Kerr! *glomps*

… I knew being on the last pages of one story would make me hyper about another. :stuck_out_tongue: And there’s no Kerr here either ;_; Damn, this part is really boring to write but I need to get this thing moving again. You’ll get this random excerpt because I can’t find any floppies and the real .doc of this badboy is on the comp Jing is hogging (again. Ah well…), so I’m transfering it over the board. Inconvenient, but you get some sneak previews of stuff the world has not yet seen :slight_smile:
Is this any interesting at all? :stuck_out_tongue:
Backstory: It’s from my AU FF6 where Gestahl stopped Kefka (Kerr) from going mad on the floating continent. Gogo, being Kefka’s twin brother (Read Moment’s with Celes, Gogo’s Secret: Another face and Worshippers of Insanity ^^;:wink: has been brought into action and has spent several days trying to keep himself and Siren alive, locked up in the same room as his reeeaaally unstable bro. Meanwhile part of the hero gang is going to Maranda, which has been rebuilt by the empire (Gestahl didn’t die and thus acquired the power of the statues. You do the math) to try and free some prisoners for the Returner’s cause.

They had taken a risk by traveling by day, to be able to arrive to Maranda by nightfall. Setzer and Locke consulted the map surely ten times more than was truly necessary along the way, but considering their situation they couldn’t be too careful. If any low flying clouds were offered to the travelers, then those were used as hiding places. But overall most of the heaps of water particles stayed a couple of thousand feet too high to be useful. There were after all limits to how high one could come and still be able to breathe well, not to mention the chill. Besides, when in a cloud one could feel safer – for the prize of feeling lost at the same time.

While their gambler drove, Locke, Celes, Terra, Shadow, Mog, Sabin and Cyan stood along the railing with their eyes wide open in the hunt for any sign of the floating island. Interceptor stood beside the ninja of the troop, like a statue.

The daylight was nothing but a mortal enemy, however it would be safer to keep moving while they could be seen but get away quickly, than to be seen when they landed in enemy territory. While they were still on their way they were less sure to have to deal with the empire setting up a welcome committee at least. It would get more complicated if a soldier saw the Falcon land near Maranda.

Few words were exchanged, but the tension was tight. They made a small troop, and as this had been planned the discussion had been hot on whether to send more or less people. It was a dangerous mission, more fighters would mean better backup. But the rebels could hardly claim that they could afford risking too many of their more or less skilled magic users. This importance of achieving more fighters had in the end won the discussion and the final number of warriors involved had been eight and a dog.

If they would be victorious, the Returners would gain a valuable amount of new blood. If they failed, the blow would be devastating.

Edgar had considered coming along too. He had been voted out.

His tired attempt at a dry chuckle haunted the minds of all who had seen him back then. Their leader was near a collapse and they knew it. But he was too valuable to be let out where the vultures could even get a chance to see his shadow, no matter how he protested. The idea of letting him back on the battlefield to raise the spirits of the common people might have sounded good the first time he talked about it, but whenever it was proposed now, everyone hesitated. It was now a week since they had arrived to Figaro castle from the Coliseum, and the euphoria at being safe no longer clouded their judgment of danger. 

Right then however, the infiltrators’ minds were far from king Edgar; they had to focus on what they were heading towards.  

In the final, dying sunrays they sighted the southern coast of the western peninsula, once the outmost part of the expanding empire. It had been the last part taken over with “normal” warfare and not with the power of the statues. 

Setzer let out a slow breath as the shades grew deeper, embracing the Falcon and the Returners upon it in the safety of darkness. The evening had been cloudy, so there were room for hopes of a moonless night. The winds steadily became chillier and he wrapped his jacket tighter around him with one hand, keeping the other on the wheel.

The gambler made sure one last time, with the dying breath of the sun, that the course was steadily set to go at least half a mile from Maranda. He turned his head and regarded the shadow behind him.

“I’ll be right back,” Terra promised and turned around, heading towards the stair leading down into the ship.

They had left one lamp on down there, in order to let her find the way when it was time.

The warriors waited, the only sound being the wind, the mumbling engine and Terra’s footsteps. She went down the stair, and stepped into the nearest room to her left. After giving the window a quick glance to once again make absolutely sure that the curtain was down, she closed the door and stood in complete darkness.

Only when she after this was sure that no light would be seen by anyone down on the ground, as not even the open hole to the deck was a danger, Terra reached into the pouch in the sword belt around her waist and produced a vaguely glowing stone. The flame within the green crystal flicked, but slowly.

The young woman closed her eyes, holding the magicite before her in both hands.

“It is your turn, father,” she gently whispered.

Their bond as parent and child demanded no fancy calls to bring forth the esper’s spirit.  

Though Terra kept her eyes shut and Maduin tried to keep the light down, the flash from the summon wrecked havoc on the half-human’s acquired night vision. She blinked against the wisps hopping before her sight as she opened her eyes again. They were quickly forgotten though as a pair of soft, strong arms encircled her and the smell of warm fur tickled her nostrils. Smiling, Maduin melted away, down through the floor. His daughter would only be able to keep him summoned for a short while, there was no time to waste. Then again, a sign of affection to fill the void they both “lived” with were no seconds spent poorly.  

With a gentle smile still touching her own lips, Terra turned around and fumbled for the door, still holding the magicite in her left hand. She hurried back up on the deck as quickly as she could, finding only more darkness as she did so. But as she looked towards the east northeast, she saw a vague hint of illumination. Maranda. 

Below the Falcon, the horned esper swept forwards, following the airship but at a far lower altitude. And he was sending reports to Terra’s mind, which she passed on. 

“Still water. Stay on course, we’re almost there,” she muttered, standing beside Setzer again.

Minutes passed with a few more reassurances from Maduin that they were still flying above the ocean. 

“We have reached the shore now,” Terra finally announced, “there are some spruces below, can’t land yet… he’s going ahead…”

Setzer licked his drying lips in the cold winds, tense as a bowstring. Everyone else just waited, nervously. In the darkness they were safe from the enemy eyes, but they were also blind. The espers were not however, spiritual beings that they were. The gambler knew that he could trust their guide, but to not being able to see anything and flying at the same time was making him nervous, despite the fact that the height wouldn’t let them hit any trees. The lack of mountains in this area was of course comforting too.

“Start to slow down, we’ll be able to land soon,” Terra reported.

Setzer willed himself not to hit the brakes too hard, he knew the tension caused a risk.

“Alright… begin to descend…”

He obeyed.

“Slower… we’ve got about fifty yards to the ground… forty… thirty… slower… twenty… good…”

Every member of the group grabbed the railing, apart from Setzer who held the wheel already and Terra who was too far away from the edges of the airship and instead sat down on her knees, still holding the magicite in a secure grip. As if he understood, Interceptor curled up beside his partner in crime. 

“Ten yards… now!”

The thick wheels on the bottom of the ship and their metallic tentacle holders absorbed most of the impact, and considering the circumstances it was a fairly soft landing.

Maduin returned to his magicite as the Returners got back on their feet and breathed out of relief as they could conclude that they were safely on the ground. The thought of the next step reverted them back to their tense state however. 

A couple of minutes worth of checking equipment one last time later, Celes, Cyan and Locke with Shadow and Interceptor in the lead headed off towards the glum prison city. The others stayed behind, in order to make sure the Falcon would be safe. In Terra’s case it was more a question about recovering after several minutes of keeping an esper in existence outside of his magicite; it had been quite a drain. 

There was however another reason to why she stayed behind; her bond with Maduin made her the best one to receive and call out warnings should anything happen. In an inner pocket of the dark cloak Celes wore, Ifrit’s magicite rested, ready to be used for an SOS call or a warning to lift off immediately within a moment’s notice. They all would have preferred to use some less powerful esper than the fire beast, but as Edgar had announced a day earlier, the healing espers were training medics in Figaro castle, and since the Returners now only owned four pieces of magicite it didn’t really matter which one they risked; they were <I>all</I> far beyond priceless. Of course, they always had been even when more of the magical rocks were in the rebels’ possession, but the circumstances had been more extreme than ever lately. Go figure. 

Next up: Super stealthy Shadow stealths his way into Maranda and why can’t that seem compelling to write about? :stuck_out_tongue:
Bah. I’ll throw in a bit of the lovely relationship between Kerr (Kefka) and Gogo just because I love the lil’ psycho.
:fungah:: “Beaten by a giggling madman. I don’t know whether to cry or be relieved.”

Gogo awoke with a groan and pressed his hand against his forehead.

It was too damn bright…

He blinked a few times, then glared at the room overall. Where the light came from he couldn’t figure out, and he was too irritated by the sudden awakening to even bother.

With a sour grunt he sat up in the sofa and rubbed his eyes.

The extra door slammed into the wall. Gogo jumped by the crash.

“Damn! What the heck are you doing?!” he growled, glaring at the opening to the bathroom.

Kefka leaned backwards so that his head became visible in the opening. With a big, amused sneer on his pale face.

“Still sore in the mornings?” he said with a cackle and snapped back to finish whatever he was doing.

“Not any worse than you,” Gogo growled and stood after another few seconds of collecting himself.

“I’m smiling, see?”

Gogo stumbled over to the door, finding the inside a rather exaggerated bathroom. Separate shower and bath tub? Come on…

Everything in the room had a creepy shade of red, and somehow the mimic wasn’t too surprised.

Kefka smirked at him, standing in front of the porcelain washbasin with a tiny brown pot of something white in his hand. Gogo glared at his brother.

Mornings had never been the mimic’s strong side, even the monsters in the zone eater had learnt to know that well. The painful way. 

Those who had known Gogo never believed him when he mentioned morning gruffness.

But his brother hadn’t ever liked them either; the two men were both night persons.

“You’re awfully cheerful…” Gogo muttered and leaned at the doorframe, rubbing his face.

Kefka chuckled again and put the pot down. He exchanged it for another one out of the collection of various items beside the basin. Mostly pots of different kinds looking to contain a variety of soaps, and several of them didn’t even seem to ever have been opened. 

‘Well, he never cared much for that kind of luxury…’ Gogo absently thought.

Kerr had been focused of complicated calculations and machines, and in the later business there was no use being hysteric about keeping clean all the time. 

At least that was the same…

“Why did you have to turn the bloody light on like that?” the mimic grunted aloud, drawing himself from the thoughts.

“Hey, at least I didn’t pour water on your face,” Kefka smirked.

Had Gogo not been so tired, his mind would have jumped far ahead in the conversation at once and seen what was to come. But as it was…

“Don’t make me punch you…” he growled and tried to straighten up.

“Watch it, I’m older than you,” Kefka snickered without turning away from the mirror.

“Yeah, five minutes. Big deal.”

NOBODY LOVES ME!! thorws a fit a la 14-year-old author wannabe and stomps off in a childish manner

Been seeing that so much I just had to do it myself just once chuckles

I’d love you, but Spazzy would kill me. Okay, I ‘like’ you. :stuck_out_tongue:

Yay!

Oh yeah. He wouldn’t kill me because I have some secret logs of him behaving like he needed a mallet smack from Weiila…

…I mean, would you like to have a cup of coffee?

Don’t do a angsty-fit on us like some :P. We all love you, your bright sparking personality and your fics more than life itself. And pizza.

But I… err… haven’t actually read this yet. My bad. runs off to read everything he needs to but HASN’T 0_o

Worry not, I was only joking :slight_smile: But thanks, I love you all too :slight_smile:

And the trilogy starting with Moments with Celes is in this archive, Alternate Fates is here:
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=1074142

And Maba: Coffee? Nah, but I’ll have a cup of tea!

I prefer tea myself… But it looks good darlin!

If you release those logs, Mabat, your life is forfeit.

Weiila’s kid: Yay! Mom loves me!

No, she doesn’t. She loves the Kerr from this time. Oh, and good job, Weiila!

Weiila’s kid: Ah, damn it!

Aww, I love both Kerr’s even if that second one blows my mind and the first one would make the Devil nervous…

Yay, more transferring antics!

And on the other side of the world, a candle shed its mild light over a desk which in one enraged sweep had been cleaned of the papers that had defiled it.
Reports, calculations, plans. Papers papers papers papers. Where the hell did all these documents come from?
They needed food, weapons, ore, materials, magic, warriors, hope. He had the power to fight for all this. But all he saw were papers.
And he was a precious treasure, guarded with teeth and nails by an entire kingdom of rebels. Like a sword made of crystal; invaluable, but useless since none would use it for anything else than decoration.
King Edgar reflected on it now, that in a way he had been more powerful when he was a prisoner of the empire, for then he had been a symbol which the whole world could cry for. Now he was being wrapped up in a silky net of steel, ensured safety… and forgotten. His people had tasted loss of hope in the shape of their king and had come to fear its bitter flavor.
He understood that they just wanted the best, but he couldn’t feel grateful. For every wasted minute he could feel his powers and skills seep out of his very bones.
So now he stared at the candle he had lit, slumping in his chair and letting the small flame absorb his mind, while he felt the dark rings deepen around his eyes. If he was a hope, then why was he being wasted here, in his room, locked up with invisible keys?
Soon, Terra and the others would have reached Maranda. Maybe they were already inside, fighting against the guards. Maybe they were loosing. Maybe they were winning. He wouldn’t know until they returned. If they ever did.
And there was nothing he could do to help.
Neither Gestahl nor Kerr would kill the king of Figaro, no sword, spear, spell or beast would end his life. He now felt that it was his own people who would be his demise. They and their suffocating care.

Guards wandered back and forth on top of the wall. The wall that hadn’t been there a year ago. Not even six months ago. Maranda was a raped town, imprisoned within herself, beaten by strangers that had driven out her lifeblood; her children. Now she appeared more a fortress than a town, the tallest roofs fighting to peek above the high wall in the dim, dancing lights. Torches were set on poles along the hindrance of bricks and concrete, close enough to chase all hiding shadows away.
Having crept into the forest to the south, the small group of Returners now watched the scenery before them in the same light that was thought to make their entrance impossible. So far on a safe distance, they took their time to regard the guards through field glasses. But since night-vision wasn’t invented yet the torchlight was all that could help them see.
There were at least twelve guards on top of the wall, but in their circumstances it was hard to tell.
The wall ran only along the southern, western and north side of the town, since the ocean ruled the east. But to attempt entering by swimming would be madness. The Returners didn’t have nearly perfect knowledge of the setting, but what little they had gotten from a lone spy was enough to know what logic already said; the ocean way was sealed by nets through which magical electricity ran, to touch it would lead to death, and if not that then capture due to the stunning force.
As he watched the silhouettes of guards high up there, Shadow felt a slight stir of old thrills. It had been long ago since he had last actually sneaked into an enemy lair, most of the jobs he had been hired for had been nothing but simple assaults. Take out this man as he walks home through the park. Help us fight. Follow these warriors to Thamasa and aid them in the search for the espers.
For a moment he almost worried about being able to pull off a mission that required skills he had almost been forced to dull. But in the next second it was gone and his hand absentmindedly stroke Interceptor’s head. The great dog made no sound.
“I’m ready,” he finally whispered to his companions.
As his eyes had gotten used to the dusk long ago he could see them nod, slowly.
“Godspeed, my comrade,” Cyan murmured as Celes turned her back towards the town.
The magitek knight whispered out a spell, pressing her hands tightly together and willing her powers to not even sparkle as they were released. The misty cloud that left her hands didn’t glow as it normally would, but floated into the night air just like the breath of its mistress.
Shadow melted out of sight for mortal eyes as the magic touched him, fading into the night in a way that not even his black clothing would allow.
Without another word he headed towards the town. Locke was the only one to vaguely hear his first few steps, but that was all. Interceptor laid down on the ground, waiting like his human allies.

The invisibility spell would only work for about seven minutes; before leaving for the mission the Returners had carefully measured the lifespan of Celes’ spell. When it wore off, Shadow would have to cast it upon himself or do with his natural abilities.
As they waited in silence, Celes kept watching the silent town, the city which once had been known for its beauty. She had volunteered to this mission not only because Locke would lead it and she wanted to follow and help him as he had promised to protect her. Hanging over the young woman was also the need to purify herself of the ensnaring feeling of guilt, to pay back something to Maranda for all the pain she had caused it as she led the empire’s invasion of the fair town.
Nobody had said it to her but she had a feeling that all of them understood. And here she now was in the darkness, watching the town she had conquered and then left to its enemies. Beside her was even one of them who had thrown that sin into her face, blind to the tearing anguish he caused her as he attempted to rip the shrouding mask from her raw emotions. But Cyan was silent now. They all were.
Celes kept watching Maranda, trying to suppress the feeling that she wasn’t doing hardly enough, never would be able to do enough to pay back her debt to it. Not even after she had betrayed the orders of her emperor and ordered the troops to hold back, to spare the innocent of South Figaro. Gestahl had wanted a complete toast of the city.
The fact that the dove she’d sent towards Figaro castle to warn king Edgar of the invasion hadn’t exactly helped her either. And every fist planted in her soft flesh, every kick marking her skin and cracking ribs now seemed petty, still not enough to comfort the silently crying memories that the very stones Maranda so desperately held on to.
Celes shifted slightly, but that was the only thing she did. Steel hard discipline kept herself in check. Not even Locke would know.
And while his blond ally mused so bitterly, Shadow silently climbed the southern side of the wall. The gate was to the west; he’d hopefully be able to use that later. But for now, he had to do with climbing darts conveniently set in two holders on each side of his hip. Their sharp edges had been induced with tiny amounts of thunder magic by Strago – it had taken a while to figure out exactly how much could be set there without it creating any sparkle but the old man had been a fabulous hunter with magic in his blood. He had his tricks. Now the darts almost slid into the concrete like a knife through bread, and not a sound was heard, not even a tiny star of the magic force showed. Shadow almost smiled to himself. He could surely have gotten inside the prison with the simple methods he always had used, but magic sure made things simpler.
Despite knowing that he couldn’t be seen by normal eyes and that he made no sound, Shadow kept all his senses open for the movements of the guards above him. There was no reason to be careless. As he closed in on the top of the wall he was able to see his own transparent arms in the torchlight, but later on it could be difficult to tell whether he was still invisible or not. In the back of his mind he was keeping count on the seconds that passed, just to make sure.

Meh, I need a map of Maranda before I can finish this, just so that I can check how to make Shadow sneak around outside. I’m hoping that Cid can send me a savestate, but any help would be highly appreciated. puppy eyes
But in the meantime, I can at least write about what happens once he finally manage to enter the darn prison itself so that I can get this thing moving towards the next two chapters which are already as good as finished and WAY more interesting to write about than this stuff… I love plottwists! :slight_smile: Uhm… 'scuse me! flees from the Allied Forces of Espers Yes, yes, I’m abusing Siren, I’m sooorry!!

Nobody heard anything as Shadow climbed up the wall, making use of windowsills and when nothing else was offered, the ever so slightly protruding bricks of the wall itself. Old architechture certainly had its perks when it came to climbing. Bars covered every single window he passed, and in the little light that came from inside he could see humans curled up on simple cots or the floor itself. All the traditional doors seemed to have removed and exchanged for sturdy bar doors to make it simpler to keep an eye on what was going on within the cells. It also helped Shadow to see the guards that were walking down the corridors further in. Didn’t appear to be as many as he had thought, at least.

Eventually he reached the top and the dark triangular window he had spotted. In the light from far below he observed shadows of boxes and various rubble; as he had suspected it was an attic. But there were still three iron bars which barricaded the opening. Probably rather meant to hinder possible escapees from committing suicide by jumping that to hinder imposters.

Shadow pulled a dagger from his belt; infused with the same magic as his climbing darts it was easy to saw through the metal though it still turned out rather tough. But it still worked far better than his normal equipment for things such as this.

As one bar broke he caught it in his working hand and placed it on the windowsill by his feet; the other hand was still needed to hold on to the wall. And so it went on.

Within a couple of minutes he had removed the last hinderance and sheathed his dagger again before carefully collecting the three metallic staves in his hand and slipping inside feet first.

Not even his skills were enough to keep the thick dust from whirling up from its rest, but his mask protected him from any risk of sneezing. Now that he could take a closer look he saw rolled up carpets and simple chairs, broken flowerpots and wooden doors among the rubble in the low attic. Apparently this was where all the use- and worthless remains of Maranda had gone after the empire had taken what it wanted before the renovation.

Ruefully the ninja placed the three bars upon two carpet rolls conveniently lying beside each other. The Returners could have used that iron; the blacksmiths of Figaro castle had probably been able to at least make a couple of daggers from them. But he couldn’t take them along, they’d just hinder him. He’d felt far less inclined to risk bringing them along had they even been made of diamond.

But no time to cry for lost materials.

Slowly he crept down the room towards the shade of a hole in the southern end, now only enlightened by his own dark sight. All the way he kept as close to the wall as the rubble allowed to avoid any creaking sound of the planks he stepped on.

Even as he reached and began to slide down the stair his hand sought out a dirk from one of his many mysteriously hidden pockets. There was a door by the end of the stairs, a wooden and not a barred one. Light seeped through the keyhole.

Shadow reached the bottom step and slowly crouched down to peer through the tiny hole. On the other side was a rather narrow corridor of about three yards’ length before another stair started, and there seemed to be at least one cell along it, on Shadow’s right side. Considering the architecture there was most probably another one that faced the first, but it was impossible to see that through the keyhole. Rooms at this level of a house had probably belonged to the servants.

For the moment Shadow found that the looks of the building came in second place of interest though. He was more focused on the brown shade coming up the corridor. Unless the empire very suddenly had changed the fashion of their soldiers, that was a guard.

Unmoving the ninja watched and waited as the man on the other side stopped, probably to glance into the cell(s). After a couple of seconds the guard appeared satisfied and turned around to stroll towards and down the stair, the planks in it squeaking in protest at this. Shadow listened to the steps fading off, but the sound didn’t quite disappear. It and others were heard from below, faintly.

Listening intently, the intruder tried the door just to make sure. To little surprise it was locked. He halted and waited for a bit, patently listening to the pacing from the lower floor. Almost two minutes had passed before another guard graced the corridor with another visit.

As the second servant of the empire had headed down the stair, Shadow slid his dirk into the keyhole and began to work on the lock. It didn’t take him long to figure it out, with skills only rivalled by Locke. But before he opened the door, the ninja waited out another guard. As the third back had descended the stair, the infiltrator pressed his hands against each other and quickly murmured a few magic incantations. His body turned transparent to his eyes, invisible to others.

Only when he had another couple of minutes to work with and the spell to shroud him again did he open the door, slowly pushing it away from the opening it covered. It squealed a little, but only faintly.

Now he was in more danger than he had been when outside, his own spells didn’t work half as long as Celes’. Quickly he closed the door behind him and hurried over to the barred door to the right. As expected there were two locked rooms, and in the cell before him he could see a big lump on a cot to the right and two more on the floor in the inner left corner.

There was too little space in this narrow corridor, a guard that came up here would doubtlessly notice that something was wrong if he suddenly touched something invisible. Even if Shadow could dispose of a threat quickly, it was a risky situation considering the lack of fighting area, a hand or foot could easily hit a wall and alarm the people below. And even so, the allies of any guard taken down would probably notice that somebody was missing fairly quickly. Before starting to take out the soldiers, Shadow needed a bit more information.

Counting the seconds and listening to the outmost of his ability, the ninja took out the lock mechanism and pulled the door open ever so slightly, slipping past the high and crossed bars to get inside the cell. He still had about a minute before the guard came. Quickly Shadow exchanged the dirk for his dagger and sliced off the metal cube protruding from the lock, catching it and placing it beside the wall on the cell’s inside. Then he closed the door behind him, but since he had destroyed the binding mechanism there was no risk of not getting out again.

Apparently the three prisoners were asleep as they didn’t react to the faint clicking and the silent opening of the door.

Shadow slid up to the corner to the left of the entrance, there the guard wouldn’t be able to see him unless he poked his head inside.

Another soldier passed and left, and meanwhile the invisibility faded off.

Next step.

It was not without a small voice in the back of his head complaining about breaking against the laws of sneaking, that Shadow crossed the floor and hunched down before the two still forms on the floor. Two men with beards starting to grow wild, dressed in clothes that definitely had seen better days and trying to keep warm with a dirty blanket each. They laid back to back, apparently trying to stay a little warmer than the situation would otherwise allow.

“Hey, wake up!” Shadow hissed, placing a hand over a mouth each and shaking slightly.

Surprised, muffled groans answered him as the two began to stir, and feeling the pressure on their faces they groggily started to struggle.

“Be still!” the ninja hissed, “I’m here to get you out!”

Despite their bewildered, dozy states, those words hit the mark in the men’s brains and they instantly froze, eyes glistening in the weak light between batting eyelids that fought against the blur of fatigue.

“Don’t move, don’t make a sound,” Shadow instructed in a cold, practical tone, “if you do, I’ll kill you. Understand?”

Nods against his hands.

The ninja swept up and stepped over to the cot, repeating the procedure with the man lying there. As this was done, the intruder spoke his next instructions.

“I’ll explain the situation once the next guard has passed.”

And with that he disappeared into the shadows in the outter corner.

The prisoners were hardly sleepy anymore after that, listening to the eternal steps below them. But those sounds were almost overpowered by the rising beat of their hearts, whether it was excitement, relief or fear that made it so was hard to tell. Probably a mix of it all.

This is a damn good fic, Weiila…and I normally avoid AUs like the plague. <strike> And that is precicely the reason</strike> Er, that’s why you’re on my FF.net fave authors list. >_>

Thanks GG :slight_smile: I’ll get to even funnier parts soon… mwehehehe… here’s a sneakpeak…

“Soulscape?”
“Yes, it’s where his consciousness goes now that he’s sleeping.”
“And what are those… gigantic snake things?”
“Inner demons, you may say.”
“Oh.”
“… Five silver coins says the red-eyed one smashes him.”
“SETZER!”

Ten silvers on the more slimy one!

:stuck_out_tongue:
can’t wait to see more of what will happen there :slight_smile:

But Poke, you know the ending! :mwahaha: :wink:

Speaking of which, can I have my notebooks back? I need my notes to start on the FF1 fic. Yezzz… you can keep VS for a while longer if you want though :slight_smile:

Now I have a map, so I changed the setting a little. Let’s back a bit to where Shadow just entered the town, shall we?

The wall ran only along the southern, western and north side of the town, since the ocean ruled the east. But to attempt entering by swimming would be madness. The Returners didn’t have nearly perfect knowledge of the setting, but what little they had gotten from a lone spy was enough to know what logic already said; the ocean way was sealed by nets through which magical electricity ran, to touch it would lead to death, and if not that then capture due to the stunning force. 

They didn’t know how it looked on the inside now. Their infiltrator just had to make it inside and see what he could do from there.

As he watched the silhouettes of guards high up there, Shadow felt a slight stir of old thrills. It had been long ago since he had last actually sneaked into an enemy lair, most of the jobs he had been hired for had been nothing but simple assaults. Take out this man as he walks home through the park. Help us fight. Follow these warriors to Thamasa and aid them in the search for the espers.

For a moment he almost worried about being able to pull off a mission that required skills he had almost been forced to dull. But in the next second it was gone and his hand absentmindedly stroke Interceptor’s head. The great dog made no sound.

“I’m ready,” he finally whispered to his companions.

As his eyes had gotten used to the dusk long ago he could see them nod, slowly.

“Godspeed, my comrade,” Cyan murmured as Celes turned her back towards the town.

The magitek knight whispered out a spell, pressing her hands tightly together and willing her powers to not even sparkle as they were released. The misty cloud that left her hands didn’t glow as it normally would, but floated into the night air just like the breath of its mistress.

Shadow melted out of sight for mortal eyes as the magic touched him, fading into the night in a way that not even his black clothing would allow.

Without another word he headed towards the town. Locke was the only one to vaguely hear his first few steps, but that was all. Interceptor laid down on the ground, waiting like his human allies.

The invisibility spell would only work for about seven minutes; before leaving for the mission the Returners had carefully measured the lifespan of Celes’ spell. When it wore off, Shadow would have to re-cast it upon himself or simply do with his normal abilities.

As they waited in silence, Celes kept watching the silent town, the city which once had been known for its beauty. She had volunteered to this mission not only because Locke would lead it and she wanted to follow and help him as he had promised to protect her. Hanging over the young woman was also the need to purify herself of the ensnaring feeling of guilt, to pay back something to Maranda for all the pain she had caused it as she led the empire’s invasion of the fair town.

Nobody had said it to her but she had a feeling that all of them understood. And here she now was in the darkness, watching the town she had conquered and then left to its enemies. Beside her was even one of them who had thrown that sin into her face, blind to the tearing anguish he caused her as he attempted to rip the shrouding mask of trust from her raw emotions. But Cyan was silent now. They all were.

Celes kept watching Maranda, trying to suppress the feeling that she wasn’t doing hardly enough, never would be able to do enough to pay back her debt to it. Not even after she had betrayed the orders of her emperor and ordered the troops to hold back, to spare the innocent of South Figaro. Gestahl had wanted a complete toast of the city.

The fact that the dove she’d sent towards Figaro castle to warn king Edgar of the invasion of his southern town hadn’t exactly helped her either. And every fist planted in her soft flesh, every kick marking her skin and cracked rib now seemed petty, not nearly enough to comfort the silently crying memories that the very stones Maranda desperately held on to.

Celes shifted slightly, but that was the only thing she did. Steel hard discipline kept herself in check. Not even Locke would know.

And while his blond ally mused so bitterly, Shadow silently climbed the western side of the wall after tracking the route taken a few minutes ago. The gate was to the south; he’d hopefully be able to use that later. But for now, he had to do with climbing darts conveniently set in two holders on his hips. Their sharp edges had been induced with tiny amounts of thunder magic by Strago – it had taken a while to figure out exactly how much could be set there without it creating any sparkle but the old man had been a fabulous hunter and he had his tricks. Now the darts almost slid into the concrete like a knife through bread, and not a sound was heard, not even a tiny star of the magic force showed. Shadow almost smiled to himself. He could surely have gotten inside the prison with the simple methods he always had used, but magic sure made things simpler.

Despite knowing that he couldn’t be seen by normal eyes and that he made no sound, Shadow kept all his senses open for the movements of the guards above him. There was no reason to be careless. As he closed in on the top of the wall he was able to see his own transparent arms in the torchlight, but later on it could be difficult to tell whether he was still invisible or not. In the back of his mind he was keeping count on the seconds that passed, just to make sure.

He reached the top of the wall, hanging still in the junction between two pools of torchlight and listening for the sound of the guards’ steps. This would have been the tricky part had he not been invisible. Well, it was still dangerous, he couldn’t deny that.

They had discussed a distracting maneuver of some kind, set off by the others in the infiltration team. But no, Figaro had learnt the hard way that the empire had found a way to use magic to within minutes send messages between its bases and the palace – they couldn’t take the risk of backup arriving before they were ready. Having little to no chances of keeping an eye on where Vector currently was – and getting away from it to report its location – the Returners would never be sure where Gestahl, Kerr and their army were. Each operation would forever be a risk, as it always had been in this new world. And apart from that, if the guards stationed in Maranda got any indication that there could be an intruder before it was too late, the whole operation would be spoiled.

Shadow however didn’t have time to think of things like this, and didn’t even need to as he already had carefully gone through it with the other head Returners. He was busy focusing on the guards above him.

Another one passed, then the next one was about eight yards away. That’d do.

Moving almost like a snake the ninja heaved himself upwards, hardly making a sound as he slid over the top of the wall and in the same movement over the edge of the firm ledge running along the inner side of the tall obstacle. A second later he safely hung on the ledge instead, allowing his screaming, offended survival instincts a moment to realize that he had made it unnaturally after all. But now he was starting to run out of time.

Maranda was built around a set of hills that had made up a sort of natural defense; the town itself seemed somewhat submerged within a crescent of grassy earth and bricks of the old wall. The wall which the empire had built ran on the outside of the old one, creating a high, two-step stair which would be very hard for escapees to make it passed without getting shot by the upper guards halfway through. An invisible intruder, on the other hand…

Quickly glancing around and seeing nobody on the ground in the immediate area Shadow let himself drop to the ground several feet below, his soft boots and reflexes wrenching most of the sound out of existence. Still, he heard at least one of the guards stopping briefly above him and quickly backed up against the inner side of the upper wall, into the flicking shadow of the ledge.

A few moments of intent listening followed, but then the guard resumed his pacing.

Shadow didn’t have time to be relieved, he had to find some better place to hide now that he was inside. The invisibility wouldn’t protect him for more than about one and half a minute longer; soon his skills would stand alone again. Until he managed to recast the spell, of course.

What he could see of the uneven town was lit up by more torches, stuck on the walls of the old inn and half-buried armory. And further ahead, with the help of his high point of view, he could see that the old town square also was lit by torches stuck on tall sticks fastened in the ground along the brick roads. Light, though dimmed, splattered out from every visible window, and he could see shadows lazily moving within the houses.

All this light quite effectively killed off all shrouding shadows that could have swallowed a clever ninja that tried to get into the town-fortress. But it also illuminated the twenty or so guards idly walking around. They had their orders, but they didn’t appear too faithful in the idea of a jailbreak.

Ah. A challenge.

Silent as a cat Shadow slid along the wall. None of the guards above heard him, and neither did anyone inside of the by grass and moss overgrown part of the armory, the bit built into the old wall itself. Of course, since the wall turned into a part of the city’s streets behind and beside the armor shop and the act of leaving the lower wall completely unguarded would be plain idiocy, the ninja had to count on surprises around the corner.

But since he heard the steps long before the guard came around said corner of the armory roof, it wasn’t much of a surprise. And the soldier of the empire never saw the intruder who had already crawled up on the leaning roof beside the highroad, shrouded by the night and his fading invisibility.

Shadow crept up to the peak of the roof, to the junction of the crossing housetop. By now he knew that he was visible, but for now he would still be hard to spot as the flicking light of the torches really didn’t reach this spot. Would a normal human be able to climb up a roof covered with tiles without causing a ruckus? Nah. And besides, anybody would be seen long before they made it there.

Cautiously “not just anybody” used his new vantage point to regard what he could see of the area. On the other side of the well-guarded square was one of the bigger residences, once home to among others a young woman waiting for letters from her love. It was a two store building, and through the windows open for his sight Shadow now more clearly observed the shades of guards within. But they were seen through bars, covering the windows and apparently further inside as well. The living rooms, the bed rooms, all had been rebuilt into cells.

But going to that building would be tricky, hardly worth the risk for now. Closer by, just a little bit ahead of him and to the left, was the old weapon shop, the biggest building in Maranda. Supposedly it had been the home of a count once upon a time, the weapon smith had been a famous man as well while he still owned the house. Now this old home too wore bars in every window, and bored shadows moved within.

The assassin didn’t bother about the inn; it was a small building really, and he knew what the empire’s men did with inns. The lack of bared windows in the old tavern just proved that this was no exception. It was now the soldiers’ main quarters.

But just on the other side of the narrow road below Shadow was the western wing of the former weapon store, stretching out like an arm from the main building. It was in the same shape as the first building which had been observed from the armory roof; bars and dim light. However, though the barred windows were almost within reach when standing on the road, it wasn’t exactly an outstanding pick of attempted entrance, since another guard already had walked past in the torch lit alley while Shadow planned his next step. The roof of the wing went as good as parallel with the northern part of the outer wall, but they weren’t side by side at least – even if the couple of feet’s distance didn’t help much. And the guards still trotted along that wall.

Still, it was probably his safest bet. For a moment he considered trying to make it back to the outside and then go back in from the northern end of town to get closer to his goal, but waved it off. It would be no less risky than continuing to operate from within town, and changing directions like that in the middle of a job would be both dangerous and highly unprofessional. He hadn’t been doing things like this for almost fourteen years for nothing.

He let another couple of minutes pass, keeping track of how the bored guards wandered both below him and on the wall, adding that to what he had already seen. There was a gap of about one and half a minute between the passing of each soldier below him.

Shadow swept into action as the next guard turned around the corner of the armory. Quietly he crawled over the peak of the roof, slid down on his stomach on the other side and slipped down on the street in the shade beside the armory’s chimney, placed on the lower corner of the building.

Moving close to the ground with spidery movements to as good as he could avoid casting any suspicious shadows around the walls, the intruder made it over to the other side of the street, towards the middle of it. Right there he was just barely out of view from the square. Reaching up he grabbed the sill of the nearest window and heaved himself upwards.

Nobody heard anything as Shadow climbed up the low wall. Stealing a glance inside he could see humans curled up on simple cots or the floor itself in the small cell behind the bars. The door seemed to have been removed and exchanged for a sturdy bar door to make it simpler to keep an eye on what was going on within the prison. It also helped Shadow to see the guard that just then walked past in the corridor further inside. But nobody noticed him crawl further upwards, only the tip of his boot for a second placed on the rectangular hole in the wall as he continued.

Wow, this is the most text-heavy I’ve written for a loooong time. Constructive Critisism, anyone? And I was one inch from calling it Final Fantasy: Solid, but then I realized that Gallo would sue me on all my precious pencils… so I’ll call it Final Fantasy: Solid III.

is humming the Mission:Impossible theme