The calm after the storm was eerie, with only the creaking of timbers heard above the sounds of the sea. Kyle stalked the deck, anxiety hanging over him like a cloud in the overcast sky. The inaction and inability to do anything to calm his nerves were making him restless. Finally, he lifted his head up and glanced over at Jil. "Any sign yet?" Jil shook her head slowly. She had been up all the previous night, holding the ship steady during the storm, and it was only now that she was allowing a little of her fatigue to show. "Nay, lad," she answered, finally. Kyle sighed. "Why don't you take a rest... it's been a long night. I can watch the tiller." This time, Jil's expression was more determined. "Nay. There be... something in th' air. It may be another storm... I be not sure." "You can feel it too." Kyle turned at the unexpected voice, the only sign of Shizuka's almost completely silent approach. "Feel what?" he asked, slightly bemused. "This one feels... tension in the air. A storm is coming... but this one is not sure what type of storm." "What type of storm?" Kyle repeated in confusion. "What do you mean?" "I dinnae know," admitted Jil, "but th' lass be right." Kyle sighed and was about to press the issue when-- ...the storm... ...it comes... ...and death awaits... --he looked up into Jil's worried eyes, wondering how he'd ended up sprawled on the floor. "Kyle?" she asked, tentatively. "What's wrong?" "Marcine," he whispered. FINAL FANTASY LEGACY Knights of the Round Chapter 44 - Storms and Sacrifice FFL Concept by Brian Stricklin FFL #44 by Terence Fergusson "Meep!" "I'm sorry, but I don't *know* how to turn you back." "Meep meep MEEP!" Piette let out a long sigh. Communication was proving to be tricky, but it was amazing what could be related with the right amount of body language. Tantrums tended to be extremely expressive. "Look, I'm glad you saved me, and I'm really sorry about what happened to you... but we don't have time for this! I've got to find a friend of mine and fast." The imp stopped its fits of anger and paused, glancing up at Piette. Then it posed triumphantly, fist in the air. "Meep meep! Meep-meep meep meep?" The young geomancer blinked in reply. "You want to help me find him?" The imp nodded enthusiastically. "Meep, meep meep-meep-meep meep MEEP!" The accompanying gestures describing its vaunted tracking skills and legendary beastmaster techniques were unfortunately lost on Piette. "I... I don't know what to say. Uh... thank you, Mr... I never did get your--" He abruptly fell silent as a dark shadow fell over them both, sending them diving for whatever sparse cover they could find. They needn't have bothered. The airship continued on its path without deviation, and they were in no danger of being noticed. As the airship continued off towards the horizon, Piette let out a ragged breath. "Damn... that's... that's the Manakyr flagship. Where are they going now?" His imp companion jumped out from behind the rock it had been hiding behind, shaking its fist angrily at the low flying behemoth. "MEEP MEEP-MEEP!!!" "It was flying awfully low too... but...." He shook his head. "Come on." "Meep?" "My... memory's not too good, but... there's something important at stake. She... she awakened the leader of the Manakyr... and after that... after that... I can't remember. But I can't just sit here. We need to follow them." The leader of the Manakyr? The imp's eyes widened. Heresy at its greatest was at work here, and even confined as he was within this body, Beastmaster Stine would not be found wanting. "Meep!" he yelled in agreement, already running forward, leaving Piette to catch up. The chase had begun. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "You're thinking about it again, aren't you." "Yes," Marcine admitted finally. "I... don't know what I was doing. But... I can remember the feeling... how different it was." Davin smiled weakly. "You know you can't blame yourself for that... I mean...." "But I can. If I'd been more prepared... I let my guard down. I'd heard what he was like, but...." The cramped cockpit of the spider-walker was not the ideal place for conversation, but the colder climate of the north had helped counter the heat that had plagued them beforehand. The muffled sounds of the walker's steps had gradually been tuned out by the occupants, now part of the daily background noise. Davin closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Look... what's done is done. I'll admit... with what we know about Phoenix and Darovan, this isn't really a great turn of events. But... if we can get ahead of them... maybe we can turn this around." Marcine nodded, determination showing in her expression. "Yes. We have to." Davin spared an uneasy glance at the young mage, uncertain that things were okay again. But the moment passed. Sighing, he turned back to the controls. "Are we there yet?" "No, Mika, we... wait a minute." Davin turned around and frowned at Marcine. She couldn't help chuckling at his expression. "Just asking," she added, between giggles. Davin just gave her a put-upon look, which caused Marcine to laugh even more. "Hey... what's with all the noise?" Mika said crankily, peeking in from the rear section of the spider-walker. "Nothing... nothing," assured Marcine, failing at her attempts to stop laughing. Mika rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Are we there yet, big brother?" Marcine looked at Davin, then back at Mika. And burst into yet more laughter. Davin sighed, hiding his face. "For your information," he said at last, "I think we're almost there." "Really?" exclaimed Mika. "Yeah." He looked out of the cockpit into the night sky. "I've been doing a little bit of navigation... we should be directly west of Yahl Russa now. In fact, we should be able to see the sea soon, when the sun comes up." "Cool! So... where's Dwarvenhome?" "That's the problem. With the directions we got, I've located the rough area but... this isn't like Ashgar. The miners at Yahl Russa have been there for years, yet they had no idea of the dwarves living below. We may be looking for an entire dwarven city, but if they don't want to be found...." "Maybe we can find another way to locate them," Marcine suggested, having finally overcome her giggle fit. "We're going to have to." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "No... no. Heartstone most certainly does *not* rhyme with flap. You're not very good at poetry, are you...." Zarela ground her teeth. This was not what she had expected. And her so-called companion was still no help... although the fact that she seemed to have slipped quietly from drunkenness to a hangover-induced nausea was somewhat amusing. No, what was supposed to happen was that the old man would quietly hand over the Heartstone, and then she could ditch that worthless lover of heretics and engrave her revenge upon that Siegvin devil's soul. When had everything become so complicated? It was beginning to hurt her head... and she wasn't even the one with the hangover! "Of course it doesn't rhyme with flap! We're not even talking about stupid poetry! WE CAME TO ASK ABOUT THE HEARTSTONE!" "...kill me please..." whimpered Pearl. "Oh, you're shouting now," the man/horse/crow/dog lamented. "I can't think when you're making so much noise. Maybe you can think for me... can you think?" Zarela sighed as yet another change of scene took place. A blood-stained battlefield, filled with the sounds of war. In the distance, a lance-wielding horseman squared off against a six-armed monstrosity. "Obviously better than you can," she muttered. Kirin glanced away, distracted. He gazed over the apparent destruction and dead bodies littering the area. "Hmmm," he said finally. "Perhaps I should prepare for more visitors. Do you think they'd like some tea?" -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Marcine gazed up at the stars from the safety of her sleeping bag, unwilling to sleep. It was times like this that she wished that she was home, and that her life hadn't become so complicated. They'd decided to stop after Mika started complaining about being tired. Besides, Davin had reasoned, they would likely have better luck finding Dwarvenhome in the morning. The stars seemed so pretty and serene, without a care in the world. Marcine wondered what such a life would be like. But then... had she gone that path, would.... ...Davin was on the other side of the fire, sleeping peacefully. Marcine envied him slightly in that respect... he always seemed so free, even with as many responsibilities he had shouldered recently. A life without Davin. Why did Davin come into her life in the first place? Was it... fate? She wasn't sure. How long had it been since this all began, she wondered? Almost a couple of months now. She began to count the days and... ...how could she have forgotten? Tomorrow was a very special day for her. But she wondered if things like birthdays even mattered with everything else going on. It was with such thoughts that she finally found rest... and with her rest, came dreams.... -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- She stood before the crystal, red light (life?) suffusing her. It was not yet cracked, a detail that gladdened her heart. Yet she could sense that there was tension here. She could sense the battle beneath the surface. And then, something was calling her. ...the Legacy... She looked, focusing at the crystal... a brief flash of flame blanketed it. And then she replied. ...yes... ...you are close... ...but...there is not much time... ...I...know you... ...you must be here... ...but...you are not ready... ...death awaits... She drew back, stunned. What was it trying to say? ...I don't accept that... ...we knew you wouldn't... ...it will be too late... ...but you must still come... She frowned, uncertain. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She had to believe that. ...prophecy can be changed... ...fate can be overturned... ...I won't let Darovan win... ...you would not be you... ...if you did not believe that... The voice of the crystal seemed to sigh. She bit her lip nervously, feeling no pain. ...Dwarvenhome is close... ...you must be ready... ...I will... ...we know... ...until then...Marcine... And the crystal shatte-- Marcine bolted awake, gasping for breath. She looked up at the morning sun, the sight of cracks racing through the crystal still etched in her memory. That had been one of the most intense dream-visions she'd had in a while, she thought. The last time she'd had such a dream was back when... ...when she was in the Starsilver Mines. She had been shown the three Sanctuaries. Maybe, just maybe... she could use that to.... The silence around the campsite drew her attention first. The absent sleeping bags were noticed almost immediately afterwards. "Davin?" she called out. Getting to her feet, rubbing her arms against the cold, she tried to figure out where he might've disappeared to. Perhaps the spider-walker? "Davin? Mika?" They weren't in the spider-walker. She was starting to really get worried when the feeling came again... something was calling her. ...where?... She made her way down the mountainside, avoiding the scree where she could, following the insistent tugging. She finally arrived at a series of small ridges on the ground, peppered with potholes and hidden niches. And if you looked at one of those niches at just the right angle... you could see past the physical illusion. An entrance to a tunnel. She blinked as someone clambered out of that same tunnel, setting down a bowl of hot brew beside them. She blinked again when the figure looked her way, revealing the bearded face of a dwarf. The dwarf smiled brightly. "Laliho there, ma'am! We were wond'rin' when yer'd be up an' pretty. S'why I was bringin' breakfast, so to speak." He gestured at the soup. In her surprise, Marcine grabbed onto one word only. "We?" "Who ya talking to, Mr. Drond?" Marcine recognised the voice instantly, and sure enough, Mika poked her head out of the tunnel, looking around. "Oh, hi Marcine! Wow... it's cold out here... you coming inside?" Marcine shook her head, smiling to herself. Some things would never change. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "So... how did you end up finding the way in, Mika?" Marcine asked as the three of them made the slow descent into Dwarvenhome. Mika giggled nervously. "Aheh... they found us actually." "Hah!" Drond cut in. "Ye be thinkin' false if ye think ye can be marchin' around in such a noisy beast like that machine o' yers w'out ev'ry dwarf in Dwarvenhome nae hearing about it." The alchemist snickered. "Yeah. Big brother said he thought we were being watched after he woke up, so he got me up and kinda yelled out about the Champion Seal." Drond nodded slowly. "Aye. It be goin' on centuries since we be seein' a human bearin' th' Champion Seal... 'specially one so young! Th' wee lass here was tellin' me about yer adventures in Yahl Russa... quite th' yarn, it was." "Sorry about leaving you there, Marcine," Mika added, "but Davin didn't wanna wake you up. Something about needing more rest or whatever." She shrugged, seemingly unconcerned with the details. Marcine just shook her head. "Where is he, anyway?" "Oh, he went on ahead." The dwarf nodded in confirmation. "Th' wee one be tellin' us about yer bit o' trouble. Th' Sanctuary is nae open ta strangers tha' often, even considerin' what few outsiders we be gettin'. But wi' th' end o' th' world comin' close, I be thinkin' m'bee an exception could be made. Is why yer friend is talkin' ta his honor, so it is." "The end of the world?" Marcine repeated numbly. "Aye... what else would ye be callin' th' shatterin' o' th' Crystals?" They continued on in uneasy silence after that, entering the upper reaches of the great dwarven city. It reminded Marcine of Ashgar in some ways. There seemed to be little in the way of decorative features or landmarks for one, and the layout seemed very... practical. With only a few minor differences, Dwarvenhome was exactly like the outpost below the Starsilver mines... only bigger. Much bigger. Drond led them through the well-kept streets, giving Marcine a chance to see the city at work. For the most part, the inhabitants seemed unconcerned with the procession, except for the polite cries of 'Laliho' as they passed. It amazed her how little the impending crisis seemed to affect their lives. Were they even aware of what was at stake? "They know." Drond glanced back at her, catching her eye. "Ye think we be blind to th' signs? Nae. But there be no point in worryin' about things we cannae change, when there be so much else needed done. We be a practical folk, ma'am." He grinned nastily, fingering the axe at his belt. "But don't ye go thinkin' we not be ready. If push be comin' ta shove... well... let's be leavin' it at that, aye?" 'Things we cannae change'. There it was again. But... why was she here if she didn't think, even for a moment, that that wasn't true? The mayor's house was, for the most part, identical to most of the other residences they had passed by in Dwarvenhome. The only difference Marcine noted was that it was perhaps slightly bigger than usual with no other building immediately adjacent to it. Drond led them up to the doorway and through. "Laliho, yer honor! I done brought th' other two guests o' ours, so I have." The King of the Dwarves glanced up from his own conversation, smiling widely at the newcomers. "Laliho, Drond! An' laliho, Marcine an' Mika. Yer friend Davin here had plenty ta say, an' I was lookin' forward ta meetin' ya both." Davin waved slightly from the other side of the table, a steaming mug in front of him. It looked barely touched. "Laliho, Mr. King! Laliho, big brother!" Mika's enthusiasm seemed boundless as ever as she and Marcine filed into the room. "I trust ye had breakfast already, aye? Can I get ya somethin' ta drink, perhaps?" Marcine glanced at Davin, who merely shrugged. She smiled back at the Dwarf King. "We have had breakfast, thank you. Mr. Drond here brought us some soup earlier." Tharlo broke into a wide grin. "Ah, but here I be forgettin' me manners. Me name's Tharlo Bridgebreaker, mayor o' this here city." "Pleased to meet you. I'm Marcine Cavanaugh." "And I'm Mika!" cut in the young alchemist. "Good, good! Now that we be acquainted an' all, perhaps we can be gettin' down ta business...." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "You know, if you're going to continue to be so rude, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Or sit in the corner room. Or was it a circle? Hypercube perhaps?" Zarela panted, gasping for breath. She hadn't even seen the old man move! One of her most swift and potent techniques defeated, and he had the nerve to brush her off as if she were nothing! Her patience had long since ran out. She wondered how long it would be before her sanity did too. "Old man, I don't care about puppies, your imaginary guests, poetry, your toys, ice cream, ancient wars you may or may not have fought in, geology, rooms made out of fudge, philosophy, or anything else your deranged mind might come up with." She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. Kirin looked at her curiously. "Ah," he said. "I understand. You're a butterfly person." "Nor butterflies!" Zarela bellowed. Pearl winced from where she was sitting quietly. "What we want from you is your Heartstone," continued the Divine Knight, "so we can get out of here and kick Siegvin's ass!" "Siegvin?! Siegvin! Siegvin... Siegvin... Sieeeeeg-vin...." "I am *so* glad I finally got your attention," she muttered. "...I don't think I know a Siegvin. Was he invited too?" "..." "Such an ancient name as well. Now... what did it mean again.... scone? No, that's not it. Would you like some scones? They're freshly baked... well, they were last century." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The tunnel leading to the Sanctuary was fairly inconspicuous, with no immediately apparent markings that hinted at its destination. It was obviously well-maintained and kept clear of debris though. Although not often used, it was as important to the dwarves as the most productive ore mine. Tharlo led the way down, the three companions following right behind. The discussion had lasted into late afternoon, with Tharlo continually pressing the question of what they thought they could do and why they needed to be there. Marcine had not been able to give a satisfactory answer. She didn't know what she could do. She didn't know why she needed to be there. Only that she had to be. It had been that conviction that had finally won the Dwarf King over. He couldn't fault strength of feeling, and as he explained to them, sometimes a hunch was as good an indication to base decisions on as anything. "Th' Sanctuaries were built quite th' while ago," Tharlo said at last. "Would've been just after th' imprisonment o' Darovan, so it would. After Clea's Knights were broken up too. Th' Church came ta us, wantin' ta split up th' Crystals, allow them ta be better protected. Wit' Clea dead an' th' Knights gone... we agreed. "Dwarvenhome was given th' Crystal of Courage ta protect. Tienne kept th' Crystal of Wisdom. An' as fer Purity... th' Ryukin Isles, in honor o' Genji an' 'fore they lapsed back inta total isolation, aided us in th' construction of th' final Sanctuary, deep beneath th' sea." "I remember," Marcine said. "We were there." Mika looked down at her feet, but kept on walking. "Were you now... quite th' travellin' ye've done." "How far is the Sanctuary, your honor," Davin asked. "Nae far, nae far a' all." Tharlo glanced back at Marcine, a speculative look on his face. "Now... I dinnae mean ta pry, but...." "Yes?" prompted Marcine. "Ye talked 'bout th' Heartstones, an' 'bout Clea. Clea was a great woman, don't ye get me wrong. But... ye be sure ye want ta take her path? Perhaps there yet be hope... yet when Clea begun her task, there be still Crystals ta save." Marcine shook her head. "I can't just walk away from this. If there's anything that can be done to stop this... I have to try. I mean... if not me, who else is going to stop this? I'm the Legacy. I have no--" --choice. Liar. There's always a choice. Or don't you believe what you said about fate and destiny? I believe. I think. But I have to do this. I must. You want to. You won't turn away. No can't. No must. There's always a-- "--choice." She paused, then nodded slightly. "I want to do this. That's my answer." Tharlo nodded. "Th' best answer ye could give, I be thinkin'. An' a good thin' it is too. 'Cause here we be." At that, he stopped at a wide opening in front of them which led into a grand cavern, etched out of the rock itself. Ornate carvings and runes were etched over the walls, giving it a decorative feel that was missing from the city above. In the very centre of the room, taking up much of the floorspace, lay a mosaic depicting the true form of the Tri-fan, the blades each a vivid polished shade. And floating serenely above the mosaic was the Crystal of Courage. Bright flashes and flickering within the crystal gave fair warning of the tension it was under, but to be standing within its rays was awe-inspiring, even so. Taking a deep breath, Marcine crossed the threshold and entered the hall proper. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The mountains over Dwarvenhome were calm and tranquil. On a clear day like this, one could easily gaze across the ocean and hear the cry of the various seabirds that made this part of the peninsula their home. The wind was crisp and cut to the bone, blowing in from the icy water of the Northern Reaches. But there was not a cloud in the sky to be seen, no storm to be found. And then something blotted out the sun. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Lumina, Knight of the Moon, gazed up through the trees at the squat tower before her. She frowned slightly, her expression soon becoming a pout. "Gilgie's Heartstone's here with that old fuddy-duddy Kirin?" she complained. "That bites!" "Say, bro, you 'member anything 'bout this Kirin guy?" Sacred asked, scratching his head. Minotaur snorted. "You should know. 'e had ya in that freaky staircase place for a day after ya acc'dently crushed one of 'em frackle-thingie butterflies. Somethin' 'bout disturbin' th' laws of time an' space or whatever." "Oh yeah! Man, I got vertigo for a week from that." Lumina glanced back at her two bodyguards, serious once more. "Sacred, Minotaur, have you seen anyone who might have been carrying the Heartstone of Infinity?" Minotaur shook his head. "Nah, boss. Forest's quiet." "...the leaves are ticklin' me nose..." Sacred mumbled. The Knight sighed, hands on hips. "Well, we're too late to try and get into that stupid old goat's tower right now. Silly time lock. Guess we have to wait." She sat down, legs crossed. "This is gonna be *sooooooooo* boring." There was silence for a few moments. "Ya wanna play 'I spy', boss?" "Trees." "Damn, boss, ya always do that." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- ...you came... It spoke to Marcine directly and clearly, ignoring the distance between them. She approached the crystal alone, the others hanging back near the entrance. ...you realise what this means, do you not?... Marcine shook her head slowly. She stopped a few inches from the crystal and gazed within it... quickly becoming lost in the flicker within. But what was it supposed to mean? ...maybe nothing...but...it seems that at least some parts that were foretold have come to pass... Foretold? Again, fate reared its ugly face. She would have none of it. ...we know...but we doubt you would be here now were it not for him... Who? ...Davin... Davin? How is he tied up in this? ...we do not know...but... But what? ...I cannot explain satisfactorily... Why not?! ...we do not have the luxury to discuss this...and there is still much to say...we must speak later... No. Tell me-- ...your life is in the balance...you seek to take up the burden we placed upon Clea... Yes, but-- ...are you prepared?... ... ...yes. ...then turn... Wait! I-- ...turn around, Legacy... There was an urgency she had not expected in that request. She turned. "Hello, Marcine." Darovan. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The assault had begun with little warning; several spells had blasted through the ceiling of the cavern Dwarvenhome was situated in, causing tons of rock to rain upon the city. Seconds after the dust had settled, the Manakyr descended upon the inhabitants. The dwarves were ready for them, however, and although surprised, they adapted quickly. The first mages to teleport in were beset upon immediately, steel and starsilver effortlessly carving through their ranks, leaving the survivors to throw up whatever defensive spells they could. The second wave was similarly met, and it seemed at first that the dwarves had the advantage. The tide began to turn when the Atma Beasts literally leapt into the fray. Though few in number, they began to take the brunt of the dwarves attacks, allowing the Manakyr time to prepare. But the dwarves still had advantage in numbers. Many broke past the fearsome creatures and pressed the charge home, disrupting spells and cutting the unprepared down. The magical artillery from the airship above helped equal the balance slightly, but the dwarves were hardy and they fought in defense of their home. Casualties among them were low, and the Manakyr were slowly being beaten back. But then the Calling appeared. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Piette could barely believe his eyes. He clung tighter to the infernal beast his new imp friend had commandeered, and wished that he was hallucinating. But the giant knight clad in shining white armour, floating above the crater was no hallucination. "Alexander," the scholar whispered to himself, half in awe, half in terror. The Guardian of the Dead surveyed the city beneath him silently... and then levelled its arm at the main bulk of the dwarven forces below. "Meep-meep meep MEEP!" the imp squeaked out, quivering with rage. "But... there's no lost souls to take," Piette said in confusion. "What have they Called him f--" The blast of pure light hurled stone and debris high into the air, scattering the inhabitants. Steadily, Alexander directed the beam of energy like a scalpel, cutting through the ranks of the dwarves. Within seconds, the Guardian's assault ceased, and Alexander himself vanished from sight. But the damage was done. The dwarven attack was crippled, and the Manakyr surged forward, moving on to the offensive. "This isn't right," Piette said finally. "We've got to help them... try to stop the Manakyr somehow. I think I remember... look, can you get us in there?" "Meep meep!" confirmed the imp, nodding enthusiastically. Heresy of this magnitude would not go unpunished. It gave the mount a slight tap at the side of its head... and the creature responded. It was all Piette could do to hold on as best he could as the Atma Beast raced forward, finally making a giant leap into the gaping hole. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "That was very rude of you, my Legacy, refusing my hospitality earlier." Marcine quickly glanced around the hall, regaining her bearings. Davin was getting to his feet at the far side of the room, presumably having been flung by whatever attack Darovan had used. Mika was similarly recovering, but seemed more shaken than hurt. And Tharlo.... Darovan spun on his heel, raising his hand and yelling "DIBOLT!" in one smooth motion. The Dwarf King was caught mid-leap by the magical bolt of lightning, sending him back the way he came. He landed heavily, but bounced straight back to his feet. "Let's be seein' ye try that again," Tharlo taunted, axe held out in front of him. "By all means," Darovan replied. "Aurora, exhale bloody air, call forth your tainted light! Shadow Flare!" The Dwarf King brought his weapon to bear, and a single glowing amber rune appeared on the head of the axe. Using it as a shield, he held it up to the magical forces rushing towards him. There was a bright flash as the two collided... and to Marcine's surprise, the spell began to fade in intensity. The conflict of power continued for a few seconds, but finally, the strength of the spell was too much for the technique Tharlo had employed. The rest of the black energy surged forward, holding in place while explosions racked his body. As it ended, a last jolt threw him back against the nearest wall. He didn't get up. The archmage snorted. "Now, where were we... ah, yes." Marcine placed herself between him and the Crystal, glaring defiantly. "Such a look," Darovan chuckled. "I must thank you for your aid earlier... my consort recovers as we speak." He ignored Marcine's grimace, tapping a finger against his lips instead, as if contemplating something. "But... there is one matter that requires attention." He took a step towards Marcine, hand outstretched. "You'll not get past me," Marcine retorted. Darovan looked surprised, then smiled. "The Crystal? We will discuss that in a moment. No, you will hand over the Heartstone of Wind first. Now." Marcine blinked. "The Heartstone of Wind? What...." The archmage scowled. "No games, please. I will have Madonna's Heartstone back or--" He paused, glancing at Marcine's necklace... at the amber Heartstone she wore. Marcine immediately placed her hands around it protectively. When he looked away, he seemed almost disappointed. "The Heartstone of Earth. If you'd had what I seek, it would at least be... hmph. It appears you speak the truth. No matter. I will find the one who stole it and... retrieve it." Then he smiled menacingly. "Back to our true business, I suppose. Step aside, my Legacy." Marcine shook her head. "Not this time." Her retort was met with a dark chuckle. "So be it." And then he raised his hand.... ...and Marcine threw up her hands to shield her eyes from the blinding flash that erupted between them. A slender hand pulled on her arm. "C'mon, Marcine, we can take that big jerk," Mika yelled, preparing more explosive mixtures. Marcine nodded, stepping back and gathering her own strength. Determination unlocked yet deeper reserves.... "Trapped in the moment, reverse the course of mana! Reflect!" Even as invisible enchantments rushed to protect her, Davin charged at the Manakyr archmage, a shadowy aura around him. "Deadly blade swing and swirl with gleeful grace! Slash!" With that, he brought his argent blade around in a wide arc, bringing it down in a cleaving slash.... ...that only clipped Darovan as he sidestepped at the last second. Without pause, he focused on the elementalist. "...grant your power to my hand, that together we may extinguish the light of hope! Unholy!" Davin fell back, trying to fend off most of the power of the spell with the Ashura Blade, but was blasted further away regardless. Marcine bit back a cry, and concentrated on the attack. "Hail from the north, the cold of space, bring thine might before me and form a blizzard... the perfect winter! Tri-Ice!" Crystal shards coalesced around the Manakyr leader, swiftly forming into an impenetrable cage of ice, collapsing in on itself. Mika joined in on the assault, complementing the ice spell with flasks of fire that burned with a clear blue flame. Darovan emerged from the cataclysm only slightly the worse for wear. He smiled darkly. "Vanish," he said, simply. And so he did. Mika blinked. "Is it over?" Marcine looked about wildly. "No, he's still here. He hasn't left. Where is he...?" "Very good, my Legacy," came the mocking voice. Davin swung at the direction it had come from, but met only empty air. Marcine closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. Darovan may have become invisible to normal sight but... there had to be some weakness. "...force which rent heaven and earth...." She tried to focus on the chanting... what was different...? "...destroyer of the starry void...." The flows of magic were distorted, she noticed. They were converging on one spot. It was like... a mana vortex. Anything cast into it couldn't help but hit the centre.... "...rain of torment and annihilation...." "TriBolt!" Marcine yelled, focusing on the distortion itself. The bolt of lightning, easily her size, leapt forward from her outstretched hand... and then vanished into the vortex, discharging its power all at once into a single concentrated point. Darovan screamed in agony, fading into sight once more. He fell to his knees, battered and bloodied. But his chant continued uninterrupted: "...unleash the fury of the Gods upon the infidels of this world! Meteor!" Instantly, a rift opened up directly above the Manakyr archmage, a myriad of stars twinkling within. And then the meteors came. Mika got off lightly, being knocked off her feet by the first one to hit, and just managing to keep herself from being nailed by a second. Davin attracted a few and was forced onto the defensive once more, trying to deflect the huge boulders with the Ashura Blade. He was only partially successful. Marcine was hit the worst. The reflective barrier she'd put up was shattered as the meteorites smashed into her one after another. Beaten back, it was only sheer luck that kept her from being fatally injured... and it was a miracle she was still conscious when the spell finally ended. Darovan sniffed in derision. "You have a lot to learn, girl." "Bastard!" Davin yelled as he charged. "Sword weave in drunken dance of destruction! Split!" He stabbed forward, drawing blood from the archmage. "Inhabit flesh and steel as malignant needle!" he continued, not missing a beat. "Sta--!" "Flare," was Darovan's calm reply. The explosion of red light hurled Davin away in mid-technique, kicking up dust as he finally landed in a painful heap. The archmage smiled as he watched Davin struggle to get back up. "Pitiful." "Big brother!" Mika cried. She glared at Darovan, eyes narrowed. "I'll show you...." She retrieved ingredients from her bag, following her instincts more than learned rote, and swiftly prepared the mixture she had in mind. "Eat this," she yelled, hurling the resulting vial at the Manakyr leader. "Dark Matter!" The vial exploded in front of the mage... and then matter erupted. Darovan screamed as the waves of darkness enveloped him, tearing at his flesh. He fell to his knees once more, trying desperately to shield himself from the brunt of the attack. Marcine glanced up, seeing the distraction. She had to help, had to do something... but what? As the light green Egg found its way into her hand, she knew what she had to do. "From thy eternal slumber I call to thee... Guardian of the Land, born of the Worldtree, I conjure thee...." The Dark Matter faded, but before Darovan could recover, Davin was there, sword upraised. "Holy Blade!" he shouted, bringing the glowing white blade across in a vicious cut. Darovan staggered back, pressing his hand against the wound. "...come, Midgar Zolom...come, Great Worm of the Earth...scatter my foes with thine great strength...." With the last ounce of strength she could muster, she raised the egg into the air. "Terra Break!" The egg shattered... and she and her friends vanished from sight. Darovan coughed, looking up in alarm as the ground was smashed open from below, revealing the hooded head of a giant snake. It hissed menacingly at him, before gathering itself up to its full height. Thinking quickly, he gathered his power. "Guardian spirits, almighty souls, shield me from harm! Wall!" The rainbow-coloured barrier went up just in time. Diving forward, the Midgar Zolom crashed into him, slamming him into the ground and peppering him with shards of debris. In an instant, it was over. Darovan picked himself up, sneering at Marcine as she faded back in. He took a moment to spit out the blood in his mouth. "Nicely done... that almost killed me. Almost." He produced a bluish-white globe, chanting under his breath and held it up. "But now, it's my turn." Davin was already closing the distance, attacking once more, while Mika tried to tend to Marcine's wounds. But it was too late. "I call upon you, Shiva, Mistress of Winter! Diamond Dust!" Davin bit back a curse as the archmage disappeared, evading his assault. Marcine looked up at the storm of ice that materialised from nowhere... and then *she* was there. Shiva, the Goddess of Purity. Their eyes met, and Shiva shook her head once. A crystal tear hit the ground. The unbelievable chill that overwhelmed her was the last thing Marcine knew before she lost consciousness. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Darovan smiled grimly as he reappeared, the magical blizzard having finally died down. He surveyed the scene carefully, casting his eye over those who had stood against him. The swordsman's breathing was ragged and heavy, and although wounded, he would recover soon. But not soon enough. The young alchemist was in slightly worse shape, only on the very border of consciousness. She would not be a problem. And as for the Legacy... she still lived. Good. Perhaps the wounds were fatal, perhaps not. He could deal with either. Her inability to defend herself at the present would make claiming her all the easier. But priorities first. He stalked towards the crystal. The flashes within seemed to spark and rage all the more as he drew near. "Hmph." He raised a hand. "And now... the imprisonment ends. "Tri-Ice." The ruby-faceted shard stopped abruptly, its steady spin halted. Ice shards coalesced around it, temperature dropping rapidly. A single crack appeared in the flawless surface of the crystal. Darovan produced a small green jewel, the same one he'd taken from his tomb in Tienne. "It's time." And then the Crystal of Courage shattered.... -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Racing through the rubble-filled streets of Dwarvenhome, Piette clung to his ride for dear life, only raising his head enough to be able to utilise his Geomancy effectively. Thankfully, the spirits here were eager and willing to help, attacking and harrying the cruel invaders of their home. His imp friend seemed to be having the time of his life. Even restricted as it was by its current form, it effortlessly guided the Atma Beast through the Manakyr ranks. Somehow, it had picked up a dwarven halberd from the battlefield, and was using it with deadly efficiency. It seemed that the entire battlefield stood still when the shaft of black light burst into the sky, visible for all to see. It looked... sickly. Piette's stomach turned. "N... no...." And then it faded, and the time resumed. The battle never even stopped for a second. Piette numbly attracted the imp's attention. He gestured over to where the pillar of light had emerged from. Stine understood. And as Piette dismounted, the imp covering his back, he raced down the nearest tunnel, heading where instinct directed. He knew he was too late. But something told him that... if he hurried... there would still be hope. The Gods strike him down if he was too late for that. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- A black pillar of light that split the sky. And the final Sanctuary Flame flickering... and dying. Whether those who witnessed it knew what it meant or not, the effect on them was the same. It was a crushing blow to the people of Tienne's fragile spirits. Cid turned away from the window, his face ashen. "I had hoped I'd never live to see this day." He turned in time to catch Cecilina entering the room. "You saw?" she asked simply. He nodded once slowly. "He may come here next. We have to be ready for that." "But what can we do?" she asked plaintively. "I don't know." He turned to look at the horizon again. The light may have vanished, but to his eyes, the sky still seemed... drained. "But we can't just sit still. "We can't just wait." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- The ray of light was visible even further south than Tienne. "What the hell was that?!" Kyle shouted, turning away from the gunwale. "That was in the direction of Tienne!" "Dwarvenhome, this one believes," Shizuka said simply. "It was the breaking of the storm." "Dwarvenhome... no... Marcine!" He knelt slowly to the deck, trying to understand what this meant. Jil glanced back from the tiller, frowning slightly. "I dinnae know what be happenin' ta th' far north, but we be here fer a reason. An' there she be." Kyle glanced up. Sure enough, a tinge of yellow could be seen on the southern horizon. An island of desert. He got up angrily, striding towards Jil. "What? No! We've got to go back!" The captain scowled. "Back? Nay! Who do ye think ye be? Some knight in arm'r ta rush in an' save ya sister?" Kyle grunted at that, but she pressed on. "We be hundreds o' leagues from north'rn Russa. She'll have ta do w'out ye help fer now. Besides... she be countin' on us... on you... ta find th' last Heartstones. Are ye willin' ta throw that away?" The Dragoon Knight looked down at his feet. "...no," he said, finally. He turned and walked away, gazing back to the north. "Stay... stay alive, Marcine," he whispered. Stay alive, Mika, Shizuka echoed in her thoughts. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Davin slowly struggled to his feet, staggering slightly as he did so. His whole body felt as if it was on fire, but he *needed* to be upright. Now more than ever. "Ah, good. Just in time. I would hate to have had no one to witness this moment." Davin growled. "You." Darovan smiled, and held up the small green crystal in his hand. "Long ago... power overwhelming was imprisoned by three noble beings. Why? Because they feared it. They feared the hate it would bring." "Why are you telling me this?" "So that you will understand what is to come." And then the crystal flared with a blinding black light... and Darovan screamed in pain. Davin tried to get close enough to strike, but the aura that surrounded the archmage drove him back. He found himself unable to break through it... he simply lacked the strength. The light show finally dispersed, and Darovan stood calmly, swaying a little. Dark flames lapped up against his body, a power that buried itself just underneath the skin. The lifeless crystal fell from his hand and rolled slowly away. "What... what are you?" Davin demanded. "A foolish question. I am Darovan. And I have claimed the power Odin spoke of. Would that he could see me now! But... make no mistake... *I* am in control." He smiled slightly. "It feeds on hatred. It doesn't care who masters it, who controls it. It simply grows fat on that latent fury. Can't you feel it?" Davin shivered, despite himself. "Ah, yes," mused Darovan. "There is one more piece of business I must take care of." He began to move towards Marcine, but Davin immediately blocked the archmage's path. "You shan't have her!" "You are in no position to make demands of me, dog." He moved forward again. "Holy Blade!" shouted the elementalist, stabbing forward with the brightly shining blade... but as it struck the flames surrounding Darovan, sparks flew and the Ashura Blade... *slid*, a horrible screeching sound accompanying the strike. Davin staggered back, his forearms numb. "W-what?" Darovan chuckled. "Amusing." He gestured serenely at Davin, not even looking at him, and uttered a single word: "Hatred." A cacophony of screams and tainted light surrounded the elementalist, torturing and tormenting him further. His own cry joined the others as he fell back, unable to free himself from the dread magic. As it ended, he dropped bonelessly to the floor, defeated. Darovan stepped over him, paying him no more heed. He finally stopped as he reached Marcine. "My Legacy." He knelt down, and-- "Stay away from her!" The archmage scowled, glancing back up. "Who dares?!" Piette stepped into the chamber, an old tattered scroll in his hand. Darovan smiled slightly. "Ah... you. Why have you come here after your escape? Perhaps you had a change of heart over where your allegiance lies? I still have to thank you for the part you played in my release...." Piette shook his head. "Step away from Marcine." Anger clouded Darovan's face. "Are you so willing to throw your life away for a hopeless cause? Leave now and you may still yet live!" The young heretic sighed. "I guess you leave me no choice." "I'm glad you see it that way." Darovan turned his attention to Marcine once more. "Souls of the restless dead who thirst for vengeance...." His head jerked up again. "No! You *fool*!" He sprang to his feet, preparing whatever spell he could muster in time.... "...channel your rage through me and cause our enemy to suffer! Reckoning!" Piette's entire body spasmed once... and then the souls responded. The channel of pure energy eclipsed them both, racing through Darovan's body. The black flames hungrily lapped at the fury inherent in the attack... but it was not enough to save Darovan from the world of pain that awaited him. The channel finally ebbed then ceased entirely. Piette fell forward, unconscious before he even hit the floor. Darovan, however, still stood, but even that was temporary. He collapsed to his knees, staring at his shaking hands. "No... not so soon... I won't... won't allow it...." He moved again towards Marcine, intent on his prize.... "Neither will I." Tharlo Bridgebreaker stood once more, axe in hand. His left arm hung uselessly at his side and he seemed to be favouring his right leg, but it was clear that the challenge was no bluff. "No... you won't stop me... TriB--" his voice trailed off, and he stared again at his empty hands. "Too damn weak... curse that fool!" He shook his head defiantly, and raised a fist to the sky. "EXIT!" A white column of light erupted around Darovan, and when it faded, the archmage was nowhere to be seen. Tharlo breathed a sigh of relief. With everything else that had happened, losing the Legacy would've been the final blow. And perhaps the Manakyr would follow Darovan's example and pull back in retreat. He limped over to Mika and roused her as best he could. Even with the ancient Tri-fan destroyed, there was still much to do. And not much time to do it in. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- "No muffins! No muffins at all! Or toast! No, no buns, no crumpets, no scones, no-- Peaaaaaaarl?! Make him stop!" Zarela finally broke down and bawled. The old man just wouldn't LISTEN to her! Why couldn't she just have a nice relaxing fight with some evil demon? It just wasn't FAAAAAAAIR! Pearl got up slowly, walked over to Zarela, and patted her gently on the shoulder. "Zarela?" she said softly. The knight glanced up and wiped a few tears away with her arm. "Y-yes?" "Please shut up," Pearl said, smiling. "O-okay." Pearl left her there, and looked up at the old man. The scenery had changed once more, becoming an awe-inspiring starscape that captured the imagination. With the vestiges of the hangover still affecting her, it just gave Pearl vertigo. "Kirin," she said slowly, "Knight of Time. I humbly apolo--" The old man staggered back as if struck. "Wh-what?!" "--gise..." she trailed off, alarmed. "What's wrong?" "The... it's been released. All this... all this time... the Fourth Crystal... it's needed...." The Fourth Crystal? "Y-yes... we need the Heartstone. Your--" "My Heartstone! My heart! Yes, yes, take it, take it!" He produced a glowing piece of amethyst... the Heartstone of Time. Moving quickly with a speed that belied his ancient figure, he pressed it into Pearl's hands. "Take it to the Legacy... the Legacy... I had time in my hand... and wasted it... wasted away...." "Uh... thanks," she said, unnerved at the change in the Knight's manner. "Come on, Zarela, let's get out of here." "...away and away and away... what did it mean?..." Zarela slowly got to her feet, throwing a fearful glance at Kirin's direction. "We can... go? Really? Can we?" "...the Fallen One took a name... called himself Siegvin..." Pearl nodded. "Let's find our own way out." "...Siegvin...it means...it means..." "It means 'scorned'." The sound of slashing blades. The sickening tear of flesh. Zarela's face grew hard. "You!" Pearl knew what she would see when she turned, and feared it all the same. Yet turn she did. Siegvin idly wiped each of his blades on a handful of cloth. "Your idle pratter was beginning to bore me," he idly commented. "I will have the Heartstone now. Whether you die before or after I retrieve it is the only thing in question." "I bleed..." mumbled Kirin. Pearl marvelled at the fact that he still lived from such a cut. Pearl prepared her scythes even as Zarela drew her beloved Gustav. "You'll pay for stealing Nikolai!" yelled the Divine Knight. "...I bleed... in my own home. No. Not in Pandemonium." Kirin got to his feet, and all that was human about him vanished. "You should have died from that, old man," Siegvin snarled. "Luck fares you well." Kirin, Knight of Time, the legendary beast that bends time and space to his will... roared out his answer. And then space wrapped itself around him, and he was gone. And suddenly, the world around Pearl collapsed and twisted in on itself. She bit back a scream, but there was nothing she could do about it. She was in hell. She was in Pandemonium. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Lumina blinked in surprise. Then jumped to her feet. "Kirin! He's hurt!" Minotaur and Sacred sank into battle stances within moments of her cry, but the Knight of the Moon paid them no heed. She ran for the clock tower. "'ere, boss, what--" "You two," she yelled, interrupting Minotaur, "keep watch on the tower. I'm going in!" "Goin' in?" Sacred said amidst confusion. "But th' door isn't--" "LUNE ECLIPSE!" The air around Lumina grew dark, even as she became brighter. Time wilted at her passing... and the clock tower door ground open as she approached it. She slipped inside a second later... and time rushed back in to fill the gap. The stone slab closed noiselessly behind her. "Uh, bro?" Sacred said after a while. "Why didn't th' boss just like do that ta start with?" "Beats me." -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Marcine opened her eyes slowly, trying to shake the cobwebs out of her head. "...what? Where?" She looked up from where she lay, into Davin's eyes. "Take it easy, Marcine. It's okay." "What... what happened? Where's Darovan?" "He's... he's gone. Piette and Tharlo managed to drive him off." Davin closed his eyes, letting out a ragged sigh. "Piette? He's here? I'm so glad! Where is he?" "Marcine." The hollow tones in Davin's voice stopped her dead. "What happened?" she asked carefully. "I... I don't know what he did. Mika says he's fine... physically. But he won't wake up." "Piette...." Marcine shivered, suddenly feeling all so cold. "Marcine," Davin started. "I'm sorry, Marcine. I couldn't stop him. The crystal... it's...." He broke off, not saying anything more. Marcine didn't need to hear anymore to know what had happened. Dwarvenhome wrecked, Piette comatose and a long forbidden and deadly power unleashed upon the world. She shook her head in despair. Happy 18th birthday, Marcine. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Author's Notes: Not much to say, really. This may be the heralding in of the final stage of Final Fantasy Legacy, but there's still a long ways to go. Don't expect it to be easy. Many thanks to Brian Stricklin, Kate Malloy and Scott Schimmel for looking over this before it went up. And thanks to you for reading this ^_^ Til next time, Terence Fergusson -- Student of Advanced Murphodynamics