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The Spinning Wheel of Fate

by Manoftyr

Chapter 1 (2006)
Chapter 2 (2006)
Chapter 3 (2006)
Chapter 4 (2006)
Chapter 5 (2006)
Chapter 6 (2006)
Chapter 7 (2006)
Chapter 8 (2006)

Chapter 4

Chapter 3: A premonition of horror

"Truly, art the ninja and I so different?" I thought to mineself as't I re entered the chapel and retook mine seat beside Lord Edgar. The ceremony for Sir Strago was't to begin shortly but mine mind was't adrift on matters unrelated in nature, particularly on the matter of't Sir Shadow. I will admit that in times past I bore no liking for the Ninja, he struck mineself as't honorless and without conscience. I suppose upon reflection I had nary a right to judge, afterall I has't mine own tale gloom and tragic, of descent into darkness and hatred grown. For a time I was't nothing more then a slave to revenge, then'st a slave to self-hate so intense that'st drew the demon Wrexsoul, yet through it all I found the strength to rise above. The same can nay be said of't Sir Shadow but I am two decades or so his elder, however, it does't anger me some that he squanders what he still yet has't, for his daughter still lives, yet, I suppose he has his reasons.

Over to mine left I espied Sir Gau and Lady Relm sharing one another's company, and if my aging eyes nay deceive me then methinks I espied Lady Relm smiling, something she has't yet to do up until the moment, t'is heartwarming. On that note I must say I am impressed with Sir Gau's newfound maturity, may haps formal attire would'st be appropriate but progress is't progress nonetheless. Suddenly the Village Elder ascended the pulpit to begin the ceremony, and although honor would dictate my full attention I was somehow distracted.

What deeds I had'st done to hear their dreadful cries of death, with every Imperial head I took mine hate only grew leaving only one thing in my black bottomless pit of a soul... a desire for revenge. I sworeth upon the grave of't mine departed that until I found revenge I would'st feed mine sword in Imperial blood. T'is funny how'st I once thought that revenge would bring me consolation for all it brought me was't more hate which subsequently, and ironically, turned inward once their was't nowhere else at whom to point it... except mine self. This is where'st I see Sir Shadow for he is't the same sad and bitter man as't was't I, I will'st admit tha'st the pain of't Sir Shadow is't of't a different nature then the pain I had'st faced. Sir Shadow has't done truly terrible things, while it is't true I slew countless Imperials in mine quest of't revenge I nay once slit a throat in cold blood or robbed anyone of't their possessions. I suppose I have done all'st I can for Sir Shadow's truly troubled soul.

The Lady widowed of't Maranda still yet mourns her departed husband, I know this as't we have maintained contact through carrier pigeons, she recently asked of me to see her, and I have yet to write back as't I have not yet decided upon the nature of my reply. I must clear mine head, tis improper to pay any but mine full attention to the ceremony and I has't already drifted far to much in my thoughts then is prudent.


"NO! NO THIS CANNOT BE, I AM A GOD! I CANNOT BE DEFEATED!" my mind screamed out as that insolent peon of a ninja landed the killing blow.

My limbs and wings fell limp, and I was falling, plummeting through my tower as it crumbled around me. It was as if I was falling backwards and gazing upwards into my new world order, my accomplishments, my ascent into godhood crumbling around and on top of me as I continued falling through this meshing hell of crumbling debris. I was aware of nothing but my fall, and the crumbling, the infernal crumbling of everything around me, everything I had built all falling down with me down, down towards the ground on a dogged one track decent towards a sudden stop. As if on queue with my thoughts my descent was suddenly stopped by a hard unforgiving pile of debris of brick and steel all un naturally meshed together by my will, ironic that this would be my grave. I crashed backwards ripping my back out and shattering bone, then piles upon piles of debris crashed down onto me, blood backed up my throat and spewed out my mouth and nose as my lungs were crushed, and then my world faded to black.

Then, I heard the voices... but these weren't the normal voices I heard all the time, no... these were different, infernal, demonic, unintelligible whispering then a shrill piercing scream of unfathomable pitch and pure evil... it was as if I was in heaven. Suddenly I felt my form, *or my presence rather as all sense of form, self or un-self had faded away when my world turned black* violently seized and taken... somewhere. It is difficult to describe the sensation as it was not as if I was being taken down or up, left or right but... somewhere else I think is the closest I can come to describe it, it was as if I was not taken to a specific location in the traditional sense but rather "through" existence itself, truly a strange feeling I must say. After some period of time during this strange transition I suddenly had form again, but it was my old form, my old flawed and weak body of subtle human flesh and weakling bones. I would of shouted into the nothingness surrounding me to voice my displeasure with this but I couldn't move. I was floating through what seemed like ceaseless nether, if that makes any sense, there was blackness all around and I could see amorphous shadowy *things* weaving and flowing in jerked macabre motions through the darkness. These same shadow-things *which I will call them from this point on* seemed to be the ones carrying me through this endless black nether, or at least I thought it was endless.

I could still hear the same whispering, muttering and occasional high pitched screaming in my head, and it seemed to grow louder the deeper I was taken into this nether realm of sorts. Suddenly I was dropped but I didn't fall, I hung there, suspended in the nether when suddenly a figure emerged from the black... I would have gasped over struck with awe at the magnificence of this being but alas I was paralyzed. It was a huge manlike figure with skin like polished obsidian, and from it's back sprung two wings of fire, and it's face... it's face was entirely blank and featureless with no eyes, ears, mouth, nose, crevices or anything, it was akin to a blank slate of perfectly rounded, oval, stone. 'I' for the first time in my life felt insignificant, before this great monstrosity I was truly a puissant when suddenly I heard a voice in my head, deep, throaty, unmistakably masculine and entirely audible.

"Welcome... Kefka!" the deep and throaty voice resonated throughout the inside of my skull. "You can communicate with me through your thoughts, I have no need of such primitive entrapments as senses or speech," it continued as if reading my confusion, which I supposed it did.

"Why am I here?" I thought, which was met with a low bone rumbling chuckle.

"A good question," the voice responded.

"You were set on a course for Hades but I had my minions intercept your spiritual essence on it's voyage and bring you to my realm."

"Why?" I continued, not at all satisfied with his answer.

"Because, Kefka, you caught my interest, and I may have a use for you, tell me... are you aware of how your world was created?"

"I have a rough idea," I replied. "Basically these three goddesses showed up, and created man, esper, the world, and magic then they left these statues of themselves here and took off"

"A simple and shortened version, but more or less correct," was the reply of the entity.

"Now then, you attained your power from those statues, you managed to command and drain them... an impressive feat I must admit, and ever since then you've piqued my interest," it continued.

"That still doesn't tell me where you... or even 'I' fit into this," I asked.

Suddenly I awoke, barely stifling a terrible scream, I was still here, right beside the church. 'What the hell was that?!' I screamed in my head. It was a dream, a terrible, terrible dream in which I was not myself... I was Kefka, but it was deeper then just inhabiting his body. I thought his thoughts, I felt his feelings, I understood his insanity, I felt what it was like to be him, and not in any sort of superficial sense either... I felt his consciousness, I *was* his consciousness, and those things I saw and heard... I could make no sense of them. "Just a dream" I told myself calmly, it had to be... what else could it be? my body was cold and covered in sweat and I could feel myself trembling. I sat back against the wall, stared up into the sky and repeated in my head over and over:

"Kefka is dead. Kefka is dead."


'Dear god! he's droning oooon and oooon and ooooon' I thought to myself as the Elder continued with his booring rhetoric, saying things all of us already know. In front of me Celes and Locke were seated next to each other, Celes clutching his arm lovingly and somewhat possessively, lucky bastard that Locke, Celes' is so goddamned beautiful. Eh, there was no woman for me but Daryl anyway, no other woman on earth can keep me interested like she could, always challenging me and in my face, always looking to take and even bigger and dumber risk then I was, we could go on forever trying to outdo one another. Being an albino never stopped me from enjoying the sun and the breeze, that's why I always wear so many layers of thick clothes, sunburns a bitch when you have no melanin, I learned that the hard way when I was a kid.

Terra really looks lonely over in the 2nd row on the left by herself sitting behind Relm and Gau, I swear, that woman needs to get laid... I'd make a move myself if I wasn't so sure she was a dyke! hahahahahaha, I laugh at my own jokes even in my head. On the note of speculating about people's sexual orientations, I think Sabins gay, I've never seen him with a woman before and if he really is Edgar's opposite then I suppose it'd make sense, with him being such a womanizer and all. I can never talk like this in front of everyone else, they all have such sticks up their behinds except for maybe a couple of them, I mean, they are my friends and I care about them... but I miss having someone like Daryl to be able to talk nonsense like this to without getting the odd stares.

Looking in front of me, I can't help but feel like the traditional masculine/feminine male/female roles in your standard relationship have somehow been reversed with Locke and Celes. Celes definitely seems and acts like the guardian and the provider, and Locke is like... I can't even put my finger on what exactly he is but of course we are talking about the guy who stores corpses in basements. Jeez a therapist would have enough on him to justify an entire case study with whole teams of therapists psycho-analyzing the guy. I mean... just counting off the top of my head we have irrational behaviour, necrophiliac tendencies, bipolar disorder, emotional insecurity out the wazoo, and just overall psychological instability, and I'm probably still missing something in that mess.

What? Well it looks like everyone is getting up for some reason, I'll have to ask what's going on as I wasn't really paying attention...
Caves of Narshe: Final Fantasy VI
Version 6
©1997–2019 Josh Alvies (Rangers51)

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