Chapter Text
Even through the haze of thick snowfall, even over unfamiliar ground, even with a primal blaze spreading through her body, Terra knew exactly where to find Kefka. His presence stained the distance with an inky gloom. She chased it like a dark beacon across a white sea. It took her no time at all soaring over the craggy hillside, skipping through the jagged terrain and enemy positions. If she could do this quickly - defeat Kefka and force an imperial retreat - she may even save her friends from the deadly magitek armor assault they had to endure.
But first, Sabin.
She slowed to a hover as other imperials came into view. Their auras seemed so faint compared to the blinding ichor seeping from Kefka. The blend of colors and textures surprised her - she saw all the familiar auras and even a few new ones. The sight was so mesmerizing she forgot to assess them as an enemy force. It wasn’t until they started pointing and shouting that she recognized the threat they posed.
“It’s her!” one screamed.
“She can fly?!” another cried, his voice blending awe and fear.
They started to scatter for safety - they had no training for how to handle an airborne witch. Terra winced as she observed their terror. They feared her more as a monster than a human.
A shrill laugh pierced the battlefield. The imperials froze in shock; Terra tensed in anger. Dressed in bright archmage robes but still painted as a joyful clown, Kefka approached her with a wide, sinister smile. Sabin moved with him, suspended mid-air by magical force from his outstretched hand. She barely saw the watery blue aura around his body, and her heart ached as she considered his weak grasp on life. Suddenly Sabin’s body jerked upright and his eyes opened wide. He pointed a poisoned finger towards her and shouted in Kefka’s own voice, “Get the witch! I want her alive! Uweeee heee heee heeeeeeee!”
Terra hesitated as Kefka leered at her from behind Sabin’s broad shoulders. She knew that mocking smirk better than her own smile. Her fists clenched as she half-remembered the pain and anger that accompanied so many memories of that hateful grin. A fiery spell gathered in her palms, but she couldn’t unleash it at him - not without harming Sabin. He used her love as a shield, and that hurt all the more.
Something coiled around her ankle and dragged her downward. A sneering imperial tugged at the rope ensnaring her. His courage emboldened his fellow troopers, several of whom rallied around him with their own ropes and nets and batons. As Kefka ordered, they sought to subdue her, not kill her. She stared pitifully at them, wondering if they knew the futility of their mission. With a mere word she could reduce them to ash, but she had no such wish. Such power coursed through her that she couldn’t fear them as she had before, and likewise couldn’t hate them. Trapped between a deadly witch and their own sadistic commander, these men could only choose their doom.
“Stop…” Terra pleaded with them as she cut the rope at her foot. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
Two other ropes bound her wrists, and they managed to pull her down to their level. She glanced around and saw others closing in, wielding magitek mauls sparking with energy. The ropes pulled her arms to either side, trying to keep her trapped and helpless. They failed in this task; Terra yanked her swordarm with surprising strength, pulling the imperial on the other end to the ground, and then used the slack to cut her other arm free. She unwrapped herself from the binds just in time to face the first attacker, catching his overhead swing and deflecting it to the side. She spun to counter just as she was taught, but chose a relatively kind elbow to the midsection rather than a blade to the heart. He crumpled to the ground, wheezing for breath. She packed more force into the strike than seemed humanly possible - especially for a woman of her size. The other imperials paused, glancing to each other to see who would move first.
“Stay back,” she tried, keeping her sword close and ready. She watched them carefully, reading the intent on their faces. They each hesitated, except for one. He stepped closer, holding his maul high in the air.
“For Vector!” he cried before charging forward, instigating a collective assault on the witch.
Terra gritted her teeth as too many of them attacked her at once. Would Celes berate her for not killing them when she had the chance? Surrounded and outnumbered, she didn’t even have the option to vent her rage and burn them all down. She focused on the first belligerent trooper, meeting his charge with her own and cutting him down. Then she turned as the others caught up with her, blocking their strikes as quickly as she could. One of her parries proved too slow; the maul struck her shoulder and discharged. The flash nearly blinded her foes; the pain nearly stopped her heart.
She shrieked as she fell back. Her sword fell to the ground; her arm no longer followed her commands. Fire gathered in her other hand, flames swirling about her as she chanted. Her eyes closed as the blaze consumed the imperials, but that didn’t spare her from their screams. She didn’t want it to come to this.
Kefka’s hideous laughter replaced their cries of agony as their bodies burned on the snowy ground.
Only a few troopers remained. They dared not move as Terra slowly got up, healed herself, and picked up her sword. She glared at them, furious that her pleas for peace didn’t matter. Imperials only spoke the language of power and terror.
“Run.” she commanded.
Before they could turn to flee, a deafening crack split the sky. A bolt of lightning struck the troopers, forking to catch them all at once. Kefka laughed at their synchronized doom. It seemed the only thing funnier than his men dying by her hand was them dying by his instead.
Terra fixed her gaze on Kefka. She considered what cruel madness he had planned for her. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t work. She no longer feared him; she could think of nothing more frightening than her imminent metamorphosis. Her body twitched with excess energy. She thought back to the dark promise Sabin made with her before they entered the imperial camp. She asked him to die with her if it meant killing Kefka. Such a trade seemed unthinkable now.
“It’s time we had a chat, my dear,” he spoke, spectral venom slipping out of his mouth with each word. “These Returners,” he could barely speak the word without spitting, “they’ve treated you so terribly. Look at yourself, shaking in your cute little dress, shivering under your blanket of fire.” He shifted from a caring to scolding tone; his painted lips leveled out from a mocking pout to a cold sneer. “You dug too deep inside, didn’t you? Pulled out too much magic too fast, and now you’re losing control… Something else is taking over, isn’t it?”
She winced as the poison in his voice seeped into her. Kefka’s words could be as insidious as his magic. He always seemed to know her darkest fear… why would today be any different?
“Did you really think your power came without a cost? That’s not how it works, sweetie!” he said as he let out half of a laugh, but he caught himself. The theatrics fell from his face, and he spoke in a sullen tone. “You know, I thought I’d love seeing you this way. To see your inheritance finally catch up with you. I hated-” he broke his subtle demeanor for a quick outburst, “-HATED-” and returned seamlessly to his somber mood, “-you for your gift. Born with it… so natural, so pure. Not at all like me…”
Terra considered for a moment that she might strike at him. Kefka wandered away from his living shield as he spoke, lost in his own twisted thoughts and feelings. Could she fell him in a single spell? If not, Sabin would certainly pay the price of her failure. She looked at his pale face locked in vacant agony. The darkened veins under his skin horrified her the most. He wasn’t even clinging to life; death had him in its grasp, toying with the idea of letting him go. Her hand twitched with power she couldn’t contain or control. She couldn’t risk it.
“... But now I’m just so sad for you. All alone, even among your so-called friends. Nobody understands you. They don’t know where you came from. They didn’t realize you’ve been burning from within this whole time,” he paused to let the truth sink in.
Terra gritted her teeth as he approached her, standing nearly within arm’s length and outside the safety of his human shield. “This would never have happened if you were still in my care. I know all these things that your friends - and even you - still don’t know about you. I understand the distress you’re feeling right now, and I can help you.”
Kefka reached into his robes. Terra gasped as he revealed a crown. Any monarch would be proud to wear such a fine crown made from polished gold and brilliant gems. Unfortunately all the finest jewelry in the world couldn’t hide its sinister purpose. This was indeed a slave crown, as terrible as the last.
“I’ll spare his life. All you need to do is kneel and accept the crown,” he said with his familiar, cruel-hearted smirk. “I’m not offering you a trade, princess. This is an opportunity. You know the crown is your only way through this. I’d hate to watch the magic burn you away, to see you become some ugly monster rather than the enchanted little girl I’ve always…” he paused as he struggled with the next word, “envied.”
Terra couldn’t tear her eyes from the crown. She seethed at his offer, more angry with herself for being tempted than with him for his twisted agenda. If anybody else made this offer, she’d take it. She’d gladly trade her life for Sabin’s. What’s more, she’d do anything to stop the beast from consuming her. Could she trust Kefka to hold up his end of the bargain?
“Show me you can save him,” she demanded.
Kefka smiled as he pulled Sabin to his side with a simple wave. He placed his hand above Sabin’s head and wiggled his fingers, drawing the darkness from the veins and out the mouth. Sabin wheezed painfully and desperately, trying to pull in a real breath of air. Satisfied that he made his point, he quickly withdrew and the venom returned to its victim. Sabin slumped back into a dread stillness.
“Kneeeeeeeel,” Kefka replied, stretching the word for his own enjoyment.
She thought of any other option. Her hand balled into a fist, and fire erupted through the gaps in her fingers. It was getting harder and harder to contain the power. She felt herself slipping further and further away. She had little doubt she could best Kefka with whatever time she had left, but she wasn’t willing to lose Sabin in the process. What more could she ask than to solve all her problems? All it would cost is her freedom, her happiness, her life. Her knees weakened along with her defiance.
“Pay no heed to his deceit!” Cyan called out.
Kefka sneered at the intruder, furious that a mere mortal would interrupt the dealings of gods. He sank back away from Cyan and Terra, pulling his human shield back in front of him. Cyan stepped forward, coming to Terra’s side. He walked with the spirit of his people behind him. He focused on Kefka without fear or trepidation. He drew his sword as he spoke, “There is only one way to deal with a foe that has no honor.”
“Please don’t,” she begged, thinking of Sabin.
Cyan shook his head apologetically. “Please stay back - you are our last hope if I fail.”
Kefka laughed as he realized who dared to interfere. “You must be the last Doman! Oh dear, you must be quite upset with me. I must say I’m truly embarrassed that I left the job unfinished. Thanks for coming to me… now I can finally close the book on Doma.”
Cyan charged forward, choosing conviction over caution. With one hand Kefka held Sabin between himself and Terra; with the other, he flicked his wrist towards Cyan and unleashed a spray of toxic ichor. The proud knight faltered as he ran through the vile spell. His steps slowed before he reached his target, and with a pained expression he collapsed. Kefka laughed as he gathered the energy to destroy Doma once and for all, but a wild howl distracted him.
“Uwaoooooo!”
Gau leapt from behind Kefka, flying over and past the mad jester. The boy tackled Sabin and freed him from Kefka’s arcane grasp. Gau dragged his much larger friend to safety as quickly as he could.
Nothing stopped Terra from unleashing herself at Kefka now. His eyes widened as he reached the same realization. The fire obliged her, channeling all her frustration and anguish into a blazing stream. Kefka shrieked as the spell crashed against his arcane shield. After a blinding flash, he opened his eyes to find himself alive and intact. Enraged by Terra’s audacity to attack him, he returned the favor. Lightning crackled down his arms and shot forth, striking Terra right over her heart. She winced as the arcs of energy ran over and through her body, but she suffered no serious harm. She was rattled and hurt, but not injured. The two of them looked at each other, considering their next move.
Terra grasped her sword and shouted, bringing her blood to a boil. Kefka raised his arms and a fallen soldier sprung up from the snow, its lifeless body floating in the air. With a few plucks of his fingers, Kefka manipulated the body into attacking Terra. She easily blocked its clumsy blows, but her stabs and slashes mattered little against a corpse. Infuriated, she disarmed the corpse by severing its arm and kicked it aside. Her gaze burned into Kefka as he continued his macabre puppet mastery.
She didn’t notice the second corpse behind her until it struck her in the back, discharging the maul at full power. Terra screamed as she fell to her knees. Time slipped away as she struggled to breathe. Kefka approached her. Each time she blinked he seemed to travel half the distance between them. When her wits returned, he stood above her, crown in hand.
“You won’t remember this, but I want you to know now,” he whispered with a sneer. “You’ll be aware and helpless the whole time, just like you were before. That’s my favorite part.”
He reared back for his infamous sinister laugh, but a sudden surprise drained all the humor from him. He looked down with horrified eyes at a blade of fine Doman steel protruding from his chest. He touched it delicately - perhaps hoping it was a mere illusion - and his fingers came away red.
“B… blood?” he gasped before screaming in mortal terror. No more jokes, no more sarcasm, just a man scared to die.
The sword retracted from his chest and he fell to his knees. Cyan stood behind him, his flesh a deathly color from the poison magic running through him. Even so, he stood firm in his resolve to avenge everything dear to him. Kefka desperately fumbled for something inside his robes. Summoning all his strength, Cyan slowly raised his blade for the killing blow. Before the blade could fall, a swirling vortex of magical energy sucked his nemesis away through the warp.
Somehow, Cyan managed to look satisfied. He didn’t avenge his people, but he managed to save his friends. Finally yielding to the poison in his blood, he fell to a knee and fumbled for an antidote potion. Terra looked to him, thankful beyond words, but he simply waved her away. “I am not the one who needs you,” he said in a strained voice.
Gau crouched over Sabin’s body, sniffing him closely. His face showed a combination of disgust and concern. Terra came to his side and put her hands to his cheeks, happy to feel him again.
“You can make ok?” Gau asked, worried and hopeful.
“Yes,” she replied. She didn’t know exactly how, but she knew she would.
“I see you fire,” Gau whispered. “Are you burn?”
She looked at him and smiled with sorrow. She had no other response. He frowned and hugged her, understanding her pain with words he’d never heard.
“The others need you two,” Terra spoke to Cyan. “Please, help them. I’ll do my best with Sabin.”
Cyan nodded, already restored by the antidote. He motioned to Gau, who came quickly to his side. He must have understood the gravity of the moment, because he paused to speak before leaving.
“We owe everything to you, Terra. Thank you.” Before she could reply, he ran off with Gau following close behind.
Terra turned her attention back to Sabin. His skin was so pale and cold he might have faded into the snow if it weren’t for the darkness staining his veins. The small puffs of warm fog from his lips were the only sign of life. She started with a spell to cure poison, but it had no effect. Whatever Kefka did to him was much more insidious. She tried again, this time with a spell to revive him. His breath sputtered as his body tried to rouse from near-death, but it wasn’t enough. Frustrated, she poured everything she had left into a panacea spell. She found the end of her fire as she gathered her power. Her efforts made her cold and weak. She saw the blackness receding from Sabin’s veins, so she kept going. If this is what it took...
With an outstretched hand she pulled the toxic curse from him. It seeped out from his skin and burned away once it reached her hand. Her body shook as she struggled to maintain the spell. She held her breath to focus. Dark spots crept into the periphery of her vision. She needed to hold out long enough to save Sabin. If she passed out now, she knew it wouldn’t be her that awakened later.
Sabin bolted upright and gasped like he hadn’t breathed all day. His hands went to his chest as if to prove to himself that he was still alive. After a few more desperate breaths, he turned to Terra and smiled. She struggled to return it. Relieved and delighted, they embraced each other, letting themselves forget for a precious moment what must come next.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, “I had to give in.”
“I know,” he whispered back,”It’s not your fault…”
Sabin looked her in the eyes as they pulled away. He expected to see the color of her eyes blazing outside the rims of the iris, but instead saw faded tones of the beautiful colors he expected. She saw the realization on his face and turned away.
“Terra… I promised I’d take you to the esper when the time came,” he started.
Still turned away from him, she stood up and took a few clumsy steps.
“That time is now. I know it’s scary, but I think you’re going to be okay,” he continued.
She reached into the snow to retrieve some trinket. It felt so very heavy. With her eyes cast down she weakly walked back to him.
“I know I’ll never understand what you’re feeling now, but I’m going to help in any way I can. You can get through this.”
She sat back down beside him and revealed the crown. He paused, worried what she meant to do awful with this device. She confirmed his fears by saying, “The crown can stop the change. It has before.”
Her eyes pleaded as she offered him the crown. She trusted him with it, with her body, mind, and soul. As miserable as Kefka would have made her, Sabin could make her happy instead. She could stay with him, at least in some form, and she could even be there for when their friends needed her. Even though this would cost her everything she gained in the last few weeks - the only life she could remember, and the only life she wanted - it would be worth it. They could be together. She may not be herself, but she wouldn’t be the beast, either.
Terra didn’t speak any of the words in her mind, but Sabin understood all of it.
He imagined that cursed crown on her head and knew he couldn’t bear it. She wouldn’t be the woman he loved anymore. The crown would snuff her very soul, and she’d be little more than a puppet. Would he command her to eat, drink, or sleep? Would she ever smile without being told? Could she truly love him, even if he ordered her to? How could he bring himself to touch her - or have her touch him? He’d die if he tried; they’d be dead inside together.
He couldn’t say any of these terrible thoughts. Terra read his concern on his face.
“I’ve seen the beast - with my eyes closed and the fire swirling around me,” she said. “I know what I’ll become. It’s terrible. Claws and talons, scales and feathers. It’s magic made flesh. It’s a vicious monster. I’m afraid of what it can do. It might hurt you, Sabin. Do you think you could stop it? Would you even try?”
“No… I wouldn’t dare,” he explained. “This thing you call the beast - this terrifying creature - it’s still you! It’s something that’s always been a part of you, and when you change I know you’re going to be a part of it. I’m not afraid of any part of you. I trust everything you are and anything you might become.”
Her heart trembled as she considered his words. “People have always been afraid of me,” she started, voicing a deep pain that followed her everywhere she went.
“And they’ve always been wrong,” Sabin replied. “Even when one of those people is you.”
Terra closed her eyes, taking another look at the beast. Rather than behold the alien and terrifying features, she looked for herself behind them. She brought the clawed hand across an arm. While slender like her own, it was far tougher and stronger. Her touch continued across the body. The scales grew smaller at her abdomen and chest - enough to make it feel tender and vulnerable. It was not unlike touching her own skin. The claws ran smoothly across, not catching on any flesh or causing any discomfort. Then she brought the hands to its face. She had no idea what the beast’s face looked like, but it was no different than touching her own. Maybe she was touching her face after all - with her clawed hand, on her feathered arm, from her scaly body.
Terra opened her eyes and dropped the slave crown. Sabin took her hand, unsure whether to be thankful or just relieved. Regardless, the worst for her had yet to come. He held up her face by her chin and asked, “Are you ready?”
She let the tears fall from her eyes as she nodded. Whatever strength she once had was gone. Only magic remained in her world, and all of hers was spent. Sabin helped her to her feet, but even then she couldn’t support herself. Terra wrapped her arms over his shoulders and held tight. He picked her up and started walking her to the mountaintop. His aura soothed her with sensations of warm water across her body. She closed her eyes and wondered if this was what she always felt in his arms. It was as if she were carried by a loving river.
Terra knew she was slipping away. The moments passed by with each of his steps, with fewer and fewer left. The dream of being human was coming to an end. “Do you dream, Sabin?”
“Of course,” he replied.
“If you dream of this moment, don’t take me to the esper. Take me somewhere nice and comfortable. Somewhere we can live in peace. Somewhere we can be with each other for as long as we want.”
“Home, Terra. I’ll take you home,” he promised.
She smiled; that was the word she wanted. “Tell me about home…”
“It’s a quiet cottage in the alpines. Not too far from South Figaro, but far enough to be ignored by the world. It’s little more than four walls and a hearth. I make my own tea; I think you’d like it. There’s a small garden for herbs and vegetables. The woods outside are serene and bountiful. I could show you Mount Kolts in the spring. We could invite our friends to visit, or we could just keep all the days to ourselves.”
“It’s a lovely dream,” she sighed. His arms tightened around her in response.
Even with her eyes closed, she saw the esper. Its power radiated brilliantly, beckoning her like a bonfire in the snowy mountains. In her weakened state the power comforted her, but as they got closer it became overwhelming.
Sabin stopped. He struggled to tell her they had arrived, but she knew. “Set me down,” she said.
Maybe Terra found strength in his arms, or maybe she couldn’t bear the weakness any longer. She stood before the esper and saw its true form in its aura. Whatever great beast she feared she might be, this creature was far more awesome. Powerful elements emanated from it: lightning dancing across its wings, fire running along its back, ice forming in its breath. Without being obscured or contained by its icy prison, she saw the great feathered dragon as it once was, and may one day be again.
--- Are you ready to accept your birthright? ---
Terra nodded. "What will happen to me?" she asked. Even though it was too late to do anything about it, she wanted to know.
--- You will become whole. ---
Arcs of energy shot from the esper into her body. A bright pink fire engulfed her body. The flames didn't burn, but she knew they would consume her. It already started at her fingertips, tingling up her knuckles and leaving ash in its wake.
Terra turned to look at Sabin one last time. Tears streamed down his face, both fresh and dry. He should have stayed back for his safety, but he couldn't leave her. The fire crept up her arms and legs, but she paid it no mind. She focused only on him.
As she thought of the home that could have been theirs, her hands came together. The ash fell away to reveal her new body beneath. The clawed hands responded to her wish, but she didn't fully understand how or why. Magic flowed from her new body into the space between her palms. More and more energy gathered as the transformation progressed. As a creature of magic, this felt more like instinct than a spell: something this part of her knew how to do without being told. When the burning threshold crossed her chest and consumed her heart, she felt exactly what was happening. The energy her body gathered wasn’t an expression of her power, it was the essence of her very being.
A fragment of herself crystallized in her hands.
She reached out to Sabin and begged him to take it - a simple piece of magic crystal. The flames of change reached up from her neck now - the metamorphosis was nearly finished. He took the shard and held it to his heart. Was this something to remember her by, or was it the key to understanding her new self?
There was no time to ask. She smiled lovingly as the change consumed the last of her, and their moment was done. Finally birthed into this world, the scaled beast released a terrifying cry. The power knocked Sabin back so far he nearly fell off the ledge. The bright pink flames intensified, and she blasted upwards into the sky. She soared faster than anything he’d ever seen, burning a colorful path towards the setting sun.
Sabin watched the shooting star disappear into the distance. He gripped the crystal shard in his hand as if it could pull her back to him, but the bright dot in the sky didn’t return. It only warmed his heart with the memory of her.