North of Achal, the journey went uphill, and became more rocky and
mountainous still.  The forest changed from the birches and oaks of
the village below to pines and cedars, and there were even patches of
snow that could be found here or there.

"Are we there yet?" asked Mika.

Davin, who was leading the line of adventurers, looked back at his
foster sister and smiled in a doting way.  He had gotten used to
Mika's impatience with travelling years ago.  At lot more used, he
noted, that Syeira, who was taking up the rear behind the young girl
and slowly flexing and unflexing her hands a few inches behind Mika's
neck, and grinding her teeth.

"Actually, it's just a few more minutes, Mika.  Really it is."  Davin
turned his attention to Marcine, who was just behind him, marching
quietly along.

"You know, once we get through this mountain pass, we'll be out of the
country, Marcine.  From then on, it'll be a lot harder for the
soldiers of Tienne to follow us."

Davin smiled, but the magic-user just sighed.  "Yeah.. but the Church
spans the whole *world*.  There's always going to be Dragoons,
wherever we go."

Davin waggled a finger.  "Maybe - but it's not going to be easy
rousing the churches of Russa.  The priests over there are practically
as sleepy and snowed over as the countryside - they'd probably just
see you as a local heretic, and not even bother with you without reels
of reels of red tape first!"

The young wanderer poured out good cheer in his words, but Marcine
didn't respond, and continued to trudge forwards. (The chocobos they
had been obliged to leave behind - they were heading north, and the
weather would have been inhospitable to the large birds.)  Shrugging,
he reshouldered his pack and faced forward again.  Soon after leaving
Achal, Marcine's mood had been getting mopier and mopier - and Davin
couldn't understand why.  Marcine was essentially going to be free
soon - Davin knew from experience that practically anything and anyone
could trounce around the frozen vastness of Russa for months without
so much as *seeing* anybody, let alone be chased by a legion of Church
hunters.

"Nice house." Davin said, trying to break the silence.  The narrow
mountain path they were travelling through opened up a bit in front of
them, and nestled between some evergreens *was* a rather nice house,
two stories, gabled, stone and wood together - the living place of a
well-to-do family to be sure, though it was strange for such folks to
be living so far out of town.

Syeira stopped and folded her arms, eyeing the house critically,
before nodding in agreement.

"And what was *that* all about, Syeira?" Davin asked.  "Thinking of
casing the place?"

"Hey!" Syeira said, her eyebrow twitching in annoyance.  "I wasn't
planning to rob the place."  As she picked up the marching pace again,
she muttered, "..just considering the *possibilities*, that's all.
Hmph."

"I don't remember that house - must be fairly new.  But, the ground
just levelled out - if I remember correctly, that means the Russa
bridge is just around the next bend!"  Ahead of them, the path curved
to the right, thickly masked by trees on both sides.

Marcine's gaze stopped sweeping the ground, and she perked up with
curiosity as the four of them rounded the bend.

After the turn, the trees abruptly ended a few paces beyond, and right
in front of them yawned the chasm of a vast canyon.  A tiny stream ran
though the bottom of it, but you had to strain your eyes to see it;
the cliff wall was jaggy and sharp all the way down, and it was an
uninviting gorge all around.  A hundred feet across on the other side
was the opposite face, where the path continued where it left off, in
the northern country of Russa.

There *should* have been a bridge in between, but there were some
problems.

A few pieces of wood and metal were spiked into the ground in front of
the party.  Dangling from it were about a dozen slats of wood, hanging
down the side of the cliff; there was a similar piece of junk hanging
down the Russa side.

"Oh.  The bridge is out."  Davin said.  "Well.. *damn*!"

======================================================================


                              FINAL FANTASY LEGACY
                              Knights of the Round

                            Started by Brian Stricklin
                            This chapter by Sean Givan

                            Chapter Six: Side Quests

======================================================================

"Hiiiii again, Daviiin!" squealed a trio of cute girls from the upper
banister, as the group filed back into Achal's inn.  Everyone
tactfully ignored them.

"Gah!" Syeira plopped herself down in the nearest chair and stretched
her legs.  "Hours and hours of walking for nothing!  Geez, Davin, I
guess it didn't occur to you to *ask* if the bridge was going to be
*there* before we wasted our entire morning."

"Come on, Syeira!" Mika complained, defending her foster brother.  "He
couldn't have thought to ask a question like that!  Besides - the rest
of us aren't tired.  Not even me."

Syeira's eyebrow twitched again.  "Well, let me explain it this way..
I've got 'thief legs'.  I live in the forest, and when I need to go
somewhere, I walk a short way, being quiet and stealthy and careful
and all that."  Syeira tossed her head back.  "My legs are delicately
calibrated for thief work.  It's a surprise if I don't end up ruining
them with all this needless walking."

Everyone decided to let the topic hang.  Davin sat down at the bar
counter, and caught the bartender's attention.  "Hey there!  We were
heading out to Russa, but the bridge was out when we got there.  Is
there somebody we can tell, or.."

The bartender shook his head.  "Oh no, we know about the bridge.  Been
out for a long while now."

Davin looked a little uncertain.  "Well.. it's probably not my place
to judge, but I thought that bridge was under Achal's
responsibilities.  Why wasn't it fixed?"

Around Davin, the crowd who were normally chatting up their townsmates
over lunch fell quiet.  Davin started looking back and forth, getting
confused.

The bartender coughed, and leaned in to speak with Davin quietly.
"That's not really something we talk about here.  I'll tell you, but
just once, so you understand and don't have to ask again.."

"Oh.. kay.." Davin said.  Behind him, Marcine, Mika, and Syeira
gathered close, creating a tight bunch of attentive ears.

"That bridge has been out for months now, but you probably saw that
house just next to it, right?  Well, the carpenters from here went up
to the border to fix the bridge, but soon as they stayed a few hours,
they got chased off."

"By what?" Mika asked.

The bartender started speaking even more quietly, and the four of them
leaned in even closer - The stool under Davin started to creak Marcine
and Syeira started weighing down on his back.

"By *ghosts*, girl!  That house up there's haunted!  They didn't do
anything to *you* because you were just passing by - but they'll run
off anybody who hangs around there for too long.  We can't stay for
the time it'd take to fix that bridge."

The bartender backed off, and made a quick gesture of the Tri-Fan
across his chest.  "So, don't be speaking up about it, hear?  We
figure as long as *they* stay up *there*, it's not such a problem, but
we don't need to be attracting the attention of any of *them*."

There were murmurs of assent around the bar, and Davin decided to be
polite and not press the matter.

After they had eaten, the party went for a walk outside in the streets
of Achal to think.

"I don't believe it!" Mika declared.  "Davin, you said you never saw
the house before - who ever heard of a haunted house that was *new*?"

"I wonder who lived there.." Marcine mumbled.  "and what happened.."

"Well, *shoot*!" Syeira grumped, putting her hands on her hips and
tapping her foot.  "A perfectly unoccupied house that I could've
stripped bare and there had to be *ghosts*.."  She paused, realizing
she was speaking a bit loudly as Davin and Marcine looked at her in
askance.

Davin scratched the back of his head.  "Well, I guess Russa is out.
We could head east or west, but first we'd have to backtrack south to
the nearest fork in the road, and that means a chance of running into
folks from Tienne.."

"Well, hey!" Syeira interrupted.  "Who says we have to travel the
roads?  I know the forest down south like the back of my hand!  If you
need a place to lie low for a while, I could keep you guys in good
shape pretty much forever!"

"Well, it sounds like a good plan," Davin began, "but it might be
rough on Mika-"

"We should do something about that house.."

"Hmm?" Davin turned to Marcine, whose expression had returned to the
same moodiness he had noticed earlier that morning.  "I think we
should help the folks of Achal," she quietly said, "and try to get rid
of whatever those ghosts are, so they can rebuild their bridge."

"Um.." Davin said.  "Yeah, it'd be *nice* if we could, Marcine, but I
don't think we have the time.  And if we stay in one place for too
long.."

"..we'd be captured by the Church," Marcine said, "for being sinning
magic-users, right?"  Marcine's brow knitted.

Davin sighed.  "Marcine, I've told you this before - you have to shake
off this idea that you're doing something wrong just because the
Church says using magic is heresy.  You know in your head - "

"Yes, I *do* know!" Marcine said angrily.  "But, Davin, what are we
*doing*?  Magic *is* just a tool, and you can use it for good and for
bad - but all *I've* used it for, ever since I got out of prison, was
just to stay alive and run away from guards and assasins..  what's the
use?  It may as *well* be a sin!"

"I want to prove to myself, so that I really believe it, that magic
can be used for good.  And I want to *do* good with it - if I don't,
I'm nothing more than a heretic on the run, and nobody will care!"

Marcine folded her arms and looked at Davin with pleading eyes.
"Maybe it's foolish, but it's still important.  Please?"

Put on the spot, Davin looked around for consensus.  Mika just
returned a helpless look, undecided and leaving it up back to him.
Syeira, on the other hand, closed her eyes and nodded - a slow, sure
nod that said, 'Wrong or right, this needs to be addressed for her
sake'.

"All right, Marcine." Davin said.  "We'll head out tonight."

* * * * *


Atlantea was a seaside town.

The town was sizable and active, with dozens of people going about
their daily business through endless open-air markets that seemed to
take up the bulk of the town's space.  The streets sloped gently
downward towards the bright blue water of Clea's Sea against the
horizon, and gulls circled above it all in clouds, screeching and
adding to the bustling noise.

Though Atlantea was at the height of business in the early afternoon,
the people were sure to make way for the Dragoons that marched in an
orderly line through the markets.  Kyle, followed by fourteen other
soldiers, was dressed in the formal outfit of the Holy Dragoons, but
was not armored; even with the goal of tracking down a heretic witch
who had sinned worse than any magician in recent memory, it would not
do for a town to be disturbed by such an imposing and obvious presence
as that.

Kyle stopped his men just a few short blocks into the town, and turned
to address them.

"We will be spending the next night and day investigating this town
for any signs of Marcine Cavanaugh."  To his credit, Kyle had learned
to speak his sister's name without flinching.  "While the Holy
Dragoons are a force respected all across the known world, keep in
mind that this is not our city of Tienne and we should be polite and
not overly forceful while we are here.  Go off in teams of two, and
pan the markets, followed by the back-alleys and finally the
residential areas; Martin?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Martin, you'll be coming with me.  The two of us will be heading to
the Atlantea garrison to formally announce our presence."

"Yes, sir!"

"We will be meeting again at The White Gull Inn at midnight.
Dismissed!"

The legion broke up, and Private Martin Osprey followed his captain
towards the center of the city.

"It would probably be a good idea to also keep an eye out for signs of
magic in general." Kyle said, half to himself as he made his way
through the crowds.

"Signs, sir?"

"There's been rumours of an underground cult in this town; it's
possible the heretic could have joined them, or maybe made a
rendezvous of some sort here, if they exist," he said absently.  He
frowned.  "I don't think I like the idea of Marcine being part of a
cult."

"..yes, sir."

The Atlantea Garrison was a cube-shaped building, plain and
governmental in appearance, made of brown stone and mortar.  Dwarfing
it all around were trade guilds, inns, and shops; Atlantea was an
unusual town in that while the market was by far the strongest force
here, the town remained peaceful and honest despite a general lack of
guards to keep people safe.

Kyle looked up the building's height and nodded approvingly.  "Mm hm -
they keep this garrison is good shape.  Clean, no wear and tear I can
see-" Kyle stopped abruptly, peering upwards in consternation.
"Martin!  Look up there!"

The soldier looked upwards, but didn't see anything of note.  "What,
sir?"

Kyle pointed.  "There!"  Jutting from the top of the roof was a shiny
rod of aluminum, capped with a small ball.  "That's.. that's a *radio
tower*."

"Radio, sir?"

"There's no small-scale radio in Atlantea!" Kyle exclaimed.  "There's
not even supposed to be - we haven't finished testing that technology
in Tienne yet!  Where did they get that from?  It's not keeping with
policy, to say the least!"

Martin shrugged.  "Dunno, sir."

Kyle stomped angrily into the garrison, and looked around.  The inside
of the lobby was darkened except for the natural light from outside,
and seemed devoid of people.

"What on earth-?"  Now even more angered, he ascended the stairway to
the second floor, where the offices of the higher ranking guardsmen
resided.  There was only one office door at the second landing, and
Kyle hurriedly rapped on it as Martin climbed the stairs behind him.

"Ah!  Come in, it's not locked!" A cheerful voice of an older man
echoed from inside, and Kyle stormed in.  The office itself was
downright unkempt - it was filled with papers, falling out of filing
cabinets and scattered chaotically across the desks.  A rosy-faced man
with thinning brown hair and a pot belly sat at the desk - despite his
sedentary appearance, Kyle was taken aback to find that he wore the
outfit of a Holy Dragoon.

"This place looks it's been ramsacked!  And where is everyone else?!
What kind of garrison is this?"  Kyle found himself saying in
disbelief, waving his arms around as he spoke and blocking the
doorway, preventing Martin from entering behind him.

"Oh, don't worry about it - everyone's just out for the day," the fat
Dragoon said jovially, waving off Kyle's outrage.  "I'm Captain
Barthomolew Ulrich, of Atlantea.  And you?"

Kyle pulled himself erect.  "Captain Kyle Cavanaugh, Tienne." He
relaxed.  "I and fourteen other men have arrived here to investigate
an escaped heretic.  We expect to be remaining tonight and tomorrow,
questioning people and searching premises."

"Ah," nodded Captain Ulrich, with a distinct bobbing motion.  "All
right."

Kyle waited for a few seconds in silence, before exploding.  "WHAT DO
YOU MEAN, 'ALL RIGHT'?!  We need special warrants printed up if we're
doing searches outside of Tienne, either that or the assistance of a
native Dragoon!  There are basic procedures to follow here!"

"Oh, don't worry, don't worry," bobbed the Captain, "These things
always work themselves out.."

Kyle pressed a hand to his forehead, willing himself to calm down in
the face of this idiot.  "One other thing, Captain Ulrich - there's a
short range radio tower on the roof of your building.  That wasn't
requisitioned to you - where did you get that from?"  (..and do you
ever *use* it, you empty-headed cud-chewing cow..) thought Kyle grimly
to himself.

Captain Ulrich brightened up.  "Oh yes!  We received that just two
weeks ago, put it up on our roof we did - it's handy if we want to
talk to each other."

"Well, I find that hard to believe, since short range radio is not
officially planned to leave the boundaries of Tienne for six more
months.  Do you have any papers to prove this..?  Letters of intent,
installation instructions..?  Anything?"

"Why yes I do," Ulrich said, disappearing below the desk.  There were
the sounds of some papers being shuffled across the floor before he
rose again, a sheet in hand.  He passed the paper to Kyle, and then
leaned over his desk, running a finger across it as he read: "It's all
right here. 'From the Provincial Council of the Holy Dragoons, the
short range radio tower enclosed with this letter is to be immediately
installed at the Atlantea Garrison, and all Atlantea soldiers trained
in its usage.."

Kyle shook his head angrily.  "What are you babbling about?!"  He
rustled the paper in the older captain's face.  "This sheet of paper
is absolutely BLANK!"

"What?  No, it's not.  Here, read it again.  'From the Provincial'..
Wait a minute.  Where are you going?  Here now, it's rude to just
leave like that!"

* * * * *

Out in the sunlight in front of the garrison, Kyle rubbed his temple.
"What do you think of all that, Private Martin?"

"Nutball, sir."

"It's.. too strange.  Captain Ulrich, he's obviously incompetent and
probably insane to boot - but why is he the only person in the
garrison?"

Kyle scanned up and down the streets, probing his thoughts.
"Actually, Martin, do you remember seeing any soldiers, any at all,
after entering this town?"

Martin thought a bit.  "No, sir.  Luck, sir?"

"No.  There always has to be a guard patrolling each market street, if
only to keep an eye out for pickpockets and shoplifters.  It was
impossible for us to have missed them on the way here."

"..strange, sir."

"Yes.." Kyle said, looking carefully around.  "In fact, I'd be willing
to bet that there's only one guard in the whole of Atlantea.. and we
just met him."

"..weird, sir."

* * * * *

Rather than continue searching the town, Kyle and Martin headed
directly for The White Gull Inn, and checked in.

The man at the desk smiled blissfully as he handed Kyle a key.  "Take
room number 6, sir, and have a good day!"

Room number six had two beds and a table, with an open window looking
out to the sea.  A fresh sea breeze blew in through the window, giving
the room a much cleaner scent than would be expected from a publically
used inn.

"It would probably be best for us to round up the other soldiers today
and have them gather here, instead of meeting for midnight." Kyle
said, as he sat down on the rather damp bed.

"Why, sir?"

"It's just a hunch, but it's just not natural for a town the size of
Atlantea to have just one guard.  And it's also strange that the
Dragoons never found out how low the guard presence was here until we
arrived ourselves - I wouldn't expect Captain Ulrich to think of
contacting us for reinforcements, but I *would* expect some of the
civilians to bring up the matter."  Kyle frowned.  "It's just
suspicious, and we should be on our guards."

"Yes, sir."

Kyle patted the bedding.  "This bed is in awfully poor condition.." He
leaned in close to smell the wet blankets, sniffed chloroform, and
passed out.

Martin ran up to him.  "Sir?"  Concerned, Martin knelt down and took a
few tentative sniffs at the bed himself.  Then he passed out, too.

* * * * *

In the mountain pass, a full moon did its best to shine light over the
landscape; but the house, tucked away in a nook of trees, remained
pitch black and foreboding.

Syeira lifted her lantern towards the house, peering inside a window.
The light instead reflected off the glass, denying her a look inside.

"Well, it looks the part, doesn't it?" Davin joked, rather weakly.

Marcine stepped forward, visibly nervous, but unwilling to let it get
to her.  "Let's go inside.  We can take a look around, and find out
the truth of the matter."

"Yeah!" said Mika, completely unafraid.  "We can spend the night here,
prove there's no ghosts inside and tell Achal there's nothing to worry
about!"  She boldly stepped forward and pushed the front door.  "Oh.
It's locked." she said.

"Syeira," Marcine said, "Can you unlock it for us?"

Syeira nodded rather quickly.  "Sure, sure.."  She stepped up and
hunkered down, pulling out some tiny metal tools from her pocket.  The
others watched her backside as she worked at the doorlock.

There was a click noise, and the door swung silently open.  "Good job,
Syeira!" praised Marcine.

Syeira remained stiff in her bent-over position as the door swung all
the way, opening into darkness.

"Uh.." she said.  "That wasn't me.  I hadn't really started yet."

"Guess it was just stuck." Mika said, and peeked over the doorjamb.
"Wow, there's some nice stuff in here."

"Let us go in first, Mika." Davin said, gently pushing the girl aside
and stepping inside himself, followed close behind by Marcine, who had
picked up Syeira's lantern.

Mika paused before entering, looking at the thief who still remained
frozen in place before the door.  "Aren't you coming in?"

"Uh.." she stalled.  "I think I'll just guard the outside, just in
case anything dangerous comes."

"Is Syeira coming in, Mika?" Davin's voice called.

"She's afraid to!" Mika called back.

"I am NOT!" Syeira retorted.

"Well, come on then!" Mika said.  "Unless you're CHICKEN!  Bawk bawk
bawk!" she taunted as she went inside.

Davin whistled as he studied the contents of the living room.  Whoever
had lived here had been well-to-do; and had also left the house
completely untouched.  The living room had rich red carpets,
upholstery chairs, and finely crafted tables; brass chandeliers; and
velvet curtains on the glass windows.

"Strange.." Marcine said.  "Wouldn't thieves have come by now?"

"Not if the place was as haunted as everyone said.." Davin said.
"That reminds me.  Syeira, are you there?"

"She on the doormat, but she's too chicken to come in any further!"
Mika's voice called.

"That's NOT true!  I'm just guarding the outside!  And the fact that I
*did* come in *proves* I'm not afraid, so I don't feel the need to go
any further inside this house!"

Davin accidently bumped his leg against a table, making a loud *thump*
noise.

"AIEEEEEEEEEEEE!!"

"Um.. sorry, Syeira, that was me.  Marcine, could you bring the lamp a
little closer?"

"It's so quiet in here." Marcine said.  "I mean, even an empty house
makes some kind of noise, or at least *feels* different from this
place.  It's *deathly* quiet."

"Hmm.." Davin reached out and placed his hand against the wall,
closing his eyes in concentration.  Marcine (and Mika, who had
wandered in) watched him quietly for a minute until he opened them
again, and let go.

Davin rubbed his chin, looking a little disturbed.  "You know.. yes, I
think this house is definately haunted."

"Were you using your elemental powers?" Marcine asked.

"I was trying to reach the spirits of the house.  But they're not
here." Davin said.  "I remember a lesson in the Mystic Academy; in a
haunted house, the haunting ghost will enslave all the surrounding
spirits and pull them out from their normal resting place, to command
them for the ghost's purposes.  That's probably why it feels so quiet
here, Marcine."

Marcine rested her hand on a small table by the wall.  "Then I guess
you wouldn't be able to use your elementalism here, either-"

Without warning, from the desk jumped out a glob of translucent plasm,
encasing Marcine's hand.  She shrieked, and reflexively leapt back,
yanking her hand away; rather than coming free, the plasm from the
desk pulled and stretched like taffy, and started to crawl past her
wrist and up her arm.

Mika screamed, and Davin immediately drew his sword and rushed at
Marcine.  Bringing the blade down on the stretched ghostly material,
the stuff severed in two - the glob retracted back into the wooden
table, and the severed half started to ooze down off Marcine's hand,
turning into vapor and disappearing.

"Are you all right?" he immediately asked.

"My hand feels a little numb.." Marcine said, flexing it a few times.
"But I think so."

Davin turned to face Mika, who was sobbing in fright.  Syeira was at
her shoulders; she had run in once the commotion had started, and
seemd to have suddenly gotten braver after she had a chance to visibly
see what the spook was.

"Mika, get out of the house." Davin said.  "Syeira, you go with her
and keep her safe."

Syeira shook her head.  "The bartender said the ghost attacked
carpenters, and they had to be outside when it happened.  You need us
nearby in case something happens to you."

"Mika?" Davin asked.

Mika wiped at her eyes, starting to look a little ashamed at having
been scared.  "I'll be okay, big brother."

Davin gazed critically at the two, then sighed.  "You two stay in this
room, then.  Syeira, take care of Mika, Mika, don't do anything
foolish.  Understood?"

The two nodded.  "Davin, let's take a look around." said Marcine.  "If
we study what's in the house, maybe we can understand where the ghost
came from."

Davin nodded, and the two of them walked down the hallway past the
living room, going deeper inside the house, Marcine's lantern leading
the way.

* * * * *

If you wake up early, you still have a chance.

Come on, you're thinking, aren't you Kyle?  That means you're
conscious.  Woozy, but conscious - DON'T SLIP BACK!

Wake Up!

Wakeupwakeupwakeupwakeupwakeup-

WAKE UP!

Kyle bolted upright, and was immediately rewarded by an incredible
throbbing headache.  His vision blurred, and was filled with green
spots - the chloroform he had breathed threatened to hurl him under
again, but his Dragoon training had taught him to the skill of taking
tiny slivers of consciousness, and using them to fight his way to
wakefullness.

He was lying on a stone flat.  He was underground, or at least he
thought so - he was in a round room at the end of a stone tunnel, and
the only light was red and orange, coming from torches on the wall.

He wasn't bound, thank the Gods.  His naginata wasn't with him, but he
spotted his secondary arm - a short sword - resting by the near wall.

Whoever his captors were weren't present, and hadn't finished with his
capture.  It was for situations like this that he had trained to
recover from unconsciousness, and he thanked his teachers and masters.

The most important details having been found out, Kyle took the time
to examine the rest of the room.  Private Martin was still out, on a
stone flat next to him.  Also in the room was a bookshelf, and a
cluttered work desk.  Along with books were other knicknacks, bottles,
and some strange devices he couldn't figure out at first glance.  The
work desk had mostly papers and books, but Kyle also spotted two
objects that looked like skullcaps, placed purposefully at the edge of
the table.

Without further ado, Kyle rolled over and began sharply slapping the
face of Martin.  He came to in moments, thrashing his limbs in
surprise, and Kyle cupped his mouth, placing a finger to his lips to
warn him to shush.

"Where-- Sir--?"

"Ssh.  Private, go pick up your sword and guard the tunnel entrance."

Martin got up, clutching his aching head as he obeyed.  Kyle turned
his attention to the desk.  Sitting down at the chair behind it, he
began rifling randomly though the looseleaf papers scattered across
the desk.  (Kind of reminds me of Ulrich's office), he thought.

He glanced at the skullcaps, and then started reading papers at
random, skimming rapidly so as not to take his attention away from his
current situation - that is, inside an unknown place where he'd been
captured.

Most of it was handwritten, chicken scratch that he could barely make
a word out of.  He shuffled some more, and was ready to switch to the
bookshelves before he spotted one paper that fixed his attention and
froze it.

Unlike most of the other sheets, it was a diagram.  Specifically, that
of a small-scale radio tower.

He went back to the other sheets, this time trying his utmost to read
the words.  There was a description to go along with the diagram,
explaining not only how to install the radio tower but also how the
radio itself worked as a technological concept.

There was other information in the pages, too.  One page started
talking about metallurgy; as Kyle peered at the letters, he realized
that it wasn't just ordinary metallurgy, but a special formula for
refining the special alloy needed to create jet armor.  Another was
less science-minded; it instead explained the art of swordfighting,
using words and sentences that hearkened very closely to what Kyle had
read in his books when learning how to fight as a Dragoon.

Kyle thought about what he was reading.

Then thought about Captain Barthomolew Ulrich, the idiot who guarded
Atlantea by his lonesome.

Then thought about the radio tower, parked on the garrison roof well
before people outside of Tienne were even to know about it.

Then thought about the two skullcaps, resting on the table before him.

Then about the rumours of the Atlantea magic cult..

"Psychomancy." he concluded.

"What, sir?" asked Martin, patiently guarding the tunnel.

"Martin.. about all the strange things we've seen today.  There's
definately a cult in Actinea; and it's been controlling the minds of
the Dragoons here!"  Kyle grimaced darkly, rumpling the papers as he
clutched them.  "They're mining the minds of the Dragoons for military
information!"

"Information, sir?"

Kyle stood up and retrieved his sword, then walked over to the wall,
picking up a torch.  "The Church and the Dragoons researched a great
many secrets in fighting the Manakyr; and it's those secrets that
allow us to keep our hold on the world today, and protect it from
empires with dark ambition."  He callously tossed the burning torch on
the desk; the dry wood was soon fully aflame, and the bookshelf began
to catch as well.  "That's what these bastards were trying to gather!"

"Sir!"

Kyle looked up from the burning library.  "What is it, Martin!"

"Incoming, sir!"

Kyle growled, righteousness inflaming his veins with fighting spirit.
Whipping out his sword, he charged out of the room and down the
hallway even before taking a look; ahead, there were a pair of
figures, dressed in ominous black robes with hoods that obscured their
faces.  The two were advancing, daggers drawn; as soon as Kyle had
started his charge, however, the two quailed at the furious Dragoon,
turned, and ran.

"Come ON, Martin!" Kyle roared.  "I'm not going to suffer having one
of these worms LIVE! ATTAAAAACK!"

"Following, sir!"  Martin shouted, well behind and falling further by
the moment.

* * * * *

"You know, if I hadn't screamed, Davin would have let me come along."
Mika said, frowning and folding her arms.

Syeira looked up from her current diversion - emptying the contents of
a jewellery box she had found inside a nearby cabinet.  "Now, Mika.."
Syeira said reproachfully.  "Even if you hadn't screamed.." she
paused.  "Like a little CHICKEN, BAWK, BAWK, BAWK!"

"Hey, shut up!" Mika yelled.

"Oh wait, sorry.." Syeira said. "Lemme begin again.  Whether you're
afraid or not doesn't matter, Mika - come on, everybody's afraid from
time to time."

"Davin's not!" Mika objected.

"Well.." Syeira halted.  "The point is that Davin cares a lot about
you, and that means that he wants to keep you safe.  And sure, maybe
he makes you feel like a baby sometimes, but if he just went ahead and
let you do whatever you wanted, well, then that would kinda be like
the *opposite* of caring, wouldn't it?  And also - uh - Mika, is
something wrong?"

Mika wordlessly pointed behind Syeira, who trepidly turned her head
slightly to the side - just in time to see a gigantic plasm hand
reaching out of the wall close around her and engulf her upper torso.

"Syeira!" Mika shouted.  "I'll save you!"

Syeira thrashed uselessly inside the huge glob of ectoplasm, a silent
scream coming from her mouth gagged by the spiritual liquid.  Mika
reached into her overalls and hurled the first thing she found; a
small round bomb flew through the air, embedding itself in the glob
surrounding the thief.  Syeira stopped thrashing, and blinked
curiously at the object hovering a foot in front of her face; and then
gave another silent scream just before it noisily exploded.

Mika ran forward, waving her arms back and forth to clear the black
smoke filling the room.  "Syeira!  Syeira!  Are you OK?"

A blackened, charred, and very slimy thief staggered forward out of
the smoke.

"Mika..?" she mumbled.

"Yes..?"

"I hate you."

"Oh." Mika frowned.  "Okay, I've had enough!  I'm going to show this
house who's boss!"

Mika started digging deep inside her overalls, and started bringing
out package after package after package, which she layed out in a pile
on the wooden floor.

"Um.." said Syeira, trying to clean herself off on a curtain.  "What
are you going to do?"

"Oh, *you'll* see.."

* * * * *

Upstairs, Marcine moaned, and plopped down on the soft bed of the
guest bedroom.  "I don't understand!  There's nothing here that tells
us about who lives here!  No pictures, or diaries, or special
trinkets.."

Davin started looking through a closet.  "Well, judging from this,
there's both a guy and a girl who used to live here."  He kept an eye
on Marcine as he searched, and had his sword ready in his hand.  While
they had been searching, there had been a few other times when the
ghost had leapt out of some nearby object and tried to engulf the
sorceress.  He didn't know exactly what the ghost was trying to do to
her, but he wasn't about to give it a chance to show him.

"You said this house was fairly new.. maybe there was a couple here
starting off a new life, before the house got haunted.  Either it was
them, or maybe the ghost chased them off, or.. oh, I don't know."
Marcine said despondently.

"Is there some kind of magic that you can use, maybe, to find out?"

"Well.." Marcine thought a while, then perked up.  "Actually, yes!
There is a way. But.."

"But what?"

"Well, it's clairmancy." she said.  "I haven't really.. crossed that
line yet.  I'm not sure if I want to.."

Davin looked at her in silence, then nodded.  "It's your decision,
Marcine." he said firmly.

The sorceress looked at him sadly, then took a deep breath.  "Okay.  I
*came* here to do this, so.."

Marcine stood up, and walked to the middle of the room, holding her
arms out in front of her.

"Forces of time, witnesses to the ages, I bid you to tell me the
stories that matter most to this place, drawn from history.. THEATRE!"

In front of Marcine's arms, a clear globe appeared.  It filled with
white light a moment later, and then with colored images, telling of
the past..

* * * * *

"Came to see me out, Emera?"  The young man smiled, and paused before
stepping out on the bridge.

("Hey!" exclaimed Marcine.  "That guy looks a lot like you, Davin!")

("Yeah, I guess he does." Davin admitted.  "But, uh, that's not me,
really.")

("Are you sure?" Marcine said, a little archly.  "Those girls at the
inn seem pretty familiar with you.  How long have you been hanging
around Achal?")

("No, that's not me!  Honest!" said Davin, flustered.  Marcine
giggled.)

The image in the globe panned to the left, and a youthful woman in a
long dress stepped in sight, to meet up with the man at the foot of
the bridge.  "You're going to be gone for weeks, Darvin." Emera said,
a solemn expression on her features.  "Excuse me if I hold off on
goodbyes for as long as possible."

("DARVIN?" Marcine asked, then turned a suspicious eye to the real
young man in the bedroom.)

("That's.. that's coincidence!" Davin said.)

The pair stepped out on the bridge, the narrow construct of wood and
rope creaking softly in the slight wind passing through the canyon.
They walked across in silence, and stopped at the halfway point,
turning to look at each other.

("I'm getting a bad feeling about this.." Marcine said.)

("Yeah, me too.  If what's going to happen what I think is going to
happen, maybe you shouldn't look, Marcine.")

("But.. I have to look!" Marcine said, worry creasing her face.  "If I
look away, I'll break the spell.")

Emera and Darvin embraced.  "Say hello to my parents for me." Emera
said.  "And I'll keep the house in good stead."

Darvin smiled.  "Until later, dear."  He turned, and took a step
towards the Russa side of the bridge..

..then froze, as one of the wooden slats on the far side fell from its
ropes and into the gorge below.

("Oh no.  Oh no, oh no, oh no..." Marcine moaned.)

Emera stood stock still as well.  "Darvin!" she said, obviously
frightened.  Below the two, the canyon floor rested a dizzying height
below.

"Don't worry yet." Darvin said, slowly and carefully, as though that
would be something keeping the bridge intact.  "That could have just
been a loose board, just one.  You just go back to the house,
normally, and I'll keep going forward."

"What? No, Darvin!" Emera said, clutching at his arm, keeping him from
leaving.  "If the bridge is in danger, come back with me!  Is work in
Russa so important?"

"We need this work, Emera!  If this bridge breaks, and I'm not in
Russa, how will we support ourselves?  We sacrificed a lot to make a
life for ourselves here.  At least if I go to Russa, I can just work
as normal, and maybe the bridge will be fixed by the time I return!"

("Just pick a side and GET OFF!" Marcine shouted at the images.  "But
for Gods' sake, don't stand there in the middle of a rickety bridge
and ar-")

Suddenly, the bridge, weakened on the Russa side, snapped its ropes,
sending one end tumbling into the gorge.  Shrieking, Emera clutched at
Darvin's hand - Darvin scrabbled at the bridge slats as they tumbled,
and caught hold of one slat as the bridge swung for the cliff and
collided with a sharp slapping noise.

"Emera, you're slipping!" Darvin grunted, straining to keep one hand
on the slat and the other on Emera.  "Bring up your other hand, and-"

Emera's grasp hadn't been secure at the beginning, and their fingers-
to-fingers clutch quickly slipped free.

"EMERA!"

(Marcine made a noise of horrified dismay in her throat, and nearly
wrenched her view away from the globe.)

Deeply in shock, Darvin started to slowly climb the wooden slats of
the bridge to safety on the side of Achal.  It took a great deal of
time to make the climb.. ten agonizing minutes, fighting graviy and
his own trauma, before he reached the top.

Just before he did, however, the other end of the bridge came free.

"AAAAAA-!"

* * * * *

Marcine couldn't take any more, and yanked her gaze to the side,
dispelling the magic immediately.  She sat back on the bed, trembling
visibly as she clutched herself.

"Well.." Davin said lamely.  "See, that couldn't have been me, because
then I'd be.. dead.."

Marcine ignored him.  "The ghost.. it didn't attack you, did it?"

Davin blinked.  "Well.. no, I guess not."

She stood up, and turned to face Davin plainly.  "That girl, Emera.
She fell first, and must have died long before Darvin did.  What if
she never got a chance to know if Darvin died as well?"

Behind Marcine, in Davin's clear view, the entire wall of the bedroom
started to glisten.  From it, small pseudopods of slime started to
ooze, growing into a mountain of tendrils that waved back and forth in
the still air, making tiny smacking sounds.

"Marcine.." Davin warned.

Marcine continued.  "She must have gone back to this house, and waited
for Darvin to come back.  He never did.  Not for the longest time."

A glob of slime fell out of a nearby dresser drawer, landing with a
splat on the floor.

Marcine idly removed her pointed cap, and started playing with its rim
as she continued, seemingly deaf to the phenomena behind her.  "But
what if he *did* come back?  But not alone.  What if he had, say, a
trio of girlfriends that he picked up from somewhere?"

Davin was about to shout a stronger warning to Marcine, but stopped at
the sorceress's words, a look of slow understanding coming to his
face.

She turned around to face the slime, which had become a monstrous
thick sludge, occupying half the room.

"I guess you'd be getting jealous, wouldn't you?"

The slime bucked, and seemed to rear up in challenge to Marcine's
words.

She reached inside her hat, and pulled out a tiny sphere that looked
filled with liquid frost.  "I'm going to give you everything that you
deserve."

Davin took that as a cue and rushed past Marcine, sword raised above
his shoulder.  "Hold it!  Emera!" he shouted at the boiling mass.
"Don't hurt her!"

"From thy eternal slumber," Marcine began.  "I call to thee.."

Davin stalled a bit, not having had much experience with talking to
dead jealous slime monsters.  "Um.. I know this kind of looks bad,
Emera, but you see, it's been a while, and people have to get on with
their lives sometime, and.."

"In the name of the Manakyr, I call on the judge of the world!  Come
here, now, and rid the world of this lost soul!"

The slime trembled, uncertain, for a moment.. and then made a
decision, and angrily lunged itself at Davin.

"Hey!  Hey!  Let's talk about this!" Davin shouted, swinging his sword
from side to side, severing pseudopods of slime left and right as they
surrounded and attempted to slime him.

The globe in Marcine's hands shattered, setting skittering diamonds of
light everywhere to fill the room.  "I call on you! ALEXANDER!  HOLY
JUDGEMENT!"

Marcine vanished, as did Davin, and the ghost flailed around
confusedly for a moment.  The two floated invisibly over the scene,
and then covered their eyes as the bedroom was suddenly flooded with
blinding white light, accompanied by a harmonic note that seemed to
come from a thousand harps.

As the light cleared, there stood a giant in the room, fifteen feet
tall, a knight clad in armor whiter than white, his face unseen behind
a gleaming helmet.  Around him floated dozens upon dozens of spirits -
the elmentals of the house and surrounding grounds, now freed from
their slavery.

Before Alexander stood the image of a young girl, standing where the
slimy plasm once stood.  She gaped in wonder at the Guardian;
Alexander brought up his arm and pointed a finger to her, and she fell
to her knees, instantly acknowledging her defeat.

"What's going on?" Davin whispered to Marcine, not daring to raise his
voice amidst the scene.

"That's Alexander, the Guardian of the Dead." Marcine whispered back.
"Emera's been lost as a ghost, not knowing where to go.  Alexander
will be her judge now."

The Guardian and Emera stared at each other for a moment that seemed
to go on forever.  Then, the knight slowly moved his pointing finger
away from the girl.. and with ponderous grave, pointed upwards
instead.

Light again flooded the scene, but in the midst, Emera could be seen
gazing upward at the light's source.  She got to her feet, and then
slowly drifted upwards, towards the light..

..and then Marcine and Davin were standing back in the bedroom, with
no sign of anything that had just happened remaining in the room.

Davin spoke first.  "I.. I didn't know that a Guardian could do such a
thing."

Marcine slowly nodded.  "Yes.  When I read about Alexander.. that was
the first thing that made me suspect that magic might not be all an
evil sin."  She took a deep shuddering breath, seeming deeply
relieved. "I'm glad I was right."

There was the sound of running footsteps, and Mika dashed into the
bedroom, followed closely by Syeira.

"All right, I found you!" cried Mika happily.  "I just took care of
the ghost!  We'd better go, now!"

"You.. took care of the ghost?" Davin asked.  "What did you do,
exactly."

"Welllll.. I set up some explosives downstairs, and attached a nice
*long* fuse to it.  We've got two minutes to get out of here!"

Syeira blanched.  "Wait, two minutes?  I thought we'd have three
minutes by now."

"Oh, well, you see.." Mika scratched the back of her head.  "Fuses are
kind of unpredictable, sometimes they take a minute longer or a minute
shorter, or.."

"LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!!"

* * * * *

Davin took one last look at the flaming wreckage of Emera and Darvin's
house before starting down the path to Achal.  "Well, at least they'll
know for sure that the ghost was taken care of."

"Um-hum!" chirped Mika, satisfied with a job well done.

* * * * *

"HYAA!" Kyle, enthused with battle rage, cut down yet another cultist
as he stormed into the next room of the seemingly endless tunnels.

"Kickass, sir!" complimented Martin, stepping over a small pile of
dead bodies behind him.

Kyle breathed fast and hard, his eyes flitting left and right.
Despite Martin's optomism, the two of them were in deep trouble - they
were in an enemy's nest, walking around a maze trying to find their
bearings while being attacked by every person they saw.

{So,} echoed a voice, that seemed to come from nowhere in particular
{The great Kyle Cavanaugh has survived.. exactly one hour in the
depths of our tunnels.}

"Who's there?" shouted Kyle, twisting back and forth.

The voice laughed.  {Since you have lived this long, I feel like
giving you the privilege of knowing before you die..}

(He's arrogant, whoever he is..) thought Kyle.  "All right!  Go ahead
and tell me!"

{The Manakyr have slept in secrecy for a long time, young Dragoon.
And now, with the awakening of the heir of Darovan's legacy, the
Manakyr shall rise again - this time, to rule until the end of time!}

"How?" shouted Kyle, furious.  The stress of his situation was
beginning to make him crack.  "You think knowing Dragoon technology is
enough?  How do you intend to raise an army that can defeat the
Church?!"

The voice filled itself with smugness.  {Leviathan has come once
again, has he not?}

Kyle's blood froze.

{And now, Alexander's presence is among us as well.  Oh, our heir
makes us proud!}

"Marcine.." Kyle breathed.  "MARCINE!  MAAARCIIIIINEEEE!!!"

The voice's laughter drowned out the boy's mad screaming.

"Uh... sir?"

* * * * *

The next morning, in Achal, moods were good.

"..and so, with the house destroyed, the ghosts had nowhere to go
anymore, so they all dispersed, and Achal doesn't need to worry about
them anymore!"  Davin finished his story to an enthralled crowd at the
bar.  He had of course fudged a few details, partly to hide the fact
that Marcine had used magic and partly to make Mika happy.  But it was
still true enough.

"That was wonderful work!  A fine bunch of adventurers you all are!"
said the bartender.

"We love you, Davin!" squealed a small crowd of girls, who had nestled
up close to the young man during his story.

Tactfully ignoring them, Marcine spoke up.  "And I guess now Achal can
rebuild the bridge to Russa, right?"

A carpenter in the corner of the bar nodded.  "I figure we'll head up
this afternoon and take an hour or so to fix it back up.  You'll be
off and travelling in no time."

Marcine's eyebrow twitched.  "Oh.. well.. take your time." (So *we*
don't go plummeting down into that canyon..)

* * * * *

The next day, the party had shouldered their packs and were on the
road out of town.  Behind them, a small crowd of well-wishers were
waving them off.

"So, Marcine.." Davin said.

"What, Davin?"

Davin smiled.  "How are you feeling?"

Marcine returned the smile back.  "I feel like I'm doing the right
thing now.  Davin, magic *is* just a tool - and you can do some truly
wonderful things with it.  And from now on, I'm on a quest - I'm going
to make it so that the whole *world* understands what I understand!"

"Sounds great, Marcine!" Syeira said, giving her the thumbs-up.

"In fact.." Marcine stopped, and turned to face the townspeople.  "Hey
everybody!" she joyfully shouted, "I'm not afraid to say it LOUD and
say it PROUD!  We used MAGIC to defeat that ghost!  I'M A HERETIC
WITCH!"

Marcine would have continued, but Davin and Syeira grabbed her arms
and broke into a run.


* * * * *


Author's Notes:


Final Fantasy Legacy is a *fun* impro, and it's had a strong
beginning, and is developing well.  I hope this part fits in nicely
with the rest.

Special thanks to #improfanfic, who gave me background noise to read
while I took my writing breaks.

-Sean Givan