Chapter Text
“The river forked somewhere around here, so that means he may have ended up…” Edgar traced the blue snaking line on the map with his fingertip, biting his lip. Sabin could have been swept away all the way to Doma castle, or even as far as the sea. There was no way of knowing what happened until they reunited.
They had only been able to spend a few days together after nearly a decade and then fate pulled them apart yet again. Such a cruel twist in the road it was.
“Speculating where that bear of a brother of yours ended up again?” a gruff voice asked from behind Edgar in the kitchen.
Edgar sighed. He knew he was supposed to be helping plan how to get the Narshe Elder to see reason, to join the Returners in their fight, but every time he looked at a map, his thoughts would stray back to Sabin. “I’m praying that he’s safe and will make his way here without any trouble.”
“Yes, we all are,” Banon sank into one of the straight-backed chairs across from Edgar with his pipe and puffed on it. The air in the kitchen, and soon the whole house, would end up constantly smelling of tobacco at the rate Banon smoked. Everybody had their vices. With the snow beating against the town, they couldn’t open a window to let the smoke dissipate.
“If he’s lucky, he’ll be able to make his way to a harbor that the Empire hasn’t taken yet. Maybe use those muscles to work for the sailors to earn a seat on the boat.”
Terra padded into the kitchen and filled the kettle from the water bucket and got it ready to boil over Arvis’ wood stove. She gave them each a smile after wiping her hands off on the nearby towel.
“What are you planning for the day, girl?” Banon asked, blowing smoke out through his nostrils.
“I’m not sure. I helped Arvis wash our clothes already,” Terra replied and stood next to the counter, interlacing her fingers together and frowning.
There really wasn’t much to do besides speculate, plan, worry, and wait. Terra already told them everything she remembered about the Empire, Kefka, even the dream where she was casting spells in what must have been a training yard with a younger Celes. Banon told her to come to them as soon as more memories returned to her, even if they seemed mundane because they could provide clues for weaknesses.
The main piece of information they gleaned so far was that Kefka was obsessed with her, with her power, and acted as if she was his possession to use as he pleased. The general’s screams for her at the castle once he laid eyes on her only hinted at the relationship.
Kefka wouldn’t be invading Narshe solely for the frozen esper. He would be coming for Terra as well. The whispers from the Returner’s Hideout about Kefka’s behavior and how he treated Terra weren’t exaggerations if her memories were true. Edgar wondered over and over why Kefka didn’t act so possessive over Celes as well. Perhaps another person in the Empire claimed her. But Celes hasn’t been wearing a slave crown according to reports from the Returners.
How differently would everybody think of Celes if she had a slave crown on her head during the attack on Maranda? As far as they knew, Celes fought mainly with General Leo until her recent promotion.
“How about we find you some books to read? And that radio drama we listened to last week at the hideout should be on again tonight,” Edgar turned in his seat and faced her. “I have a few recommendations if you’re interested!”
“We’d better be careful to not let the townspeople see her,” Banon said, “You should be fine to go out, but people may not take kindly to seeing her in the streets.”
The kettle started whistling, startling them all. The shrill sound seemed timed to emphasize how serious the situation was. It would take effort to convince the townspeople that Terra wasn’t going to hurt them. The slave crown was locked up somewhere safe until they could figure out how to destroy it. Arvis waited for Banon’s opinion on what to do with the crown and keeping it locked away seemed like the best option they had at the moment.
Terra took the kettle off the heat and measured out the loose tealeaves into the infuser and put them along with the boiling water into the teapot to steep.
Edgar pulled a pad of paper and a pen to him from across the table and started scribbling down titles of books to take to the library later. He hoped they didn’t have a limit on how many books they could borrow.
When Terra sat a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Edgar noticed a familiar earring in Terra’s earlobe. It was made of shined ruby beads, and he at once knew who it belonged to. That explained why she kept touching her ear when she seemed anxious.
Before Edgar could pause Terra for a word, commotion came from the front door of the house, followed by voices.
“Arvis! Banon! We finally made it!”
Relieved and excited greetings spilled into the kitchen along with a trio of Returners he recognized from the hideout. They didn’t look injured thankfully, only exhausted from their trek. Arvis hurried over to Terra and helped her start another pot of tea and prepping food for their sudden guests.
After supper and listening to the radio drama, the new arrivals clustered in Arvis’ sitting room to discuss what they encountered during their journey to Narshe from the hideout. They marched north through the valley from the hideout and followed old mountain trails all the way to Narshe. No Imperials appeared to have followed them at all, but Banon suggested that maybe they will need to put lookouts facing that direction to make sure nobody truly followed them.
Terra finished rinsing off the last plate, dried her hands on a dishtowel after setting the plate in the dish rack, and joined Arvis at the kitchen table. Edgar and Banon went to the general store earlier that day to buy more supplies for the other Returners, and while they were out, Edgar picked up the books he promised from the library. She wasn’t expecting more than a couple of novels, but the king brought back quite the bounty to choose from!
There were books on technology, histories from different kingdoms, and diaries from distant rulers in the basket along with the books that had titles like “The Romance of The Forest” and “Quelling Rosemary’s Heart.”
The first book she decided to read was a coming of age story according to the notes Edgar wrote next to each title. Perhaps reading about a young lady from an affluent family trying to grow up and find meaning in her life without being constrained by her overbearing mother would be a good diversion from worrying about what was going to happen next.
“Yeah, we’re siblings! I thought you knew,” Henley explained while fluffing his pillow at the top of his sleeping bag. Terra sat a folded gray wool blanket next to him and gave Sasha the matching cream-colored blanket. Arvis’ large collection of blankets was coming in handy with his ever growing list of guests.
“I know it’s hard to tell since I’m so fashionable and he’s such a messy scrub,” Sasha added, grinning at her brother, “You’re going to have to tame that beard before it eats your face.”
Henley stuck his tongue out at her but rubbed his chin when he turned back to his bag to stuff his dirty clothes inside.
They got a cot for Banon set up in Arvis’ bedroom to make room for Henley, Sasha, and Lizzie in the other bedroom where Terra and Edgar were sleeping. They adjusted their sleeping bags, so Terra was tucked up against the wall near the window in a line with Edgar, Sasha’s was set up so the head of hers was against the adjacent wall near Terra with their travel bags in between them. Henley’s sleeping bag was lined up against the wall on the other side of Sasha’s, and Lizzie was set up against the opposite wall near Edgar.
Henley made a joke that he and the ladies should set their sleeping bags up surrounding him so they could all huddle for warmth, but everybody save Terra protested by throwing whatever little items were nearby. She wasn’t sure why the suggestion made Lizzie’s face go red, but shook her head when Henley singled her out after he noticed that she didn’t throw any shoes or hairbrushes at him like the others did.
“I don’t want to accidentally step on you if I have to get up in the middle of the night,” Terra said simply.
Sasha laughed, “Henley, what would Audrey say if she showed up and saw you all cozied up with Terra? You’re already on thin ice with her!” She finished tying her thick red curls up into a bun at the top of her head so it wouldn’t be unruly to deal with in the morning.
“And think about what Locke would do if he walked in on that, too,” Lizzie snickered and removed the brass goggles from where they rested around her neck. “You’d be a smear on the cobblestones after those two got through with you!”
“Audrey’s staying in Zozo, so I won’t have to worry about that at all!”
“Do not forget that I too am on the Terra Protection squad! Ever on the lookout for foes ready to take advantage of our lovely lady!” Edgar said lightly as he entered the room with another stack of blankets for the group. His long blond tresses were loose down his back, ready for a good brushing before getting to bed. He distributed the blankets to everybody before settling on top of his sleeping bag with his legs crossed and grabbed his hairbrush.
“I don’t think there even needs to be such a squad. She could just set people on fire if they tried to hurt her,” Lizzie gave Henley a nasty grin and glanced over at Terra, “Ain’t that right, Terra?”
Terra gave this some thought, “I suppose, but I don’t want to hurt anybody if I don’t have to.”
Sasha laughed again, “You’d better keep that in mind, little brother!”
Henley squirmed for a moment, glaring at Sasha, “Ugh, whatever, I’m going to get some cocoa.” And with that, he hopped to his feet and left the room in a hurry.
The steam engines were ugly, not polished like those in Figaro. They were smoky with grime that not even the snow could hide. Despite the power coal provided, the soot and residue that built up over time meant maintenance was ever the more essential or else they could face explosions. The wind was blowing down from the mountain in heavy gusts, causing snowflakes to slap into Edgar’s face and all he could do was grin and bear it until they entered the coal miner’s headquarters at the western side of town below the Elder’s house.
They had to weave through the narrow streets around the constantly chugging machinery and the people tending them. The people of Narshe worked around the clock in shifts to maintain the many different types of boilers and steam engines that powered the entire town with the relatively new invention of electricity. Edgar recognized some of his designs around the town, but they were modified to produce more power than what was needed for Figaro.
Even though it was just past noon, the gray clouds above cast a shroud of darkness over the town and the tall kerosene lamps were already lit.
“Ah, here we are,” Banon said, looking up at the wooden sign nailed above the door of a large building. Mine carts without wheels were parked in a lot out front, some filled with pickaxes and shovels and buckets, others were in various states of repair.
He knocked on the heavy wooden door and they waited for a few moments before a gruff man’s voice called, “I’m coming, I’m coming!”
When the door opened, a young man’s face half covered in a curly black beard peered out at them. He was wearing the typical flannel button-up shirt and overalls that most of the miners wore. He furrowed his brows and asked, “What do you two want? I’m busy.”
“What we’d like is a word with your boss and to come in out of the snow,” Banon replied, not fazed at all by the man’s attitude.
“I don’t got no boss,” the man scowled, but opened the door wide enough for Banon and Edgar to enter the building.
Edgar glanced around at the large open space. There were two long tables set up with benches on both sides and a big fireplace burning what appeared to be fresh logs. Kerosene globe lights hung down from the ceiling and gave the room a warm glow. There were maps tacked up along the walls detailing the different railroad routes, paths through the mines, mountain passes, and Edgar noticed red chalk lines and circles drawn across one of the larger maps.
Banon took a seat on one of the benches without being invited and brushed the quickly melting snow off his face with the back of his gloved hand. “What do you mean you got no boss? I thought Stark was still in charge of all you miners.”
The young man crossed his arms over his chest and frowned, “That was my Papaw. He got blasted when those damn Imperials invaded.”
“What’s your name?” Edgar asked and lowered the hood of his wool cloak. He could feel the bun he tied his hair into coming loose already.
“Grady. The Elder put me in charge. I was apprenticing under Papaw for the last four years. Most of the older miners got fried up trying to protect the town.”
“You have my sympathy, Grady,” Edgar said, “We wanted to talk with you about what’s coming and offer help.”
“Sympathy’s not help, blondie, just words,” Grady glared at Edgar.
Banon cut in by clearing his throat loudly, “What if we could offer weapons, muscle and a slew of people who are hell bent on stopping the Empire?”
Grady’s frown didn’t leave his face, but he did step closer to Banon, eyes blazing, “What’d the Elder say about this?”
“He hasn’t agreed yet, but we wanted to speak with everybody in town to hear your thoughts about the situation. We have a plan, but we need support from you all,” Edgar explained, “I’m the king of Figaro, and trust me, I want to take the Empire down. Gestahl has gone too far.”
“I knew you looked familiar!” Grady shouted and put his hands on his hips, “I heard about them attacking the castle and South Figaro! What’s a king doing running away like that?!”
Edgar ground his teeth and curled his hands into fists, “I got my castle to safety and had to get to Banon so we could figure out what to do next. I wouldn't have been able to help by hiding in my castle under the desert!”
“Wait, that thing actually dove under the desert? I thought everybody was just drinking too much when we heard about that,” Grady looked amazed, and his frown disappeared.
“Yes, I made my castle sink into the sand so Kefka couldn’t destroy it,” Edgar forced his voice to calm. He was growing sick of seeing and hearing people calling him a coward for running. As if the guilt wasn’t worming its way into his mind more and more often anyways. He wouldn’t be able to attend the funerals for his men who died.
“As I’m sure you understand now, having Edgar here to back Narshe will help defend this town and you can do more than just hiding that frozen esper,” Banon said, getting Grady’s attention back on himself. “In addition to Narshe’s resources, the Empire is after that esper.”
“Fine, I’ll help. I know the rest of the miners will too since we’re all pissed off.” Grady nodded at them and grabbed a pair of gloves from one of the long tables. “And it’s what Papaw would want me to do…”
“That old son of a bitch is too much of a chicken shit to pick a side! I say we fight no matter what he says!”
“Isaiah, you do know Everett is younger than you by a few decades, right?”
“Like I give a fuck! He’s being a whimpering coward and I’m sick of this staying neutral crap! All he cares about is lining his pockets instead of biting that Gestahl back!”
Cigar smoke drifted in the air above the polished oak dining table and mixed with the scent of roasted pork and coffee. There weren’t any guests staying in the inn, so they had plenty of privacy for their meeting.
Edgar sipped at his watered down wine while he watched the irate weapon’s dealer sling his anger around with a surprising amount of vigor despite his nearly eighty years of age. Beneath that knitted sweater was muscle from decades of working metal at a forge, and Edgar wouldn’t be surprised if Isaiah pushed his way into fighting on the front lines when the Empire came knocking.
Matthias, the armor smith around Banon’s age, snickered at Isaiah’s ranting and pulled the silver tray of buttered bread closer so he could grab a slice. He’d agreed to help the Returners as soon as he found out who Banon and Edgar were. The back corner of his shop got crushed during the raid and his condition for providing the Returners with armor was help finishing up repairs.
Narshe lost a lot of lives the day their town was attacked, so they were all stretched thin trying to juggle their everyday work with fixing the damage and moving the frozen esper high up into the mountains. The main thing the town needed was more sets of hands.
The innkeeper, Hugo, entered the room with big decanters of brandy and sat them on the table in between the jug of milk and the bottle of wine.
“Now, now, Isaiah, you know as well as I do that our pockets get lined too by staying neutral. Before recent events, your swords ended up all over the world, including down on the southern continent,” Hugo gave Isaiah a sardonic grin.
The older man slammed his fists on the table, causing everything to shake and clatter, “Never again! The only way Gestahl is getting any of my swords is if he pulls it out of his ass! That’s where I'll stick one if I ever get a chance!” He snatched up a steak knife and mimed stabbing it upwards through his imaginary opponent. “We’ll see if that Magitek can save him from getting skewered alive!”
“I’m glad that you’re enjoying planning with us so much,” Banon laughed after taking a shot of his brandy.
The innkeeper’s wife Patsy fluttered into the room next with the pot of tea Edgar requested and sat the tray down with trembling hands. She gave him a short curtsy before wringing her hands together in front of her chest, “How many Returners did you say were coming, Banon? We have ten rooms, two of them have four beds and the rest only have two each! I’ll ask around for sleeping bags and cots if we need them, just tell me how many!” She turned back to Edgar, “Will you be staying with us, your majesty?”
“I have my things set up at Arvis’ house, dear lady, so don’t worry about readying a bed for me,” Edgar smiled at her and poured himself a cup of tea. He noted that she brewed Figaroan black tea for him judging by the spiced aroma wafting from his teacup.
Matthias added, “I’ve a spare room we could park some people in as well, Banon.” He pointed with his slice of bread across the table, “I bet you can put some people up in your kid’s old room, too, Isaiah. You still have their beds?”
“Yes, yes, don’t worry, we’ll find places for all you Returners to lay your heads! If we can get that slime ball of an Elder to agree we could get some people bunked in his house as well! Lord knows he has enough room since that wife left him!”
Edgar closed his eyes and sighed quietly to himself. He had enough experience with council meetings over the years to predict that they wouldn’t be back at Arvis’ house until after supper time. At least he already dropped off the library books for Terra so she wouldn’t grow bored.
She was spinning, twirling. A blur of color passed by until somebody caught her hand and wrapped their arm protectively around her waist and pulled her close against them. So close.
He swept her along on light feet with the crowd of dancers. Everybody was dressed in colorful costumes and moving in time with the orchestra on the raised dais along the side of the room.
She was dipped, she was spun out and back into his arms, she was moved all around the dance floor without a single movement of her own. She tried pushing at what was holding her back, tried to break free, tried to run away from him but all her energy was gone.
All she could do was dangle on the puppet strings he controlled.
When he swept her in close again, this time with her back flush against his chest, one of his hands slipping over her stomach and held her so tight it hurt, he whispered in her ear.
They were the words every girl wanted to hear. But she didn't want to hear them, not from him. Never from him.
Terra woke with a start and flung herself from the arms holding her in her dream but ended up sprawled on the wood floor and kicked Edgar in the process. Her pile of books stacked near her pillows tipped over. The light in the living room was already lit so at least she wasn’t in complete darkness.
“Goodness Terra, what is the matter?” Edgar sat up in his sleeping bag with his hair wild and eyes bleary. He averted his gaze when he noticed her nightdress had ridden up from her flailing.
She looked around the room quickly, her mind not quite caught up with the fact that she was awake.
Nobody was holding her. Nobody was whispering those things at her. She sighed in relief, fixed the hem of her nightdress and sat up. Only her and Edgar were in the room now that Henley, Sasha and Lizzie went to the inn so they could have actual beds to sleep in instead of spending their nights curled up on the floor.
“It was just a dream…”
“That must have been quite a nightmare,” Edgar commented and leaned forward to rub at his leg where she kicked him.
A nightmare? Was it a nightmare?
“I’m not sure if it was one or not,” Terra murmured and crawled back to her blankets.
“Do you want to talk about it if you’re not sure it was a nightmare?” Edgar asked, watching as she settled back under her feather blanket.
Part of her wanted to say no and just go back to sleep, but Edgar was the one who assigned her all of those books to read, so he must be the best person to ask. She met his eyes while he waited on her answer with a soft smile.
“I think it might have been from when I was wearing the slave crown,” Terra started, “I was dancing. Kefka was making me dance with him. It was sort of like that big party in the book I started reading.” She fisted the blanket in her hands as the flashes of memory filled her head again. “But when he said something to me, it didn’t make me happy like the girl in the story. I wanted to run away, but I just couldn’t.”
Edgar’s smile fell, “What did he say to you?”
Terra bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood and swallowed, “He said that he loves me more than anybody else could.”
Edgar’s gasp didn’t register in her ears.
“That can’t be love, can it? The characters in that book love each other and they don’t make each other do horrible things. He put that crown on me. But he was doing so many things like the lovers in that book!” Terra’s voice shook. Everything was just pouring out, “Which is love? That book makes love seem like something beautiful, but in all my dreams where he’s doing so many of those same things, I’m so scared!”
She wiped at the tears running down her face and squeezed her eyes closed, not wanting to see what must be pity on Edgar’s face. That book had done a good job of explaining what pity was and she noticed it in the way Arvis treated her the night before during supper.
“Terra, please look at me,” Edgar’s voice was soft, soothing. There was movement at the foot of her sleeping bag next to her feet. She moved her hands away from her face and looked. He was kneeling, closer, but keeping his distance, and for that she was grateful.
“Over time, you’ll find out that there are many kinds of love in the world. If you decide to keep reading those books, you’ll see that some of those stories have characters hurting each other and doing bad things in the name of love. People can think they’re in love, convince themselves they’re in love, but to others, that love can look like a horror story.”
“So, you’re saying he could have been telling the truth?”
Edgar’s knuckles went white where he had them balled into fists on his knees. “He could have believed he was, yes. But what you know for certain is what you felt.”
Terra rubbed at her nose where it was trying to run, “Have you ever been in love, Edgar?”
That seemed to startle him, but he quickly smiled, “I don’t think I have, yet! I’ve been far too busy taking care of my kingdom to explore romance firsthand in recent years.”
“I don’t think I have, either,” Terra whispered and laid down, curling into her pillows.
“I’m sure you will someday, Terra.” Edgar patted her foot through the blanket before getting up and stretching his arms up high above his head, “If anybody deserves to find out what love feels like, it’s you.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so Terra kept quiet and wrapped her arms around one of the rogue pillows that tried to escape when she flailed her way out of her sleeping bag. After that dream, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know what it was like.
But those books made it seem so important. The way the characters seemed to lose themselves in each other during their dancing made a warmth burn in her chest. They weren’t terrified of each other at all.
Maybe I should find somebody who ’s felt love like in the book and ask them what it feels like.
The dangly stone on the borrowed earring tangled with her hair as she snuggled her face deeper into the pillow, reminding her of somebody else she could try asking. She inhaled deeply and made a promise with herself to ask Locke as soon as she had the chance. He surely must know what love feels like.