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Chapter the Seventeenth - The Mind of the Enemy

The klaxon blared.

"Sir!" one of the younger boys of his retinue dashed through the corridors of the half-constructed palace. Rain splattered against the awnings above them. "Admiral Jake says the Blackjack's coming here!"

Gestahl yawned.

"That stupid flyboy," Kefka snapped. "Get the fleet back!"

"They can't, they're engaged with Espers and can't spare a ship!"

Kefka was red-faced. "What an idiot! Fine, the Returners think they can threaten me? I'll show them real power!"

As he stormed towards the Statues, Gestahl stirred in his throne. "How was my entire air force tricked?"

"Magical illusions and-" the aide gazed into the sky uneasily, "-some sort of decoy airship."

Gestahl's eyes narrowed. "That can't be all of it. "

"They split the fleet in half despite the Admiral's precautions, using one from the north to..."

As Gestahl listened to the report, he grew more energetic. By the time the aide finished, his fingers dug into the gold weaving of his throne. "The rebels know our operational procedures," the Emperor growled.

Their plan was deviously brilliant: multiple charades to confuse, co-ordination difficulties exploited with precision, and it was accomplished with meagre resources.

It was something she would do.

The aide swallowed. "Intelligence was worried about spies."

She was dead. It was a spy; it had to be a spy. Gestahl rose from his throne, his face burning with rage. "Major."

The commander of the Imperial Guard saluted, a dozen soldiers behind him. "All Armors mobile, anti-air batteries prepared. We've been trying to get grounded Sky Armors back in the sky. Unattached squads are currently digging positions at construction sites around the isl-"

"The Returners will come right here," Gestahl growled. "We have a spy amongst us."

"Sir?"

"It's the only explanation," he hollered over the roar of the storm. "I want my legions here!"

Within a minute, hundreds of soldiers assembled around the skeletal superstructure. Armors were hidden upon every floor, the tips of their cannons barely visible behind unfinished walls and piled construction materials. Archers lined the ramparts, but barricades would do little good against a flying enemy.

Fierce gusts tore the awnings away, heavy rain bombarding the exposed interiors of the palace. Guards wearing crimson-armor arrived, several holding Magitek rifles. They surrounded the Emperor and kept a watchful eye on the dark skies, awaiting the rebels to burst out of the churning clouds.

Gestahl shivered. He turned to his side, looking past the barricades, beyond the walls, and focused on the top of a cliff.

Like something she would do.

Propellers rose into sight and lifted the Blackjack over the rocky ridge. Her broadside faced them, gunports already open.

"Get down!" the Emperor bellowed.

Lightning erupted from the ship and twisted its way through Armors and men alike. Blinding strands of electricity rippled through dozens of the Empire's finest, dead long before their convulsing bodies hit the ground. Cannonfire accented the symphony of light, thundering as battlements exploded.

Caught completely off-guard, Armors tried to reposition. They were blasted apart as they did so, lightning and cannonball tearing through solid stone and shredding their limbs. Cranes toppled into the palace, collapsing the skeletal frame and taking with them dozens of Armors.

But those defending the Emperor did not give up so easily. A dozen Armors fired simultaneously, beams of spiralling infernos vaporizing debris and flying towards the Blackjack.

They disappeared.

Gestahl felt chills run down his back as numerous Armors opened fire. Liquid flames enveloped a thin shell around the Blackjack as she sailed over the palace. Lightning lashed down and cannons roared.

And as the superstructure collapsed around him, he saw her upon the bulwark.

"Celes," Gestahl whispered.

Her hair was fluttering in the wind, glowing-azure blade held out at her side. She stood unflinchingly as cannonballs exploded through the hull beside her, a symbol of bravery to rally around. Where she gazed, lightning followed. Where she gestured, men died.

A tear ran down his cheek.

-=-

Setzer started laughing again.

Edgar quickly grabbed the rigging as the Blackjack dipped, cannonballs flying over their heads while liquid flame splashed off her hull. He wiped the rainwater off his face and flinched as lightning flickered down from the heavens.

Celes was screaming orders and the crew did their best to keep up. Sabin was repositioning one of the elemental cannons, rain-slickened muscles gleaming with every blast of electricity.

Edgar slipped on the deck as Setzer pulled up. He barely grabbed a hold of the railing, hanging over the weatherdeck as they twisted and turned.

"You're going to kill us before she gets the chance!"

Setzer laughed harder.

-=-

"Isn't it fascinating how the Imperial Air Force is so massive? All of a sudden, they have more battleships in the air than I have at sea."

Celes was briefing the crew about their plan, her words as indisputable as a God's. With a sigh, Setzer turned around and scowled at Edgar's interruption.

"You're a smart man, Setzer. How's it possible that the Imperials have so many vessels in the air?"

"I wouldn't know," Setzer grumbled. "They've been around for the last few months, dogging my every flight."

"Ah yes, your precious skies. Yet none before then?"

"What are you getting at, Your Highness?"

"They weren't all built in a day; someone had to have commissioned them a year or two in advance. Curious, abruptly expanding the air force by such a margin... and with such auspicious timing too."

Setzer's mood darkened.

"Such expenditures must be limited to a select few. Who would have such free reign? Perhaps a newly promoted general, not from the ranks so they would have few budgeting commitm-"

"That's so farfetched it's downright impossible!" Setzer snapped.

The two men glanced around uneasily. But no one had noticed Setzer's outburst, their focus was on Celes.

"Well, once we're on the Floating Continent, what do you think her she's really planning?"

"Wha-?" Setzer's mind drew a blank.

"Say she succeeds: she kills Gestahl and what's left of the Empire's leadership. What happens next?"

"She returns to the Empire-"

"To a civil war? Rise from the ashes of death coincidentally after the Emperor's killed in battle?"

"You think she's afraid to break a few eggs?"

"You think she's too stupid to plan ahead?"

Setzer recalled Celes' plan for the Triumph. He narrowed his eyes. "Okay, now I'm listening."

"We both know she's not branded a traitor. Gestahl would've had enough trouble maintaining order after the Triumph, he wouldn't dare reveal the truth."

Setzer knew that the Emperor had publicly shed tears for Celes, who died heroically trying to save Leo from the burning palace. "Go on."

"So, the Returners are still blamed, aren't we?"

"Yeah," Setzer growled.

"And after the Emperor's death, what would be more perfect to return to Vector with, but the heads of those who tried once before? Of course, she'd need more than just us... perhaps someone who helped defeat the air force and assault the island?"

Setzer's knuckles were white, his fists clenched and shaking. "She did order the airships," he hissed. "She expanded the air force purposefully."

"And gone is your freedom, until she comes along with a carrot to dangle."

Setzer cleared his throat. "So, why are you still here?"

"You must risk big in order to win big."

"Good words to live by."

Edgar raised an eyebrow. "She's already lost once against the Emperor. This time, she expects artillery support from your ship. But even then, she'll push her limits fighting Gestahl, won't she? Even if she kills him..."

"-you'll never fear the Empire again!" Celes suddenly shouted. The crew of the Blackjack cheered in response.

Setzer watched the lady general in her element, basking in the glory of bloodthirsty men. So she was going to play him, was she?

"I'm in."

-=-

Thunder roared and lightning struck, but for once, it was not the Blackjack.

"Boss, the storm!"

Ropes of lightning tore into the Floating Continent, lashing around and through the palace's steel frame. Rain battered the deck of the Blackjack as she twisted once more, evading blast after blast of angry flames. Gusts of wind intensified, sending the ship into a sudden spin.

"Setzer!" Edgar shouted as he held on for his life.

The Captain of the Blackjack cackled maniacally, his beady eyes ensuring Edgar knew his next move was intentional.

He let go of the wheel.

The Blackjack twisted and spun through the sky, lightning and cannon still erupting relentlessly. Celes screamed orders from the prow of the vessel, balanced upon the bulwark without a hint of fear.

"You're insane!" Edgar screamed.

Setzer laughed. "Next stop, the Floating Palace!" he grabbed the spinning wheel and held it fast. Torrents of wind tore men off their feet and sent them flying off the vessel. Imperial cannonfire exploded through the hull and splinters shredded unlucky sailors.

Celes stood unflinchingly as the vessel collapsed around her. Her hair whipped back and forth with enough force to lash men to death, but she held on as they plummeted out of the sky.

And with a shudder, they stopped.

"General!" Setzer shouted.

The Blackjack hovered inches from the ground, cannons still trading blasts with numerous Imperial battlements from all sides. Rising plumes of black smoke were torn aside by the stormy gusts for Edgar to see:

They were before the palace's stairway.

Celes lifted her blade into the sky. A bolt of lightning erupted from the clouds and lashed into her, but as tendrils of electricity flickered and sparked away, they could see her eyes glow with power. She turned to the bridge, a deadly glare reminding them of the consequences of failure.

Edgar, still hanging off the gangway, watched as her gaze softened.

Locke stood tall, rainwater splattering off his soaked and torn blue jacket. He whispered to her, but Edgar couldn't read his lips.

Black leather-armored soldiers rappelled off the side of the ship as the cargo doors burst open. Two Magitek Armors stormed out, blasts of blue flame announcing their presence.

Without another word, Celes leapt off the ship.

And yet again you still keep the action going in yet another chapter.

I have been reading this uh Funfic, for awile now, and its really interesting, exciting, and well theres alot of back stabbing in it.

I cant wait until the next chapter, keep up the good work!

--------------------

Kel'Thuzad: She is persistent. Reminds me of you, death knight.

Arthas:Shut up you damned ghost.

-Warcraft III Kel'thuzad comparing Arthas and Sylvanas Windrunner.

To be honest, I didn't really want to keep the action continuous for this long, but couldn't really see a way around it. Edgar needed exposition and Celes' battle plan was complex. Ah well...

Chapter the Eighteenth - A Hurricane of Emotion

They hit the muddy ground with a splash, rolling through craters left behind from the onslaught of artillery. Soldiers in black leather -- Special Forces utterly devoted to their General -- loosed a volley of arrows. Ferocious gusts blew many aside, yet some still pierced soft, yielding flesh.

Celes landed on flash-frozen mud. A gloved hand brushed specks of dirt off her brilliant white cape as the ground began to harden. She frowned disapprovingly at the water dripping off her gloves.

"Stabilize the ship!" Edgar shouted as he kept an eye on Celes. "I can't maintain a firing solution if we're shaking!"

An explosion ripped through the bulwark and sent Edgar scrambling for safety. The cannon beside them was blasted backwards while her gun-crew fell to the ground screaming for their lost limbs. Splinters shredded their skin and their insides spilled onto the deck.

"Stabilize? We're being attacked by artillery!" Setzer scrambled over the gangway as the ship rocked from another explosion. He started screaming orders at the boys hanging off the swaying masts.

"Edgar, get down!"

Edgar hit the deck with a splash, tasting rainwater as Sabin pressed his face against the planks. The heat of an explosion scorched his rear and bits of wood bounced off his back. Fires were spreading throughout the ship by the time Edgar got back up.

The rain had stopped.

Setzer sprinted to the bridge with cordage between the teeth, and more wrapped around the wrists. "I want us off the ground!"

Edgar spun around. "We can't leave! Celes needs us to cover her!"

"Forget that insan-"

"She'll think we're betraying her!" Edgar pointed at the lady casually slicing apart Magitek Armors. "Without us, she won't go after Gestahl and that means we lose everything."

Setzer bit his tongue and gestured south instead: an airship was approaching, smoke trailing from its engines.

"That's it?" Edgar wiped his cheek when he felt something cold stick to it.

Cold?

Edgar glanced up. The dark clouds were dotted by millions upon millions of tiny white flecks.

-=-

Twin Magitek Armors marched through the fresh snow, defiant bursts of sapphire flame striking down their stalwart brothers while Celes held back the pitiful counter-fire. Her strike teams were already taking the battlements, cannons turned back on the very palace they were supposed to protect. The old man had lost this time.

Snow whipped into her face.

Celes spun around, face red with rage as she watched the Blackjack lifting off amidst flashes of lightning.

"General?"

"Edgar," Celes hissed. Her eyes glowed as a wave of flame splashed over them. Snow vaporized as she gestured back at the Magitek Armor, icy spikes tearing through the ground and impaling the machine. Black oil leaked out of its wounds as the Armor collapsed.

The Blackjack accelerated higher in the sky, barely visible through the gusts of snow. A roar of thunder accompanied the churning storm clouds, still dark despite the white blanket it spewed forth.

"Colonel," Celes growled. "Prepare to dig in. We're holding position."

A gloved hand pointed through the thickening blizzard. "This layout's identical to Vector's. We should retreat east," the Colonel suggested.

"Make it happen," Celes ordered as she launched a red flare into the sky. Artillery thundered in response to her signal, commandeered cannons blasting away with twice the vigour as before. They had to, for they were no longer supported by the broadsides of the Blackjack.

Their enemies knew this as well. The Imperial Guard swarmed out of the palace by the hundreds, Magitek Armors and cannons close behind. Explosions blanketed Celes' forces as arrows innumerable fell upon them, cutting through armor and tearing into flesh. Armors attacked together, a colossal wall of flame that broke against Celes' will.

Her forces returned fire, cannons blasting apart the exposed Armors and arrows loosed the moment the wall of flame dissipated.

Celes felt an arrow split her cheek open. She wiped her face and stared at the bloodstained glove. Thunder roared above her, but it was not the storm.

Live, Edgar. Live so I may throttle you myself.

-=-

Edgar scrambled to the bridge, arm across his face as vicious gusts whipped snow into his eyes. Lightning flickered past and scorched the Blackjack's hull. Snow piled atop of the treacherous decks, slippery with half-frozen puddles.

"It's just one damn frigate!" Edgar shouted over the ship's groans as she lifted higher into the sky.

Setzer gestured south. "A frigate doesn't involve itself in battle. Don't you know anything about manoeuvres?"

"Do you?" Edgar snapped over the roar of thunder. Another flash of lightning reflected off millions of snowflakes and blinded them from all directions.

"Tiny ships don't retreat alone! It's either leading the fleet or-"

A gust of wind blasted aside the curtains of snow. To their port: the shape of a ship twice their size, fifty muzzles glinting at them.

"The Emperor's Will," Edgar whispered in horror.

She roared.

The deck exploded apart, smoke engulfing them as ice and wood flew everywhere. Blood splattered onto snow-covered planks as shotboxes detonated. Men who avoided cannonballs tearing through their bodies were shredded apart by the debris as the Blackjack's ammunition stores exploded.

Setzer pushed Edgar aside as masts fell, crashing through the broken weatherdeck and then thrown aside by the gusts. Sailors fell off the ship as she pitched, the Emperor's Will pouring broadside after broadside of artillery fire into a crippled Blackjack.

A cannonball exploded through the deck, splinters lashing Edgar's chainmail as he was blasted away. His heart skipped a beat: he was falling through the stormy sky.

Yura grabbed him by the arm, dislocating it with his immense strength. The Esper roared, throwing Edgar back into the ship.

"Hold fast."

A tempest began to swirl around the ship. Setzer slipped on a patch of ice and slammed headfirst into the bulwark as the Blackjack was lifted by a cyclone. Gripping onto frozen ropes, his hair whipped across his face as he glanced into the snowsquall.

"Lady Luck be damned."

Four tornados churned out of the clouds above and twisted through the Emperor's Will, shearing the vessel with ease. Sailors were blown overboard as if they were specks of dust. The ship splintered apart, fingers of an angry god sinking into her hull and tearing her into thousands of pieces.

The snowstorms took on a life of their own, twisted tempests engulfing the men falling through the sky. Curtains of snow passed between them and the sinking carcass of the Emperor's Will, and just beyond her:

Another battleship.

"Yura!" Edgar screamed as the newcomer sailed through the debris. He braced himself for another onslaught when a shadow passed over him. He looked up.

It was the Leo Christophe.

The thunder of cannonade threw Setzer into the wheel. Blood rained overhead as one of his officers was blown apart; a torn limb catching him across the face. Masts and sails came crashing down as the deck collapsed, blasted into rubble by a third Imperial warship. The dark shadow of their pursuer hovered above them and cried for vengeance.

A cannonball tore Yura in two. His blood splattered across Edgar's frozen face as Setzer desperately threw lever after lever. The Blackjack shuddered and began to ascend, thick black knots of smoke trailing out of her many wounds while her hapless crew fell into the snowstorm.

"Setzer, you're taking us into the blizzard!" Sabin dashed across the burning deck, a fistful of rope in one hand as he grabbed his screaming brother. "We won't survive that!"

Setzer gritted his teeth as both Imperial vessels thundered, a hundred cannons putting holes in his ship and killing his crew. He could hear sails crashing onto his bridge, and with one eye on the instrument panel and the other on the deadly cyclones ahead, a low chuckle escaped his bloody lips.

"Are you insane?" Sabin screamed as a shower of splinters nearly took off his head. He pointed ahead. "You'll kill us all!"

Setzer laughed manically.

With two Imperial battleships in hot pursuit, a crippled Blackjack accelerated into the center of four tornadoes.

-=-

Silence.

Despair seized her as the abrupt absence of rhythmic thunderclaps finally sank in. Even if they fought through the sea of brown leather, she was still alone in her struggle against Gestahl; none of her soldiers could threaten him and Yura was upon the Blackjack.

Worse, she knew her forces were thinning out. Though she advanced fearlessly through the hail of swords, arrows and flames, her soldiers could not. The lucky ones were killed in a blast of magical inferno, painless in comparison to those who would bleed agonizingly to death.

A burst of flame nearly vaporized her arm.

With a revitalizing cry, Celes charged up the ruined stairs. A volley of icicles tore through her foes as she carved a bloody path through her enemies. Soldiers or Armors, it made no difference to her.

Everything died in a hail of metal and ice.

And then her sword was blocked; her magic rebuffed. Brown leather gave way to flowing red capes: the Emperor's elite bodyguards. Their blades clashed with hers, neither side giving ground. Yet there were a dozen surrounding her and behind them were countless more Imperial Guardsmen.

"Surrender or die!" their commander demanded.

Only two still stood beside Celes. The gore-covered men made their choice without hesitation.

"Glory to th-!"

Their battle-cries were cut short as thin bursts of light vaporized their chests. Even before their limbs landed in the snow, Magitek rifles were trained once more upon Celes.

"Steel or magic, you can only block one," the commander's blade glinted from a flash of lightning as he lowered to a fighting stance. "Drop your sword, Miss Chere."

Celes' grip tightened. She had lost.

Again.

"Edgar," Celes hissed. The Returners had cost her everything.

"I won't ask again," the commander unsheathed a second blade. "Surrender or die."

Celes closed her eyes, a single tear trickling down her cheek as she did so. "Fine," she whispered.

She brandished her sword.

"Let's make this quick."

Why do I have a feeling that despite it starting to get incredibly fun this is only the middle? Great stuff as always. I especially enjoyed the airship battles. Dogfights are always fun, even between flying battleships.

--------------------

"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.

Thanks Del. I guess it's kinda obvious by now that Heart of Ice is attempting to follow the original plot in its own weird, twisted fashion. :)

Chapter the Nineteenth - Twisted Fates

Angry dark clouds spewed forth a white blanket to suffocate the world. Thunder roared as lightning lashed across the entire Floating Continent, innumerable flashes of electricity leaving their marks upon the unholy island.

Gusts of wind brought the smell of charred flesh to his nose. His feet waded through a lake of fresh blood. That so many of his finest had made the ultimate sacrifice did not dawn upon him. He was oblivious to all save one sensation: a sense of purpose that inundated his very soul.

The sea of soldiers parted aside.

"Let's make this quick."

It was her voice -- that sweet, clipped tone rife with strength and confidence, yet tempered by just a hint of dread.

Thin elemental beams erupted and splattered upon a yellow aura; demons of lightning, ice and fire twisting around an impenetrable shield searching for any weakness. As the runes of her sword glowed with power, five polished blades pierced her magical defences.

"Stop!" he hollered.

Swords halted in mid-air and Magitek rifles fell silent. Many of the blades had already sliced through her armor; their sharp points pressed against supple skin.

"Defiant until the very end. I knew it was you."

All eyes turned to the Emperor as he strolled through the ring of elite bodyguards surrounding Celes. He brushed away the snowflakes sitting pristinely upon his royal silks.

"Come to gloat one last time?"

Gestahl sighed wistfully. Despite her bitterness, a smile graced his wrinkled face as he eyed her from head to toe.

"I've missed you, Celes," he replied warmly.

Celes was shocked, and that hurt more than her barbs or attacks ever did. It was his fault. He had never treated her with the love he professed, nor told her what she meant to him.

"It is a blessing that you survived," Gestahl whispered as a tear ran down his frost-covered cheek. "The Goddesses have smiled upon me at last."

Rune-entwined metal still separated them, but he had expected her resistance.

"No more mistakes! No more games!" Gestahl continued. "You are my daughter-"

"I don't-"

"-and my Empire is yours."

Silence hung in the air, a thousand men exchanging thoroughly confused expressions. But none could match the bewildered look on Celes' face.

"What?" she whispered.

"You will be crowned Empress and I shall step aside, nothing more than a shadow of the past. I will give you everything. All I ask..." Gestahl's throat felt parched. "All I want is your forgiveness."

Celes narrowed her eyes.

"Forgive me for my sins against you. I only wanted to give you the best, I..." Gestahl felt short of breath, but he willed himself to continue. "I only wanted you to be happy, my daughter."

"You never cared before."

"I never knew myself. But I have changed," Gestahl took a deep breath and opened his arms. "Please, can you find it in your heart to forgive a foolish old man?"

Surrounded by hundreds of soldiers, alone and exhausted, Celes stood before the Emperor in his naked grief. An equally warm smile graced her face, eyes softening as she lowered her sword.

"Of course, father."

-=-

"There's our opening!" Edgar screamed as the ship pitched over. He gripped his telescope desperately as he fell into Sabin.

Men were hurled into snow-filled sky as the Blackjack dived around a cyclone. The trio of airships twisted through the center of four raging tornadoes, cannonfire a dull roar compared the tempest encircling them. Sails were torn away as the Blackjack skimmed too close to the voracious forces of nature, trying desperately to avoid another broadside of Imperial wrath.

"Setzer!" Edgar shouted as Sabin held both him and the elemental cannon. Explosions engulfed the broadside of the Blackjack as the Leo Christophe cut across their bow, every gun ablaze.

"Forget steady; just make it predictable!"

Setzer hung from the wheel, the planks beneath him reduced to rubble. He swung aside and ditched his shredded coat. "You've got one shot, make it count!" he yelled as he drew his knife, slid beneath a wooden beam, and sliced apart a cluster of ropes.

The Blackjack fell.

Tears ran freely as wind and snow whipped into Edgar's eyes. His telescope was trained unerringly upon their target below.

"Three degrees lower!"

Sabin grunted as he repositioned the cannon alone. "Where's Locke when you need him?" he grumbled.

"On my mark!" Edgar snapped.

And as the Blackjack plummeted through the sky -- pursued by the thunderous onslaught of Imperial battleships -- Celes and Gestahl entered Edgar's sights.

They were embracing.

Edgar sneered in disgust. She had once again deceived, manipulated and betrayed them all. His telescope panned over to her rune-covered sword. It was upon the ground, covered with snow and very far out of reach.

He grinned.

"Fire!"

And he was bathed in light.

-=-

Relief was accompanied by a warm, glowing sense of victory. And as Celes felt her hands sink into chilly layers of soft, luscious Imperial silk, a triumphant smile spread across her blood-splattered face.

It was over. She had won.

It had cost her greatly in both mind and body, but she had come out on top. No more pretending to be what she was not. No more scheming in order to achieve her will. No more pathetic grovelling to those who profitted from her many sacrifices.

At long last, she had the authority and power to match her dreams. Now, it was their turn to quiver in fear.

The ground trembled.

Blinding white light washed over them as a beam erupted from the center of the Floating Palace. It blasted away the tornadoes, the blizzard, even the clouds as it tore a hole in the sky. The storm followed its trail, snow swirling into the air and wind tearing them off their feet.

Soldiers, artillery pieces and Armors were ripped off the ground as Celes held onto Gestahl. They alone stood firm, even the Emperor's bodyguards were torn away by the sudden cyclone.

All save one.

Of all of the Empire's finest, he withered the storm. Wind wretched his crimson mask away while his cape disappeared into the sky. Past his scowling face fluttered flakes of snow, as white as his hand clutching a Magitek rifle in a death grip.

Locke Cole.

-=-

The blast of energy streaked past the Blackjack and sliced an Imperial airship in half. The vessel splintered apart -- flames engulfing its hull as ammunition stores exploded. Tornadoes descended like vultures, tearing her apart and casting the broken hull towards the world below.

And into the Blackjack.

Sabin held onto his brother as the vessels collided, debris tearing through their ship and ripping through the engines.

It was over.

He grabbed the guardrails as an explosion broke the Blackjack in two, his stomach lurching as the ship buckled and twisted. Edgar vanished from sight as Sabin struggled to hold onto what remained of the dying vessel.

They were dead.

Sabin instinctively caught the backpack thrown at him. He glanced through the falling debris.

"The cord!" Setzer shouted. "I'll go after Edgar!"

And then he too disappeared in a hail of burning wreckage.

-=-

Kefka laughed as the light faded away. The Statues had responded to his call, power beyond imagination emanating from the deities.

And they were all his.

"Again!" he chortled with glee. "More power! More rage! More divine judgement!"

-=-

The second blast of energy smashed through the Blackjack, annihilating the vessel before penetrating the blizzard's core. Dark, angry storm clouds were lit from within, and then exploded apart as a shockwave tore through the sky.

Yet still, Celes kept her eyes on him.

Locke glared back, anger masking the pain of betrayal. He searched, but there was not even a hint of guilt on her face. Promises meant nothing to her. All she wanted was power.

Well so be it.

Locke brought the Magitek Rifle up. He hesitated for one last moment, eyes flickering to the sword lying far out of her reach.

Celes' smile twisted into a sneer.

He pulled the trigger.

-=-

Celes could feel moisture seeping through the gashes in her armor. Gestahl's tears of joy had kept him oblivious of all that had happened.

The old man had finally lost his mind.

She suppressed a giggle as Locke fruitlessly pulled the trigger again and again. Her eyes glowed just slightly, smile widening as he stepped back in fear.

"I forgive you," Celes whispered without releasing Locke from her gaze.

"Thank you," Gestahl sobbed.

Her knife glided through the Emperor's back and into his heart. Warm blood spilled through her hands as she twisted the blade. She took a step back, basking in the look of shock upon his face.

"Why?" Gestahl gasped.

Celes retrieved her sword. She spoke loud enough for Locke to hear her:

"Because I promised. Goodbye, father."

And with one hand, Celes decapitated the Emperor.

His head rolled off through the snow, but neither witness noted such a minute detail. Instead, their eyes were locked on each other.

"You going to kill me as well?" Locke growled.

Blood was still dripping off her blade as she strolled up to him. He made no attempt to escape, as resigned to his fate as he was. He did not even flinch when she grabbed a fistful of his crimson tunic and pulled him close.

"Idiot," Celes flicked a switch on the side of the rifle. "It's called a safety."

The look on his face was priceless. Celes giggled despite herself.

"I don't understand you," Locke whispered.

"Well that makes tw-" Celes cut herself off.

Locke's face was bathed in white light.

"Get down!" Celes threw Locke to the ground and brought her sword up protectively.

An earthquake shook the island as another blast of light erupted from the center of the Floating Palace. The beam filled her world, divine magic overwhelming her soul and tearing her senses apart.

Everything went white.

Celes never felt her feet leave the ground, but as the light faded, she could see frost-covered pebbles lying inches away. Her ears were ringing and warm blood was dripping off her forehead. She desperately tried to stand, but her muscles failed her and she landed back in the rubble. Rolling onto her back and into a puddle of melted snow, she tried to catch her breath.

Kefka.

With a groan, Celes willed herself up. Her head pounded and the world was swimming in and out of focus. Ignoring the dizziness, her eyes searched the wreckage. Ice water was dripping off half-frozen arches, but nothing else was moving. She was alone.

Her eyes drifted down to her hands, still clenched around a demure piece of crimson-coloured cloth. Her grip tightened.

Kefka.

so much betrayal (or in some cases, what was thought to be betrayal but really wasn't), i had to read it through a couple times. lots of action, can't wait to see what happens next.

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Currently Playing : Final Fantasy V
Most Recently Beat : Elder Scrolls: Skyrim
Favorite Game : Final Fantasy X

The newest CoNcast is up! Have a listen!

Chapter the Twentieth - The Witch and the Thief

"The Espers just fired again!"

Swearing beneath his breath, Jake dashed onto the bridge and barely avoided a piece of flaming wreckage. "Help me with this!" he cried as he and another sailor heaved the dead helmsman off the wheel.

"We can't level off!" screamed the First Lieutenant.

Jake wiped the blood off his face. "Pitch forward three degrees, lose the topgallant royal," he shouted as he grabbed the spinning wheel. "And get that mainsail back up, dammit! If those Espers get another shot, we're sunk!"

The Leo Christophe continued to dive, hull aflame with trails of black smoke leaking out of her many wounds.

"Secondary generator's gone!" an engineer screamed from below. "Main generator's in the red, we can't put out the fires!"

Jake gritted his teeth. He glanced around the burning bridge. Bodies were everywhere, impaled by the debris of both their sister airship and the Blackjack.

"Dammit," the First Lieutenant collapsed to the ground, his uniform thoroughly soaked in blood. The radio microphone fell out of his hand. "Reinforcements not forthcoming, sir. They're too yellow to rescue the Emperor."

Jake nodded solemnly. "Traitors, leaving our Lord to the whims of Espers."

"Admiral, over half the guns are loaded. This isn't over yet!"

With a grim smirk, Jake turned to the chief and his sailors. "Well, we know what to do, don't we?"

And they did. This was, after all, his ship. Trained under his tutelage since the foundation of the Imperial Air Force, the crew of the Leo Christophe were extensions of their Admiral's will.

Pieces of the hull were stripped away by turbulence as she accelerated, sails bending back from the sheer velocity. The falling battleship spiralled through the sky and pointed itself towards the center of the Floating Palace.

-=-

Kefka's laughter ended with a shiver down his spine, eyes reluctantly drifting upward at the source of thunder.

An airship plummeted out of the heavens, her broadside ablaze with fire as cannons screamed with rage. The ground was smashed into rubble and the half-constructed palace completely demolished. Explosions blanketed the Holy Trinity, fire and smoke consuming Kefka's vision.

But he had grown beyond mortal senses.

"Fools!" Kefka gestured and the Statues responded. Energy erupted from the trio, rippling forth as waves of light that tore through the airship. As her hull fractured apart, cannons thundered one last time. Then it vanished in a curtain of flame, a thousand sailors silenced with a single thought.

He laughed.

Pieces of burning wreckage smashed through the palace's metal frame. His vanquished enemies were falling upon him: a rain of ash and blood. A rain of victory.

His laughter was never-ending.

"Silence!"

A steel beam exploded through the wall of falling debris, smashing into Kefka and sending him flying through the air. He landed with a grunt, rolling down a hill and into a frozen corpse.

"I hate these things," Kefka muttered as he brushed icy pedals off his clothes. He stood tall in a field of unnatural flowers and lifeless bodies, the Statues perched above him upon a hilltop.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blur of blue hair and milky skin.

So, it was her.

He twisted around, green light shooting from his fingertips as a shockwave of energy erupted from the Trinity, shearing through the palace ruins. Both spells hit her at the same time, but instead of a yellow shield, she simply faded out of existence.

Uh oh.

Her fist caught Kefka across the face, fresh blood splattering over the field of corpses as Celes wrapped her hands around his neck.

"Clown," Celes hissed. Blood-slickened fingers pressed deeper into his throat.

"Witch," Kefka sneered as light danced between his hands.

An explosion separated the two, smashing them through the rubble of the palace. Both stumbled to their feet, blasts of crimson flames and icy blazes exchanged with neither side yielding.

Maniacal laughter echoed as an inferno erupted through Kefka and towered over Celes.

"Again?" Celes remarked as she eyed the wall of liquid flame. She held up her pale hands.

A blade of ice burst from each arm, both sparkling with the light of hellfire.

Kefka slammed the curtain of fire into her, but his eyes widened as she effortlessly broke out of the liquid inferno. Clusters of icicles sent him scurrying aside.

"You're just a lapdog, Kefka!"

A blast of icy mist nearly sliced off his arm.

"You can't hide in Gestahl's shadow anymore!"

Sapphire flames licked at his heels as he scrambled back up the hill. He ducked just beneath a swipe of her blade, tripped on a patch of ice, and slid on his back until he slammed against cold, rigid stone. Groaning in pain, he pushed himself off the ground and rested against unyielding granite.

Celes towered over him with glinting blades of ice. Her eyes glowed crimson.

"Aimless, toothless, and dumber than a pile of bricks. You're nothing compared to me."

Kefka chuckled.

"Fitting, for you to die laughing." Celes remarked as she brought her blades down.

Water splashed off Kefka's neck.

Recovering immediately from the loss of her swords, a blast of sapphire flame rippled from her hands. Her eyes narrowed as the icy inferno disappeared just shy of Kefka.

"Now who's dumb?" Kefka pointed at the Statue he was leaning against.

The glow above the frozen God rippled over her. A beam of holy energy tore through Celes and blasted her into the sky.

Kefka thrust both hands out.

The world trembled as all three Statues responded, blinding white light erupting from the center of the Trinity. It swatted Celes out of mid-air and smashed her into the ground. Fireballs rose into the sky and earthquakes split the earth as the beam drilled her through the crust and deep into the foundation of the unholy island. Layer after layer of solid stone was her body broken against, and after what seemed like eternity, the blinding white light disappeared. Tendrils of holy energy still flickered about, thick plumes of black smoke rising from the rivers of molten rock that her prone form rested within.

"Magic doesn't work between the Statues," Kefka lectured as he strutted confidently into the crater. He watched her with an amused smile -- she was pathetically clawing her way out of the lava -- and slowed down to a leisurely pace so he could truly enjoy the moment.

"Then again," Kefka mused as she pulled herself out of the molten lake, "you're nothing more than an Esper, and you know what we do with them."

Celes' face was matted with blood, skin blackened and flaking off as she lay upon a broken arm. Ashes rained down upon her as she struggled to breathe. Her defiant glare weakened, hair fading back to its natural colour as her grip on life diminished.

"Let me show you what real power is," Kefka's eyes twinkled. "Let's see that smirk when I remake the world in my own image! Goddesses!" he raised his arms and turned around. "I command-!"

A Magitek Armor loomed over him.

-=-

"Not a Goddess," Locke growled from the cockpit.

The Armor's claw batted Kefka aside, sending him flying through the rubble. A blast of fire spiralled after him and melted a tunnel through the wreckage.

"Just a treasure hunter trying to keep his word!"

A blade of light sheared through the Magitek Armor's right shoulder, but still it lumbered onward. Bursts of flame showered Kefka's position as Locke drove the war machine through a hail of spell-fire. Metal plating was ripped into shreds and lightning tore through multiple pistons as the Armor's left claw slammed a flailing Kefka into the ground.

"But you damned Imperials-" Locke slammed Kefka through a marble column, "-just keep getting in the fucking way!"

Metal bubbled and every meter was in the red, but Locke's finger bore down on the trigger. Blast after blast of angry red flame erupted from the elemental cannon. Kefka's screams were drowned out by the roar of the inferno devouring metal, stone and flesh.

A beam of light engulfed the war machine. Locke dived out of the exploding cockpit, rolling to his feet as he drew his knives.

Kefka was still standing, wobbling on his feet with a scowl plastered across his face. Rivulets of blood ran down his cheeks and spilled over his burned and tattered clothes. His eyes were a beady-red.

"I hate you!"

"The feeling's mutual," Locke snapped as he whipped his knife and split open Kefka's cheek. With a cry, Locke charged.

"I really hate, hate-"

Locke threw up his hands as he crashed into a wave of fire. His stolen armor began to melt, crimson tunic burning, and the heat so ferocious that he collapsed to his knees. The world began to swim as Locke cried out in pain.

"-hate you!"

And as Kefka raised his arms with the light of the Statues behind him, she rose to her feet and blocked that holy glow. Blade of ice extended from her unbroken arm, Celes drove it deep into his neck. Flesh froze on contact, immobilizing Kefka's body and mind.

Her fist shattered his spine.

The ice blade -- still jutting out of Kefka's neck -- liquefied. They both collapsed to the ground, one dead, and the other well on her way.

-=-

Celes coughed, regretting it instantly as every single nerve in her body flared in pain. She was bobbing up and down, surely it would have been nauseating if she hadn't been so busy trying to stay conscious.

Slowly, but surely, strength seeped back into her limbs. As her eyes opened, the twinkling of the stars greeted her return to the world of life.

"Locke," she knew it was him carrying her.

"Yeah?"

"Put me down."

Locke chuckled softly.

"What are you laughing about?" Celes growled.

"Oh... just how stupid it was to expect a thank you. I never learn."

"I'm dying, you fool."

"You'll be fine. I did what I could-"

"What did you use?" Celes grumbled as she examined the bandages around her arms and abdomen. "Did you rip apart the tunic you just stole?"

"-and Fenrir will be here soon," Locke ignored her with a unwavering smile.

She eyed him for a second, wondering whether he had hit his head a few times too many. "You certainly have a lot of faith in them. Is that why you're carrying me? Because then I'll owe you?"

"I'm doing this because I want to." Locke shook his head and chuckled again. "I guess I'm not the only one who never learns."

Celes glared at him.

"Idiot."

-=-

Fenrir did arrive, though it was only him and the cat-like Esper. Celes watched them apprehensively, wondering how many of her brethren had survived.

"Terra."

Celes suppressed a groan as she straightened. Her breaths were still laboured; Locke had given her time to heal by distracting Kefka, but it had been nowhere near enough. She felt pains throughout her body and despite Locke's efforts, there were many untreated injuries.

But at least she was standing on her own.

"We are avenged, brother," Celes' voice was forcefully steady. "The Emperor and his dog will never threaten us again."

Fenrir's smile was a toothy grin. It was then that she noticed the Esper's injuries. Its grey fur had hidden most of its wounds, but a missing fang was too conspicuous.

"We shall return the Statues back to our realm. Stray, see that the Trinity remains undisturbed."

The cat nodded and strutted away.

"Where is Yura?"

Celes shook her head. "Probably aboard the Blackjack when it was destroyed. I'm sorry."

Fenrir nodded sagely, its eyes reflective with the wisdom of many centuries. "We have all sacrificed much this day and though his loss pains us all, we may rest easy knowing that the Statues continue to slumber."

"I can't imagine what would've happened had we not intervened," Celes shook her head. Though she had defeated her greatest enemies, now her brethren were decimated. The road ahead would be a difficult one.

"Surely, the Censants will blossom," Fenrir intoned.

Celes allowed herself the luxury of a smile.

"We're falling," Locke announced. "It's been getting faster too. We don't have much time left."

Celes didn't answer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see familiar shapes scrambling through the debris. Instantly, her smile turned deadly.

So they survived.

Though she was still basking in the glory of victory, Celes' mind was already planning her next conquest. It would be a short one -- Edgar and his little band of conspirators could not hope to defeat her -- but she would savour the moment nonetheless.

Her slowly eyes drifted to meet Locke's. His piercing gaze bore into the depths of her soul, deep brown eyes conveying what words could never hope to achieve.

"Fenrir," Celes abruptly turned to the giant wolf. "Everyone who fought with us, they deserve a reward for their bravery."

"Wha-?" Locke's surprised grunt only made her devilish smile grow wider.

"And where would you like me to send them?"

Celes spun on her heel, ignoring the pain as she did so. She chuckled when she saw Edgar and Setzer freeze in their tracks. Their arms were filled with machine parts -- they were completely at her mercy and they knew it.

"You're a telepath, aren't you?" she asked as she watched them take cover frantically.

A pause. "Yes," Fenrir admitted.

"I thought so," Celes laughed lightly. "Just send them anywhere they want to be."

-=-

An odd feeling ran down his spine and suddenly, Locke realized that his friends were no longer upon the island. He folded his arms and glared at Celes suspiciously. "That was awfully nice of you."

She turned back around, brow furrowed in confusion. "Fenrir, didn't I say-"

The wolf began to stalk away before she finished. "Stray requires my assistance, the Trinity has been disturbed more than we anticipated. I will return."

Locke's suspicions grew as he watched Celes' face go red. "What?"

She spun away in a huff. "I don't understand you."

Locke kept quiet; the awkward silence seemed oddly fitting. Instead, he watched her gore-covered form amidst the broken ruins of the Floating Palace. He wondered whether the bandages would hold -- he had left his pack on the Blackjack and had to manage with what little he had. Without alcohol or sterile bandages, it would be awful if she survived such grievous injuries to succumb to infection or disease. Locke hoped that the Emperor's bodyguards kept their clothes clean.

The Emperor...

"You're going back to Vector," Locke accused.

Celes didn't respond immediately, her concentration was on the night sky. "Of course," she answered at last. "Don't act like that's surprising."

"But... why?"

She turned around, a quizzical look upon her face. "It's my home," Celes answered as if it was self-evident. "It's what I've always wanted. The Empire's finally mine."

"So that's it? After everything that's happened, you still want to be Gestahl?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you implying?"

"I'm saying that you'll end up just like him: alone, old and corrupt. Is that what you really want?"

"And what would you suggest? Leave everything I've ever known and go back with you to the Northern Continent?" she scoffed.

"That's not a bad start."

"I'll be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life," Celes exasperated. "At least in Vector, I'll be Empress."

"I guess it depends on what you really want."

Celes fell silent at that.

Locke sighed. "Fine, I'll respect your decision. But the offer's been made."

"That you'll protect me? Even from your friends?" Celes scoffed.

Locke turned away. "A promise is a promise," he muttered beneath his breath.

A chilly breeze drifted between them.

"Fine," Celes remarked at last.

"Fine?"

"Not immediately. I still have responsibilities: people who believed in me, people I need to look after. I don't even know if I really want to go. You need to give me time..."

"How about a month?"

"So soon? Not a chance," Celes laughed lightly. "But... how about a year from today? Back where we first met."

"Where we first met?" Locke echoed.

There was a twinkle in her eye. "Where we first really met."

Locke furrowed his brow for a moment, then smiled. "Yeah, I suppose that's plenty of time," he nodded. "A year from now, where we first met; that's the plan?"

"That's a promise."

Epilogue

Two men stood upon a cliff overlooking the ocean. They said nothing, instead silently enjoying the rhythmic sound of waves breaking upon jagged rocks below. A refreshing salty breeze cooled off the heat of the noon sun. It was a rare moment of tranquility -- a bastion of solitude that both men treasured.

"You're leaving, aren't you?" Edgar broke the comfortable silence abruptly.

Locke shifted his weight. "Sometimes I swear you're telepathic."

"Well, I am a king."

"And a good-looking one at that."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, my friend. And you're avoiding the question."

Locke folded his arms behind his back. His eyes drifted out over the ocean, taking in the glittering expanse of blue waters. But though he looked to the east, his mind was ever southward.

"You're thinking about her again," Edgar accused with a sigh. "I really wish this infatuation would end."

"You lost a bet with Setzer, didn't you?"

"I should've known better," Edgar shrugged. "After all, I know you better than anyone else."

"We all make mistakes. It's how we deal with the consequences that counts."

"That's a pretty suave retort," Edgar scoffed. "Could it be possible? Have you actually been listening to me?"

"For the entire year."

"Well, obviously nothing's stuck," Edgar growled. "She's dead, Locke. The Empire's collapsed and Vector's been sacked, twice. Warlords have been fighting over that decaying carcass since the Floating Continent crashed into the ocean."

"Warlords?" Locke rolled his eyes. "We've got our share."

"Yeah, well at least these ones maintained discipline and order. Even Forsythe's people aren't starving, and he's as power-hungry as they come. The entire southern continent's a disaster. Magitek? I doubt they even have gunpowder anymore."

"Banon's spies might be wrong," Locke maintained.

"Yeah, I'm sure they're wrong. It's not like my brother had to rescue the lot of them after food and clean water became scarce," Edgar's voice dripped with sarcasm. He quickly checked over his shoulder; the ground was rumbling ever so slightly.

"I might not like Celes," the King of Figaro continued, "but I respect her. I know she'd never let the Empire degrade into such anarchy and chaos. At least, not while she still breathed."

Locke shook his head. "She's alive. I believe in her."

Edgar's glare softened. "How long have we known each other, Locke?

"Too long."

"Then you know I'm only saying this because I care: you need to move on. You can't keep blaming yourself for what happened to Rachel."

Locke glanced up, a hard look in his eyes. "This isn't about her."

"Isn't it? I've seen how relentless you are in trying to keep every single promise you make, even if the girl in question is absolutely incorrigible. So go ahead, tell me you're not trying to redeem yourself."

Locke gritted his teeth. "Is that so wrong? Nobody's perfect, but it's what's inside that's important!"

"Actions," Edgar enunciated carefully. "That's the measure of a man. Lamenting over the past is the lowest of the low."

The ground was constantly rumbling now.

"And what about you? What will people think about your actions?"

The two men glanced up to see chocobo riders halted by Edgar's royal guard. Far enough away to be out of earshot, the two bickering friends waved at the leader of the new arrivals.

With statuesque knights at his sides, Cyan Garamonde waved back.

Edgar gestured beneath the cliff, at the dozens of battleships at sea and thousands of soldiers upon the beaches. Flags of Figaro and Doma fluttered proudly in the wind, their brilliant colours a stark contrast to the black and red of the Imperial standard. For amongst brave knights and vigilant marines were towering Magitek Armors, each manned by soldiers still wearing their distinctive brown leather.

"They will know me as the King who risked his life to ensure that -- never again! -- will any kingdom stand alone against an aggressor. I have erred, but history will judge me not on the past, but on the future; of how I befriended the stranded Imperials."

Cyan was fast approaching them now.

"And I pray that letting them rebuild their homes, offering aid, forging alliances and above all: fighting only those who sought war instead of peace, I pray that it will make up for how I treated our Doman friends."

"Then we're not much different," Locke shouldered his pack with a smile.

"You're hopeless," Edgar sighed. He turned around. "Sir Cyan, welcome back!"

Cyan brought his chocobo to a halt and jumped off. "'tis a pleasure to see you again, Your Royal Highness," he said with a bow.

"I have a favour to ask: could you detach two of your finest to escort our friend here?"

Cyan's smile melted away, replaced by a detached look of professionalism. He turned around and hollered at the knights mingling with Edgar's royal guard.

"A lovely thought, but I'm not a soldier going to war," Locke waved Cyan's men away. "I'll be off now."

"Travelling alone in these times?" Edgar raised an eyebrow. "Just who do you think you are?"

Locke winked.

"Nothing more than humble treasure hunter."

-=-

It was cold up on the mountaintop. The winds were relentless, cutting through even the warmest and toughest of pelts. Here, in the far north of the world, winter was everlasting. And though the sun was shining in the clear blue sky, there was little warmth to be had.

Fitting, Locke thought.

He trudged through thick snow once more, eyes searching the desolate landscape for any sign of her. As he plodded onward, the winter gusts picked up and buried his footsteps beneath fresh snow. Mist drifted away from his mouth as he sighed.

His journey ended at the top of a cliff that jutted out over the world. High up in the sky, Locke took a deep breath of the thin, crisp air.

Ten days.

Once more, he sat down upon the same rock. Once more, he waited. Northern gusts blew, snowflakes fell, and the sun sank beyond the horizon.

The moon was full this night.

Locke stood up and trudged back down the cliff. A familiar route, one he could have traversed blindly. It was always the same in this pristine, untouched wilderness.

Except this time.

Underneath the light of the moon, something glittered near the edge of the cliff. He made his way over slowly, and shivers ran down his spine as he realized what it was.

The icy flower twinkled back.

Locke hesitated as he picked up the Censant; he remembered how easily it had been crushed the last time. With thick gloves on, he would shatter the tiny flower.

Pulling down his hood, he undid the bandana wrapped around his forehead. He removed his glove and with red cloth between his bare fingers, reached carefully for the stem. He held it there for a moment, patient, as if waiting for the flower to decide of its own accord.

With a triumphant smile, he lifted the Censant off the ground. The blossom of icy pedals beckoned and he took a light sniff.

Memories rushed out of the floodgates, visions of the past that had been long forgotten. Locke sighed wistfully as he basked in the warmth of moments lost, recalling peaceful times and simple pleasures; of journeying through the wilderness with naught on his mind save the adventure itself.

But most of all, he remembered her.

All too quickly did nostalgia fade away. He was tempted to take another breath, but instead he held the stem near its frosty base and waited. When he removed his hands, the flower was back in the ground.

Behind him came the sound of something breaking through the crisp snow. His heart leapt out of his throat as he spun around.

Nothing.

Locke scanned the dark cliff-top. The barren mountaintop was just that, devoid of life. He could not even place the source of the sound.

Yet this time, his spirit did not dim. Instead, he stood near the edge of the cliff and gazed over moonlit landscape. A gust of wind sent shivers down his spine, reminding him of his bare hands. So quickly was his hood and glove replaced that his bandana fell to the ground.

Locke looked down at that piece of crimson cloth. A smile spread slowly upon his face.

"Goodbye," he whispered.

Locke Cole turned away from the cliff and began the long climb down. Behind him, a simple of piece of red cloth was carried away by the wind.


Finis

very nice! i am glad i stuck with this one. its not exactly everybody's happy ending, but i, personally, prefer it this way. the last battle was well done.

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Currently Playing : Final Fantasy V
Most Recently Beat : Elder Scrolls: Skyrim
Favorite Game : Final Fantasy X

The newest CoNcast is up! Have a listen!

Pfft, a happy ending would suck.

Extremely awesome. Sad to see it end, but a pretty good ending.

This post has been edited by Del S on 24th August 2007 16:33

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"Only the dead have seen the end of their quotes being misattributed to Plato."
-George Santayana

"The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here..."
-Abraham Lincoln, prior to the discovery of Irony.

Thanks Del, Death.

Here's some random statistics I cobbled up:

• Words: 35066
• Chapters: 21
• Time to Completion: 16 weeks
• Word limit / Chapter: 1700
• Number of times over the limit: 2 (Chapters 10 and 20)
• Number of Espers mentioned: 14
• Number of named original characters: 1 (Jake)
• Number of times Terra's name was used: 10
• Number of castles destroyed: 3
• Regicides committed by Celes: 2
• Number of Leo's was killed: 2
• Number of times Locke fell off a mountain: 2
• Promises kept:

If it's not too much to ask, I'd really appreciate some criticism about the story. Especially since it's completed and all cards are on the table, I'd love to hear about what worked, what didn't, and what I really dropped the ball on.

And honestly, did anyone think Celes deserved a happy ending?

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Visions of Peace - Four Generals, One Empire, and the Returners caught in the middle.