Chapter Three: Into the Darkness

He woke, and his first thoughts were numb as he struggled to sit. Reasonable thought had long since escaped him, and it was replaced by the most base of instinct. How long had he been unconscious? Where was he? What of his injuries?

These were his very first thoughts, but as he came to himself he became aware of other things, such as Kain and the girl.

Suddenly panicking, he swiftly stood, only to sway and fall onto his buttocks, a wave of nausea threatening to overcome him. It took all of his self control not to curse when he realized he’d suffered an ankle sprain, likely a very bad one, from the way it throbbed. He placed a trembling hand to his temple, realizing he could have been hurt more gravely as he surveyed the landscape about him.

What ever this area had been before, it was now a rocky cliff face. Trees had been displaced by the maelstrom of rocks and dirt, and were now waving goodbye to life with the gnarled fingers of their roots.

Cecil trembled at the thought of what may have happened to Mist, both because of the fire and this newfound calamity, which was surely of a magical nature.

He felt distinct relief when he saw the unconscious form of the girl nearby, her chest heaving with slow, even breaths. He saw no sign of Kain, however, but was not decidedly worried over his friend, whom he was quite sure could take care of himself. No, right now his concern was the girl, and, secondarily, himself. She needed shelter, and it would be very difficult to defend her with only one good leg and, he discovered as he touched his forehead and his hand came away stick and red, a gash on his forehead.

He sighed when he realized there was no chance of getting back to a Baroni city, for the newly formed mountains were too steep for him to climb in his condition, and with a girl on his back. The next closest city was Kaipo, and that was across the vast desert, which he had even less of a chance of surviving than the mountains. Having no choice, he at last made a decision to chance the desert, though he had no idea how far away from it, or near to it for that matter, he was. The rubble could have carried them for miles, for the chasm and cliff face behind them seemed for the world to not have an end; and though he was still in Baroni territory (Damcyan began where the grass receded into sand) he was cut off from Lesser Baron, the center of the empire, and would not be found by even a scout ship.

Steeling himself he stood, ignoring the pain in his ankle and his throbbing head, and began to gather whatever equipment he could salvage (this included his helm, which had not been crushed beyond recognition, miraculously). He then limped over to the girl with no small effort, crouched as low as he could without falling over, and threw her over his shoulder rather unceremoniously. It would have to do he concluded, whilst gauging how long it would take him to get out of this patch of trees and onto a road (Damcyan was a peaceful land. It did not eagerly participate in the Baroni and Troian rush to claim territory, thus it could afford to spend taxes on things like roads leading in and out of civilization.).

He judged it was about midmorning, by the position of the sun, and determined to at least get them out of the woods before sundown; any grouping of trees can be a dangerous place after dark, and she would be more or less out of harm's way in an opening. Favoring his left ankle he set out, eager to find some sort of shelter before sundown, though it was unlikely they’d even find a small village this far out in the wilds.

Thankfully, he did manage to reach the edge of the wood before nightfall, and somehow limp up a hill by dusk, even carrying a young girl across his shoulder. From the top of the hill Cecil could see an ocean of golden sand, though he could not decide whether he was happy or fearful at the sight. He determined that he should not dwell on it, and set his mind on making some sort of rough shelter for the two of them, at least for now; he needed to recover some strength before he even attempted to cross the desert.

He also determined that he should not use Dark Fire to ignite the little wood he was able to gather while carrying a girl (he refused to leave her undefended, even if he was not much help in his current state); it was not beneficial to conjure something that would further harm their chances of survival. So he lit a fire with the flint he had saved from their supplies, and became exceedingly grateful he carried his coin purse under his armor; when they reached Kaipo he would be able to buy supplies with the little Gil he had. Cecil lay the girl down and set watch, knowing he would not be able to get any sleep until first light, for he had to tend the fire to keep the beasts away.

Unfortunately, he found it incredibly difficult not to nod off, even with the pounding behind his temple and the steady throb of his ankle, so he was jarred to full wakefulness when the sound of a cart came from the direction of the desert, traveling the road he’d found earlier that morning.

His hand flew, involuntarily, to the hilt of his sword, and he struggled to stand, cursing when his ankle gave way and he fell inelegantly into the dirt (though he was not usually a cursing man, there were instances when he found a normal expletive just could not express his frustrations clearly enough. Kain found this little oddity of Cecil’s entertaining, for he cursed up a storm when angry; Rosa found it charming and chivalrous.) Around the bend came a cart drawn by what surely had to be two chocobo, yellow blurs against the blue-black of the starry sky.

As the cart approached, Cecil could make out a form sitting at its helm, steering the chocobo toward Mist. He’d no idea what sort of carter would drive after nightfall, but suddenly his hopes soared. If he could buy at least the girl passage to Kaipo, where she could receive medical attention, and possibly a new home, he would die a happy man.

“Hail, stranger!” called the voice of an aged woman as the cart drew steadily closer, causing Cecil to start.

She was a squat grandmother with flyaway grey hair covered by a wide-brimmed straw hat. She peered at him from under it with shrewd, grey eyes “, what’s a youth like yourself doing out in the boonies?” he eyes caught the sleeping form of the girl “, and with a child, no less!”

“Mist has been destroyed by Baron,” he told her in a tone so even it shocked even himself. “I took this girl from that place to try and save her. Please—“

She cut him off with a glace. Her gaze turned appraising as she slid her eyes up and down his from (still splayed on the ground in an unseemly manor, Cecil did not particularly care. He was too tired too care for much of anything accept the girl’s safety.). “Hurt yourself, did ya?”

“Yes, in the rockslide,” seeing the blank look on her face, he expanded. “The mountains collapsed around Mist. It will be impossible to reach this way. One would have to charter a ship to a Baroni port, and Gaelach knows there aren’t many of those.”

She slid off her cart and went to the back, “then we’ll camp here for the rest of the night; using your fire, of course. Tomorrow we’ll start the drive back into Kaipo. Now way in all of creation your makin’ it there in your condition.”

“You’re not going to continue to Mist?” he asked, bewildered; he had been so certain she wouldn’t believe him.

She chuckled “, not unless you have an airship hidden in that armor of yours. If there’s been a rockslide like you said, there ain’t no way I’m getting to Baron with my goods. I’ll just have to go back to Kaipo.” She paused. “Now help me set up camp. I’ll let you hitch a ride and use some of my supplies, but nothin’ in this world’s for free, boy. You have to work for it.”

Cecil was grateful. Any other carter would have ignored him, or made him spend the little money he did have on passage to Kaipo. When he mentioned it to her, she just waved him off “, normally, there would have been no way in hell I’d have helped you, but this is to repay a debt. Some little bird told me about a rockslide, though, and now I’ll be the only carter in Greater Baron (as the continent was named) not wastin’ my time. I may even get a refund on these goods.”

Cecil wondered briefly at the impact this landslide would have on the world’s delicate economy. After all, the Mist Valley was the only direct route to Damcyan from Baron, and the same inversely. Damcyan was highly involved in trade with other nations (due to its climate, its central location, and the port city of Triton, southward of Kaipo), but Baron’s only other neighbor was Troia, and the two were sworn enemies.

Concern for his nation gripped him momentarily, but then he remembered Baron’s wealth of natural resources from all the land she controlled. It was possible Baron could become incredibly self sufficient. He knew she would; after all, Baroni were known for their ingenuity. In the end, the only ones who would suffer were the carters who ran the route from Baron to Damcyan, still a terrible loss.

Then an idea struck him. What if Baron were to extend her hand and use her wealth to build a port? They could then trade with Damcyan as well as countries like Eblan. Of course, she would also use it as an excuse to fund a Navy, and then the Baron Eight Corps would become the Nine Corps…

“What’s your name, boy? By that armor, I’d wager you live down in Necrograd,” her voice pulled him from his musings. “Or at least you did, at one point.”

“My name is Cecil,” he said, choosing not to elaborate.

She raised a bushy eyebrow at him, but said nothing except, “I’m Maude.”

Maude turned out to be a charitable, if slightly salty, woman. Cecil caught her staring at the girl again and again, and at last resolved to ask her about it when they’d settled down around his now happily crackling campfire. “You like children?’

“Yeah,” she smiled, her wizened face momentarily softening. “She reminds me of my own daughter, who’d be a grown woman by now, but that crotchety old bastard took her away with him when she was only six years old.” Her expression soured, but then became inquisitive as she queried. “What about you, Cecil? You got a family? Any kids? You seem to be pretty gentle with her.”

Cecil had never thought about fatherhood before, so the question took him off guard and he had to think for a moment before carefully choosing his answer. “No. I have no kin, and I’m an orphan. I’ve no wife, either, so there are no children.”

“Never had an affair?” she asked with a grin, and laughed as he shook his head, apparently at the expression on his face. “Ah, you’re a good boy. I’d have thought a young man as attractive as you would have been married off by now. All of the good ones go first, you know. That’s why I ended up with the bat that I did.” She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. “So then, you’re afraid of commitment, boy?”

Cecil thought of Rosa and then answered. “No.”

He was afraid of the Dark Sword. He was afraid it would become too much of a temptation and that he would loose himself to it again, just like that time five years ago. And what if Rosa were to be in the way? Or any child they would produce? He could not put her in danger. He would not.

“Aye. Yourself then, is it?” she said in a manor that was positively sagely, and Cecil felt as if her poignant grey eyes had stripped him naked to stare at his shameful scars; trophies of his sins. “Never mind. The food’s ready.”

They ate her bland soup without speaking. Maude agreed to take first watch and Cecil obligingly sunk into a deep slumber, a slumber of exhaustion unplauged by his usual nightmares.

He woke to the dawn, and asked Maude, rather indignantly, why she hadn’t woken him for watch. She just cackled good naturedly, slapped him on the back, and smiled a nearly toothless smile. “What good’s an injured Knight gonna do?”

He really had nothing to say to that.

Less than an hour and a half later he was sitting beside Maude in front of the cart, the little green haired girl sitting in his lap, still unconscious (he hoped she wasn’t seriously injured).

Cecil spent most of the day thinking, as Maude needed to concentrate on her chocobos, and found his mind wandering to the subject of fatherhood. Why he’d never given it a thought before he did not know. It certainly wasn’t because he was still a child himself. Heaven’s no, he’d lost his childhood long ago. It wasn’t because he wasn’t suitable marriage material; Kain had once told him that half of the women in Baron fawned over him as if he were a godling.

Cecil could only suppose he never thought about being a father because it seemed so out of reach; he figured he’d never marry.

Now, while stuck in the vast and unfriendly wilds, he found himself thinking about being a father. He imagined tiny hands reaching out to him, and trusting eyes that looked to him, admired him, that ultimately aspired to emulate him. Suddenly, he was frightened, more frightened than he had ever been before. Cecil had no idea what he would do. He’d no example to teach him how to father a child.

But then, looking at the tiny girl in his lap, he thought about the joy being a father could bring; especially if he had that child with Rosa. It would give him a sense of wholeness he had never had, a reason for being other than empty war, something to fight for. He could fulfill a purpose and find true happiness, but—

Alas, it was just a dream. Cecil would never admit to his love for Rosa aloud (for her own safety, he told himself; denying his feelings for her was not a punishment), and he would never bring himself to love another. It would remain locked within him forever, and Cecil could suddenly see the rosy promise of happiness skittering away on the hot, desert breeze.

They camped underneath a rocky overhang that night, the roof of the blab blackened by the smoke of campfires long dead. The desert nights could drop to below freezing, so finding a good shelter was rather important, and the overhang would help to trap the heat.

Later that night, Maude stared at him as he ate. He was having a difficult keeping fatherhood from his mind, and his struggle must have shown on his face, for she commented “, one so clearly blessed by the Twin Gods shouldn’t have such sad eyes.”

It was not the first time he’d heard something of the like, but he was surprised to hear it in the wilds. People outside of Mysidia and Baron rarely practiced worship of the Twin Gods. “This is just a fluke,” he told her, motioning to his appearance. “I’m no godling.”

“Aye, perhaps not, but my ex-husband would have said that you were Gaelach’s very reflection, though perhaps a shade or so darker.” She smirked. “The fierce little Red Moon, everyone knows, is Gaelach’s Airship. Red is the color of his flag because it is the color passion; it’s why the Baroni painted their airships red.”

Cecil, of course, already knew that. “What does that have to do with anything? How can I possibly be a reflection of the God of Justice when I’m…” he trailed off.

“What? A Dark Knight? A Pirate who raided Mysida?” she snorted derisively.

He stared at her in shock.

She rolled her eyes at him. “You may not be flying Baron’s flag over your head, but you’re clearly the one and only Dark Knight who led the Mysidi Raid. You have a guilt complex. Besides, ‘man of Baron’ is written all over your face. Baroni have a feeling to ‘em that I can’t really put clearly into words.” She sighed deeply, and then waved it off. “Anyway, you’re Gaelach’s reflection not because of how you look, but because of the way you act. Not many men would have saved that little girl. Not many men would tell a carter, let alone a woman carter, about rockslides, or even help her set up camp with a swollen ankle, and doing more than their fair share, at that. That benevolence, that inherent kindness, is at Gaelach’s core, even if he has a reputation for being a bit frosty at times. O’course, the fact that you wield that,” she motioned to his sword, “makes you darker; Gaelach is a being of light and cannot hold within him darkness. You, on the other hand…”

He said nothing, staring at his gauntleted hands. Usually the reasons given to him for ‘being a reflection’ of one of the Twin Gods was simply a reason of appearance. This woman was pointing to his character and highlighting traits he did not see within himself at all. Cecil did those things because it came naturally to him, not because of anything good inside of him. It simply was. And even if they were good deeds, he was sure that when every man was judged for his sins at the end of time, the Twin Gods would cast him into the Underworld, for his sins far outweighed any good he’d done on this world.

“For the record, it’s what a man does about his mistakes that matters, not the mistakes he’s made,” she said softly after a meditative moment.

Cecil promised himself, not for the first time, that he would stop Baron no matter the cost to himself.

XXX

They reached Kaipo by dusk the next day. Here, Cecil offered to pay Maude, but she refused him and was even kind enough to point him in the direction of the one of the cheaper, but more cleanly, inns in town.

When he arrived, the single maid on staff saw the girl and began to fuss over her. She caused such a ruckus that the inn keeper came to scold her, but he took one look and the girl and immedeatly offered Cecil a free room, meical supplies, and meal. cecil turned down the meal, insiting he didn't want to impose.

So it was that he found himsefl in a private room on the Inn's second floor, overlooking the moonlight waters of the Kaipo Oasis.

At last, he was finally able to tend to the girl and lay her down in a bed to recover. He was about to tend to his own when he felt eyes on his back, and turned around to discover the girl, staring at him with wide, green eyes. They were glistening with tears, and an expression of fear mingling with hatred was etched upon her face. It caused Cecil's already bleeding heart to further fracture, and he turned his face away from the fading light of her innocence.

"I know it doesn't fix it, not does it take away your pain," he said in a gentle voice, one that he had to will not to waver ", but I want you to know how sorry I am. I - I don't even know your name."

He looked at her to find that she had turned awy from him, and found that he couldn't balme her. "I know that it makes no difference to you, but my name is Cecil."

He turned away from her again and began to work, trying to swallow the pain that was trapped in his throat.

He removed his armor plate by plate and frowned at his thread bare shirt and sweat stained grey silk tunic.

They wouldn't do for much more than travel, and if he were to stop Baron he would need allies; powerful allies. In order to garner these allies he would have to look more than presentable. Unfortunately, all the clothing that would make the right impression was back in his wardrobe at home. Running a hand through his hair, Cecil resolved to buy at lest a decent doublet tomorrow, though he doubted he'd enough time, nor the funds, to seek the help of a proper tailor. He supposed he'd have to go for presentable and earnest, then.

Taking off his traveling boots he examined his ankle. It seemed to mending well enough, but it would do no good to strain it any further. What he needed was rest. All he could do now was spread a soothing salve over it and bind it with gauze to set it.

As he finished, the sound of footsteps dashing frantically up the stairs and the echo of claking armor greeted his ears. Every muscle in the Knight's body tensed, and he grabbed his sword from where it sat beside him on the bed, unsheathing it and standing just as the muffled shouting of the inn keeper grew loud enough to discern.

"-can't. Nothing is in there. Storage, it is. No! Stop! You've got no jurisdiction here!"

But his protests apparently fell on deaf ears, for Cecil's childhood tormenter forced his way through the door, flanked by two obviously green guardsmen.

Cecil's first thought was that he could easily defeat them, even with the obvious disadvantage of his swollen ankle. If he defeated Pangdorr the otehr two could be subdued quite simply; they weren't apt to put up a fight after the apprehension (or potential disembowlment) of their Lord. His second was that they clearly weren't expecting to see him here, by the looks of shock evident upon all their faces.

 He'd no idea how long he'd been gone from Baron, but apparently it had been enough time to declare him dead. That meant that their target was this girl, whom he was certain had Called whatever monstrosity had caused the rockslide at Mist. Were they truly that determined to destroy every last Conjuer?

Pangdorr took his presence in stride ", Lord Captain Harvey, had over the girl and we can all go back to Baron. Now harm will be done."

"I'm afraid," Cecil said in a vocie that made the two guardsmen blanch ", that I cannot do that."

"Then you are a still a fool," Pangdorr snarled, pointing the tip of his blade at Cecil, provoking his men into charging forward.

Cecil bypassed the charging guards with a quick sidestep, forgetting about his ankle in the heat of the moment. They'd built up enough momentum that they tripped over Cecil's bed and landed in a messy pile on the other side. Cecil used their diversion to dogde Pandgdorr's downward slice, hit the man in the face with his right elbow, and drive him back out of the door and down the stairs. He knew two guards so green would not have the gall to kill a little girl, and would decided to pursue the fight rather than stain their hands with innocent blood.

Spinning, Cecil locked swords with Pangdorr in order to stop a wild slive from hitting the nearby maid. He pushed the man back violently, causing him to loose his footing and tumble out over the threshold. Cecil placed the tip of his obsidian blade at the fallen Pangdorr's neck. A moment later his guards stummbled into the street, having miraculously managed to untagle themselves. Niether was foolish enough to attempt to cross blades with a seasoned war veteran and Dark Knight.

"Get out, and tell the King that he will soon have a threat to contend with. I will not allow him to take any more Crystals," he spat at Pangdorr's feet, Withdrew his sword, and slammed the door in their faces.

When he spun around, rage still boiling in his veins, he was meet by the jolly and rotund face of the inn keeper. "You just bested Baroni soldiers! You, neighbor, are a hero - willing to take on the Empire!"

Cecil, taken aback, shook his head ", no. I am just a man ensuring the saftey of this inn and that little girl. Good night, sir, and thank you."

He returned to find the girl stitting up. Her green eyes lighted on his form when he entered, eyes full of wariness and curiosity. "I'm Rydia," she muttered shyly.

"Rydia," he shut the door and walked to the edge of her bed to kneel at her feet. "It's very nice to finally meet you."

"You saved me, even though you didn't have to..." she looked into his eyes, and he realized that he'd torn the very fabric of her world to shreds. "You really didn't mean to kill Mommy or burn the village, did you?"

In the light of her forgiveness, Cecil felt the burden of his Darkness intensify tenfold. "No, I did not."

All at she slung her arms about his neck as far as the would go and buried her face in his chest, soaking his doublet with her tears. Gaining courage, he placed one hand on her back and another in her thick, green tresses. After a silent moment in which he simply held her, he said in a manor he hoped was soothing ", I promise that I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. Rydia, I will protect you."

"Promise?" she sniffled, staring up at him from the stronghold of his arms.

Another moment passed and they both entered the safety of their own beds, though Rydia's voice soon penatrated the darkness. "Cecil? Can I sleep with you? Only just this once?"

"Come here, Rydia."

And so Cecil went to sleep with the girl nestled into his chest.

XXX

Kaipo was a mid-sized town under the rule of Damcyan. It's north was bordered by a lush oasis which irrigated the town through a series of channels that cut the city into neat, geometric districts. Palm trees lined the street sides in neat rows, and buildings were made of thick, white clay that gleamed underneath the heat of the sun.

The people of Kaipo were all tanned from the constant exposure to sunlight and wore coarse, but brightly colored, fabrics. Instead of farming, the the lowliest members of society herded goats or sheep, living in the broad, dusty desert under the sparse shade of cypress trees.

On the third day after arriving in Kaipo Cecil finally felt his ankle was healed enough to go out, and so he set out to replenish their supplies with the little money he had left. He could no longer continue to tarry here, for Baron was a nation that did not waste anymore time than needed in preperation for its operations.

Even if he did not need to pay for the room they inhabited food and drink were still a nessecity, and his purse felt unsatisfactorily thin. Rydia was still sleeping when he left, and he left her in the care of the maid, whom he instructed to assure her of his safe return when she woke.

Cecil stepped out of the inn into the still cool early morning of the city, though the humidity of the oasis kept it from becoming too cold. His hand comfortably on the hilt of his sword, the Dark Knight traveled through the tightly packed homes of the southren most district. Eventually, he emerged ino the central market place, which was packed full of robed people, even early in the morning.

It was while leaving with his supplies that Cecil overheard two old women discussing the latest bit of gossip in hurried whispers.

What first piqued his interest was the description the tall woman gave of the Lady, who had apparently been found by a shepardess collapsed in the desert while she was driving in her sheep ", fair as the desert moons, they say, with hair spun of sunlight and the body of a godling."

"And she was found by a shepardess?!" the other, a rotuned dark haired woman, placed her hand over her mouth, her dark eyes dancing with exitement.

"Yes!" exclaimed the other, clutching her friend's hand in both her own. "And she keeps muttering a man's name over and over again. They say that he's her lover, a Lord from Baron!"

The heavy woman drew an audible breath. "Tell me more, dearest!"

"I have it on a very reputable source that his name is Cecil Harvey," at this Cecil's heart skipped several beats.

The other's eyes widdened even further, and her cheeks flushed with suprise. "The Dark Knight, Cecil Harvey? The one who massacred Mysidia!?"

Cecil froze. Perhaps enlisting help from other countries would be more difficult than he initially had thought. If even the common people knew his name, surely those in power would. Treating with them went from difficult to impossible, and his heart sank. Still, he would not give up. Baron must be stopped.

The bony woman nodded gravely ", yes. The latest news out of Baron is that he's passed away."

"Serves him right," the other woman sniffed, placing both hands on her hips. "Say, do you think she went looking for him?"

It was at this point in their conversation that Cecil left, moving a far away from them as possible.

After a frantic moment, Cecil stopped, realizing he'd absolutely no idea where she was. Taking a deep breath, he reached out to tug on the sleeve of one of the many citizens in the market. A man with blonde hair turned to face him, looking confused when he saw the one who had hailed him was not someone he recognized.

"Forgive me, but I have a question. The Lady the shepardess rescued, where are they keeping her?" his voice sounded too frantic, and he wondered if the man would snap at him.

Instead, his face softened, and he smiled kindly. "The young Lady is staying with the Shcliefers in the north district. Its a modest mansion with a domed blue roof. You can't miss it."

"Thank you for your time, sir," Cecil inclined his head and then set off to the north.

He reached the district in the heat of noon, and found that his ankle throbbed from walking, but he could not quit and go back when he was so close. The north district was spread apart, inhabited by the rich merchants of Kaipo.

In the country of Damcyan, nobles were often the families who had been in business the longest. The rich here, Cecil realized, could not possibly be as rich as those who lived in Damcyan's capital city of Saffrom, and so their palaces must be much more grand than those found here.

It did not take him long to find the mansion he was looking for, and he reached up to knock on the door, which was flung open before his knuckles even thouched the wood.

"If you're here to bother that poor girl, then leave!" squwaked the voice of an elderly man, who began to slam the door just as quickly as he'd opened it.

Cecil stuck his foot out and stopped him fom shutting it.

"She doesn't need any more company, sick as she is," snapped the voice.

Cecil pried open the door. "No! You don't understand! I am the Cecil she speaks of! Please--!"

The man ceased all attempts to resist and opened the door completely. Cecil found himself staring at a man with a full, greying brown beard and hard, but wise, green eyes. "You're Cecil?"

"I am. If she came here looking for me, I would very much like to see her," he said, ignoring the skeptisism in the man's voice. "Please. Rosa... Rosa means so much to me."

The man suddenly pulled him inside, moving with a speed suprising for someone of his age. "Listen, boy, she's very sick, so even if you're there in the room with here, she won't see you. About all we can do right now is wait for her to die."

"What!?" Cecil, completly unrestrained and not at all thinking clearly, grabbed the man by the shoulders; his vision flashing red, his heart thundering in his ears. "No! There is a cure for every sickness! There must be a way to save her!"

The old man stared at him for a moment, "you really do know her, don't you?" He shook his head dissmissivly. "There is a way, but the chances of saving her are slim, as her condition is already advanced. You'd have to go to Damcyan, recieve premission from the nobles to go to the place where the cure is, get the cure, and come back in five days. After that, I don't think there's much chance of saving her."

Cecil released the man and turned away, biting his lower lip hard enough to draw blood ", what do I need?"

"A Sand Pearl," the old man replied ", but, like I said, you'd have to get premission from the Damcyan royalty to go and get it. It's in the Antlion's Den, and Antlion's are so rare that the common people aren't allowed to see them."

"Then I'll do it," he resolved, turning back to face the man.

"She's back this way," the man said with a sigh ", but you shouldn't stay long if you want to make it back in time to save her."

He led Cecil down a hallway off to the left and opened one of the side doors to reveal a small room with only a single bed. On this bed was the form of a woman, a form Cecil recognized without prompting.

Though his heart had been thundering in his ears before, now it stopped cold.

She was flushed, clearly fevered, her skin glistening and slick with sweat. Her blonde hair was plastered to her face.

He stummbled to her side and fell to his knees beside her, running his hand along the length of her jaw tenderly. It made his heart ache just to look at her, and he placed his forehead against hers, his fingers trembling, his jaw taught.

"Rosa... Rosa, hold on," he muttered. "I promise I will save you. I promise I will come back to you with the Sand Pearl."

After a silent moment he stood and walked from the room, past the man and down the hall. He heard the old man trailing after him. Without a glance back, Cecil exited the mansion and returned to the inn, where Rydia was waiting for him.

"Cecil, what's wrong?" she demanded as he walked into the room, speaking in the manor typical of all women, no matter what their age.

"I have to go to Damcyan, Rydia," he explained. "A friend of mine has fallen ill, and I must go entreat the help of the nobles there in order to save her."

"Then I'm coming with you," she insisted, placing her hands on her hips and daring him to defy her with his eyes.

"Rydia, it's dangerous, you can't-"

"No!" she said indignantly. "I can use magic, Cecil! I can help you!"

He stared at her a long moment and then nodded, " fold the clothing the maid gave you and place it on my bed. I'll finish packing, and then we'll be off."

He'd only conceded because there was no arguing with a woman when she spoke in that tone. There was no way he could have won that arguement.

They left after a brief goodbye and set out within the hour, after gathering their supplies together. Cecil had packed his armor away in their supply bag, but he had slung his sword about his waist. He would not go out into the desert unarmed, no matter how "well traveled" it was.

According to the Inn Keeper they were heading for a cavern several miles to the north, the only route to Damcyan from Kaipo unless they were to charter an airship. Though Cecil relished the idea of flying through the air, chartering an airship involved Baron, and Baron's military, no doubt; there were very few commercial airships, even in Baron. He could not risk Rydia, or himself (for as long as Rosa was in danger, he could not die - he was the only one who would save her), by taking them up in a Baroni airship.

The two companions were slow, at first, but Cecil soon remedied this by picking up Rydia and carrying her in his arms. Even if his paced slowed because he was carrying both his youthful charge and the equipment, they made faster time becasue Cecil did not constantly have to stop walking to wait for her to catch up to him.

To Cecil's suprise, they had reached the cavern's mouth by nightfall the next day without event. They set camp in the cool green near the entrance, where Cecil taught Rydia useful things, like how to pitch a tent and start a fire. In return the girl told him wild stories about the Eidolons her people could conjuer. Cecil decided to return her stories that night with one of his own as she prepared for bed.

"Long ago," he began ", there were two brothers who were born to the Sky and Night. They were both very great men, though one was forced to stay in the Heavens with his parents, while the other was called to roam the Earth in search of his fortune. This is a story of the younger of the two brothers, Gaelach, the Father God of the Baroni."

"One evening, the brothers were comunicating through the scrying glass in Heaven's Crystal Palace and the great lake that would later become Lake Baron. Breithe said to his brother  'there is a tribe in the south who has the potential to become great teachers and mystics. I would like you to go and teach them my Arts.'

'But, brother,' Gaelach objected ', I do not know your ways.'

'Read the arcane tome you recived from Night, our father, and you will understand. Tell my people, these Mysidi, that they are only to use my Arts for practical reasons, never for war. Tell them to preach peace to the other seedling tribes of the world, and charge them to teach those with potential in my arts,' Brethie instructed his brother.

'I will do as you ask.'

And so Gaelach set out for the land across the sea, where he found a tribe of dark haired people who buzzed with the energy called 'Magic.' He spent many years teaching them his brother's ways, enstructing them in his edicts, and living amoung them. Soon, they came to know his brother so well that he passed to them the Crystal of Fire so that they may commune with him themselves. When he at last left them they were no longer a tribe of nomads, but a small village; four-hundered and nintey-six years had passed.

He returned to his land to find that he was no longer alone.

A city of stone rose up along the banks of the river, and though it was crude it was certainly advanced. No where else in the world was there a place like this, posessing the refinement of society. Still, they were crude. Gaelach resolved to teach them of morality, of honor, of warfare, and of justice.

They were not so unwise that these people, the extremly hardworking Baroni, could not recognize a God when he walked amoung them, and so they worshiped Gaelach and learned the lessons he had to teach.

Gaelach lived amoung them for only a quarter of the tme he had lived amoung the Mysidi, but his people learned much, and they loved him dearly. When he left, they did not weep, as the Mysidi had, but rejoiced for him, as he was finally allowed to return home, to the arms of Sky, his mother. They were pleased that he had loved them enough to teach them of his ways, and so they threw him a grand going away party. They still celebrate this festival today during the longest night of the year in the dead of winter, when the Royal Family of Heaven stays out at night to smile down upon the people of the world, their children."

Rydia had fallen asleep by the time he'd finished with his tale, exhausted from the long journey, though he'd done most of the work. Smiling, Cecil began his careful vigil, and only allowed himself to rest when the Twin Moons had set and the first rays of light peered though the distant eastern mountain peaks.