, betraying no emotion.  "It is you who is
without honor.  You are Doman, correct?  The same Empire you fight for is the
one that mercilessly poisoned all the people of Doma.  At least when you
backstab someone you give them the chance to spot you."
  Renshield cocked his head in surprise.  An assassin with a sense of honor?
He paused, considering the cloaked man's words.
  "That was done by one man.  His actions do NOT represent..."
  "Your Empire gave him a full pardon.  And no matter what the rulers are,
your Empire hasn't changed.  They want nothing but power!"
  "Wrong, assassin!  The Empire and I want to create order out of this world
of chaos!  So that..."
  "Order, is it?  Would you sacrifice justice and mercy for law, then?  Is it
worth so much that you would force men to live in fear for your Empire?"
Scarecrow's tone was harsh and cold, and Renshield could swear he saw a sneer
underneath the assassin's mask.
  Renshield paused for a long moment.  His sword dropped to his side,
forgotten.  This man talked sense.  Perhaps... could Renshield have been
wrong all these years?
  Lieutenant Jed was appaled.  "He's just trying to trick you into betraying
the Empire!  What are you doing, General?!?"
  Before Renshield could respond, the door of the room crashed open.  A
spotted gray dog was standing in the doorway, yellow teeth bared.  It growled,
then pounced, moving with a speed beyond anything Renshield had ever seen.
Jed collapsed to the ground as the hound bit hard into his throat.
  The hound came for Renshield next.  Renshield moved his sword to intercept
it, but the expected leap never came.  The dog stopped just out of sword
reach.  Renshield cocked his head, puzzled.
  And the wave of emotions rolled over him, threatening to crush him.  Fear,
anger, and hate combined against the Returners, especially the one assassin
standing next to him.  The Returners killed just as much as the Empire!  Why
else would they send an assassin?  They would pay for trying to trick him
with their foolish lies!  All of them would pay!
  In rage, Renshield lashed out against the assassin, who was trying without
luck to attack the fiendishly fast Chaos Hound.  Scarecrow only barely managed
to parry Renshield's blow.
  Scarecrow backed off, now forced to fight two opponents at once.  Renshield
sneered in triumph.  The Returner scum couldn't last much longer.  Ha!
  <Remove!> General Renshield blinked, unsure of what spell the assassin
could be casting.  And then the world faded...
  ************
  Scarecrow leaned on his sword, nearly collapsing to the ground.  That
spell... where could he have learned it?  Whatever it was, it sure drained a
lot of energy from him.  He wasn't sure he could defeat the hound at this
point, even with Renshield having vanished.
  Oddly, though, now that Renshield was gone, the gray dog seemed to have no
interest in continuing the fight.  It stared at Scarecrow, lips curled back
in an almost human grin.
  "What... what are you?"
  Scarecrow was only mildly surprised when the hound responded.  "I am Pain.
I am all there is to life, all there will ever be."
  "There is more to life than pain."  The words sounded hollow in Scarecrow's
mouth.  He wasn't sure whether he believed what he said.
  "You are a fool if you truly think so.  Look back on your life... what is
there that is not pain?  Why should life be worth living?"
  Memories flashed in Scarecrow's mind.  His mother's death, the loss of his
father, the death of his dreams... so much sorrow.  Perhaps the dog was right.
  "You know I speak the truth, Scarecrow.  Humans only fool themselves into
believing that life is not pain, because they are afraid of death.  You are
not afraid of death, Scarecrow.  There is only one way to escape Pain."
  The words echoed through Scarecrow's mind.  Only one way to escape pain.
Scarecrow stared down at the knife he had in his hand.  It would be so easy
to escape...
  Scarecrow looked up, and the hound seemed to fill the room.  "I am
everywhere, I am everything.  I am Pain!"
  Only one way to escape... Scarecrow looked down again at his knife, and
slowly raised it to his throat.  One way.
  And then Scarecrow remembered... there was still one way to accomplish his
dreams, one way to get what he wanted out of life.  One way that might lead
out of pain.
  "No!" Scarecrow shouted, and the magic that had almost succeded in
destroying him crumbled.  Pain only laughed.
  "This has been an interesting game, Scarecrow... but I have other things to
do.  Try to be content with this small victory... because I am eternal.  I
will always be there, Scarecrow.  Someday, I will win."
  With that, the hound trotted off to find other, easier, prey.  Scarecrow
sunk to the ground, drained.
  *It will never be over...* the voice of Pain echoed through Scarecrow's
mind, over and over again.