The desert heat swaddled him like a blanket made of feather down. Outside, the sun was scorching -- deadly even -- but in the shade of his oasis, the heat was a comforting weight. It played well with the cool blue reflected from the water and the sway of lush grass sprouting from its edges. If he closed his eyes, this place brimmed with nature in all of its sharpest extremes. It was nothing like home.

Kuja let out an indulgent sigh and let his hand rest on an open page of his notebook. He’d needed a moment to think, or rather, to open his mind from the narrow constraints of research. He didn’t know how long he’d confined himself to the depths of this place. Days maybe. A week at most living off of dried rations so he wouldn’t break his concentration by lighting a stove. The tunnels beneath the oasis were useful in their complexity and isolation, but the air quickly grew stale underground and the flickering of candlelight was maddening after days. It made his mind wander again back to those ashen halls where time stood still and death was a religion. Once his breath grew sallow and his fingernails bit sharp into the palms of his hands, he’d emerge again to his oasis to admire the heat and let his wrists trail across the water.

That was where he found himself now, lazily sprawled across the grass with his notes in one hand and a pen in the other. His work was too important to break from for even a moment, but a change of pace would keep him sane enough to focus. He knew that he was close. He’d already managed artificial life once before, after all. He just needed to account for new technology and the ever-mystifying properties of that forest’s “haunted” fog. It wouldn’t be long now. A few months at most, and then he’d hold the fate of nations in his hands.

Kuja didn’t know what it was that told him that he wasn’t alone. Perhaps it was the subtle sound of shifting air. Perhaps it was the bristling of his tail at foreign magic. Regardless, he knew it a second before he saw it -- a flash of lavender light and a humanoid form at the skylight of his oasis. For a moment, Kuja could only stare at it (’Where had it come from? How did it surpass his security? Was it flying?’) before his mind caught up and he was on his feet in an instant, hand outstretched and spells sparking on his fingertips. The walls around the oasis were nearly thirty feet high and blended in perfectly with the surrounding antlion tunnels. What was this thing and how had it known where to look?

None of that mattered. Not now when he could be facing down a friend, foe, or mindless monster. Still, that light echoed in the back of his eyes with the shadows of something familiar. His eyes narrowed into the sunlight as he sought to decipher it. Whatever it was, he wasn’t about to lower his guard.

”Can I help you?” His voice came shrewd and cool as he stared down the unknowable beast before him. Magic exuded from it in waves. ”I wasn’t expecting visitors, I’m afraid.”

ulla

It became quickly apparent that if nothing else, the thing before him was not a mindless beast. No, in fact, as the violet light faded like an afterglow from the creature’s skin, he saw it transform back towards its true nature -- a rather delicate looking girl. Kuja frowned at the waning magic before him. A trance. It could be nothing else.

The girl was like a stained glass window that shimmered in the sunlight but shattered under the slightest force of will. For a moment, he could only stare in awe of her. She wore a series of flower-adorned silks in red, white, and lavender. Scarves and bangles wrapped around her hips and tussled about her hair, pulled back in careless ringlets. She carried herself with a submissive stance, tottering in golden heels, and despite the sword at her side, she projected vulnerability above all else.

In a glance, she wasn’t so different from Kuja, really. They both carried with them a sense of hidden power that sparked at the edges of raised fingertips. They both adorned themselves in gold, violet, and glittering rouges. People thought him fragile. They thought him weak because lesser minds couldn’t associate beauty with strength. But Kuja’s eyes alone were different. His were sharp and focused. Hers -- oblivious and glassy. Kuja knew a victim when he saw one, looks be damned, but beauty was something to be admired -- and hers was as delicate as rose petals.

She pursed her lips nervously as she turned to face him, eyes darting towards her surroundings before meeting his again. ”M-my apologies! I d-didn't mean to intrude I promise!” she said in little more than a squeak. ”I was looking for an oasis, and I felt an intense magic coming from this place! I didn't know anyone lived here. I-if my presence is unwelcome I-I'll leave!"

It was the stutter that gave him pause. He couldn’t imagine feeling such panic over intruding on another’s space that he’d lose words over it. He supposed it was a fear of conflict over anything else, or perhaps a fear of overstepping her bounds. Either way, Kuja could give it nothing but disdain.

She begged him not to turn the situation violent. She opened her arms to display just how nonthreatening she was. And all the while, Kuja could only watch her -- half scathing and half taken aback by the spontaneity of it all. And he’d just wanted a break to read up on his notes…

For a moment, it seemed that she was actually kneeling before him to beg his forgiveness, but after a brief pause, she clarified, ”P-please sit down. M-my name is Terra.”

Terra.

Kuja’s eyes narrowed at that familiar name. Was this some kind of cosmic joke? No. He didn’t believe in such things. It was coincidence, pure and simple, but it was a dangerous one that left a sour taste in his mouth. Of all the names she could have spouted for him, why did it have to be that one?

And why did he feel as though he’d thought all this before? The sense of deja vu was nauseating.

Kuja didn’t sit. He didn’t kneel. He didn’t so much as change his stance. He did shake the magic from his fingertips, however, and cross his arms loosely over his chest. She hadn’t finished speaking.

The girl took a breath to calm herself. It didn’t work. ”S-so as I was saying, I was looking for an Oasis. T-the stories say that an old man drank of it's waters and recalled several memories of his life even as his mind failed him. A-and when I set out on my own to find t-the fabled oasis, I searched for several days before I found this place!" She looked at him as though she expected an answer, but he could only raise an eyebrow as she continued. ”I-if you could share any i-information about the fabled Oasis, I would really appreciate it!” she blurted out before bowing her head submissively. Kuja breathed slowly. Such displays of weakness always sent the magic in his fingertips sparking for blood. But no. That wouldn’t do. He’d already been far too unapproachable as it was.

This girl had power. As dim-witted as she might appear, there was use in that. Kuja threw his hair over his shoulder, eyes pensive, as he considered the ceiling.

”The oasis…?” he repeated slowly. ”I’ve certainly noticed some magical properties, but hardly anything worthy of note. I believe you’ve been mislead.” An easy feat, he imagined. He doubted it would take much more than a few hopeful words to lead this girl astray.

”As for myself, you may call me Kuja.” He offered her a sly smile and slid into a bow he’d perfected in the high courts of Alexandria. The queen had always relished in his grace. ”I’ve stationed myself here to research the planet’s more peculiar qualities. I sense that you’re not native to this place either, and from your pursuits into lost memories, I can assume you suffer amnesia. You’re not the first I’ve found who can claim the same, though I must say, you are the first to drop in on me from above.” He laughed softly behind the back of his hand before gesturing up to the cave’s skylight. ”These walls tower thirty feet high. But I suppose your magic cast you over the edge. What a peculiar magic it is too. Was that a trance?” He tilted his head in interest. ”I’ve hardly seen anything like it.”

ulla