Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
at adventu, we believe that colorful story and plots far outweigh the need for a battle system. rp should be about the writing, the fun, and the creativity. you will see that the only system on our site is the encouragement to create amazing adventures with other members. welcome to adventu... how will you arrive?
year 5, quarter 3
Welcome one and all to our beautiful new skin! This marks the visual era of Adventu 4.0, our 4th and by far best design we've had. 3.0 suited our needs for a very long time, but as things are evolving around the site (and all for the better thanks to all of you), it was time for a new, sleek change. The Resource Site celebrity Pharaoh Leep was the amazing mastermind behind this with minor collaborations from your resident moogle. It's one-of-a-kind and suited specifically for Adventu. Click the image for a super easy new skin guide for a visual tour!
Final Fantasy Adventu is a roleplaying forum inspired by the Final Fantasy series. Images on the site are edited by KUPO of FF:A with all source material belonging to their respective artists (i.e. Square Enix, Pixiv Fantasia, etc). The board lyrics are from the Final Fantasy song "Otherworld" composed by Nobuo Uematsu and arranged by The Black Mages II.
The current skin was made by Pharaoh Leap of Pixel Perfect. Outside of that, individual posts and characters belong to their creators, and we claim no ownership to what which is not ours. Thank you for stopping by.
And in the silence of the night Through all the tears and all the lies
It was dark; it was cold; and worst of all Vivi found himself all alone once more as he traversed the overgrown path in the Headstone Forest. With every step he took, he swore that the trees took one towards him as the path seemed to grow narrower with each passing foot. The large guiding burst of Fire magic he had conjured when he first approached the outskirts of the wood was now a dwindling flicker as to not set the foliage around him on fire leaving him only able to see two or steps ahead. Every snap of a branch or noise he hoped was made by an animal caused him to glance his large yellow eyes around in fear. There was no way he had gotten this far into the woods without realizing it was there? He had only just seen the squirrels by the path's entrance. Either way, he chastised himself with every passing step that he should have listened.
~ ~ ~ Days upon days had passed since Vivi had left Torensten. It had been obvious that neither his friends or answers were there. Following the path from the city's gates, he had stopped at each tiny settlement along the way. Some shooed him away afraid of all the strangers that had been coming and going for some time now. Best to keep to one's own ways they had thought. In the other settlements, kind words but nothing of value had been gained. No one who had looked like him had passed nearby at least or had been heard of. Armored knights, so called Princesses, and red haired men were all dimes a dozen round these parts now. Stranger looks came from his questioning about a boy with a tail, a rat woman, and girl with a horn, and some creature fond of food.
When he wasn't at a settlement, he was checking any interesting nook and cranny he could find. He had found himself in a bit of a panic when searching a little rundown town and had turned to find himself facing a growling bear towering above him. In his panic he instinctively cast a fire spell on the bear causing his fur to catch aflame and for the beast to run in pain. His own rashness had upset Vivi; wouldn't he be afraid too if a stranger had just started rummaging through his home, his village?
Later that night laid up against a tree, Vivi had trouble sleeping as he looked up in the vast starry night. Most nights since he had woken up on the beach had been like this and tonight he had the additional sadness of his violence against the bear weighing against him. He reasoned with himself that had he not done something he may have been eaten. But did it matter? He still wasn't sure if he was alive or dead anyway. He had a few ideas and theories. Was he inside the soul cycle waiting to be recycled? Did he even have a soul seeing as he was a creation and not actually born? At least it wasn't the Nothingness promised by Necron and the Crystal's destruction. A distant roar finally brought him out of his own thoughts as he tried to make himself smaller against the tree and sleep.
A few days later Vivi came across a couple of caravans at an intersection. The sign read "NORTHWEST: PROVO ; NORTHEAST: HEADSTONE FOREST ; EAST MT HOTAN." As Vivi stared at the sign trying to figure which way he should go a woman approached. Vivi asked her his usual question and she gave him a weary smile as she also had not seen any of those he sought. She did leave him with one piece of advice: "Your best bet is to head to Provo, little one. The Mountain bears dangers and the forest best be avoided for there's a darkness coming from that place. We'd give you a ride, but it seems we're heading where you've come from." Vivi thanked her and bid her a good farewell. With haste he began his trek towards the forest.
The Black Mages had hidden their village in a forest once before. Maybe they had just up extra protection this time to ward people afraid. Vivi knew how scared some of them must be able to move again after stopping. He didn't have answers, but he had companionship to give. Sometimes just being there for someone was better than nothing.
Vivi stood on the edge of the forest peering it. The sun was in the sky and he could hear birds chirping and saw some forest animals skirting along the front line of trees. A nice well worn path extended into a canopy of trees. With a jaunty little hum, he began to waddle into the Headstone Forest hoping to find his friends illusion wall in no time. It was exactly that long before the forest had swallowed him into its' dark belly.
~ ~ ~ Before he knew it, Vivi stumbled over a unseen root and tumbled his way into a clearing within the forest. It was still as dark as it had been but Vivi increased his tiny flame so he could survey his surroundings more fully. In the surprisingly spacious space, it seemed he was at a crossroads of sorts with a path splitting into three routes before him. Maybe his best bet was to turn around, but when he did so there was no path behind him anymore. Alarmed he turned this way and that to make sure he hadn't misplace his step, but no path presented it to the young mage.
Preoccupied with trying to find the path back Vivi hadn't noticed a fog beginning to pool at his feet. When he turned he noticed it forcefully rolling down each of the pathways blocking any vision he had previously had of them. He desperately looked for somewhere to run, but the fog overtook him before he even had the chance. It chilled him to the bone as he looked around the greyish white that enveloped him. There was something about this fog that felt sinister almost like. Mist? Could it be?
Vivi made the flame in his hand as big as he dared as his shivered in both fear and cold. The flame did little to help with site but it made a small circle of vision around him. Shadows seemed to dart just out of sight as Vivi began to tremble. What was this place? Where had he gone? He wanted to quit, to hunker down and cry, but he had to be strong. If he was going to find his friend, he had to be brave and go on even if he was afraid. Hadn't they taught him that? Mustering all his gusto, Vivi took small step by small step through the Mist, flame held high, trying his best to ignore what sounded like phantom laughs and twigs breaking. He'd get out of this someway. He had to if not for himself than for everyone else.
Please forgive my overindulgence. Also Kuja being a dick. He's projecting like no one's business
Why should the world exist without me?
”When you waste a vessel’s life, you waste my time. And I will not tolerate my time being wasted. Do you understand?”
His knees ached on the hard stone. His back had gone rigid. Before him, there was blood. Viscera. Torn and mangled flesh leftover from what he’d let his dragon to do to one of them. The dragon had fled at the first sign of danger, leaving behind a mess of mottled skin, slack lips, and dull eyes. The face looked almost like his. Too much like his.
”Kuja.”
Kuja tore his attention away to glance at the darkness looming over him. Garland never changed expressions -- not now and not ever -- but there was a cold tension from him that brewed so thick he could hardly breathe. Kuja opened his mouth. He tried for the words he knew were right (‘Yes, Master Garland. It was a mistake. I’ll never do it again.’) but his throat closed on itself and he felt his fists tighten.
”You’ll make more tomorrow.” He might as well have pushed himself off a cliff. His heart pounded a mix of exhilaration and fear as he tumbled faster, faster, faster. ”There are hundreds of them, aren’t there? And they never do anything. Not like me, going to Gaia and back for you! They’re worthless. Empty! So what does it matter?”
Silence. For a moment, there was only silence and that constant, suffocating tension. Kuja pressed his hands against his knees to steady them.
Finally, there was impact. ”I won't repeat myself.” Every syllable was like a dagger about to fall, but Kuja was already plummeting too quickly to see them. It wasn’t enough. It never was.
”Why do they deserve to live?” His voice rose, angry, shaking. For the first time, he lifted his chin to meet eyes that were colder and deader than those of the corpse at his feet. ”They’re all the same and I’ve done more than they ever have! They don’t deserve it! Not like me! So why-?”
His soul was seized by taloned hands. The breath was squeezed from his lungs as he felt himself fall forward, his palms scraping the ground. It was a familiar feeling -- a psychic intrusion that sought to dim his consciousness -- but the familiarity did nothing to steel him against it. Here on Terra, he was in his creator’s power completely. Here, he was only…
...a vessel.
”You deserve nothing.” The words surrounded him. A chilling voice. A dead soul. ”You exist for a purpose. That is all.”
His throat tightened. ”But I’m-!”
”A mistake.” So sure. Like mathematical truth. Kuja winced as the darkness took hold and his head spun. ”Your delusions have grown out of hand. Do you think you’re irreplaceable simply because you have a soul?”
His eyes fell to the wreckage before him. The splashes of blood looked almost violet beneath cool, lifeless blue. What was left of the Genome stared back at the light without comprehension.
”What has been given can just as easily be taken away.”
Blue eyes. His eyes. Cold and dead and staring. His soul flared its objections against bristled tail and gritted teeth.
‘They’re not like me.’
‘Not like me.’
‘Not me.’
***
The face below him was ghastly in its own chilling simplicity. The expression was wooden. The cheeks smooth and bulging as though stuffed. There was no life behind the blank and darkened eyes. In its full effect, it reminded him more of a doll than a man. Like a children’s plaything oversized and thrust upright. Or a puppet barely held aloft.
Kuja eyed his creation coolly. It was the product of months of research, experimentation, and error, and yet, it was nowhere near complete. He hated the lumbering nature of the thing. Its lack of grace, poise, or anything resembling beauty. Compared to the work of Terra, it was but a child’s imitation stitched together in an evening and displayed like a trophy. He supposed it was a trophy, to a degree. This was his reward for sleepless nights and wasted days, for skipped meals, drooping eyes, and feverish writing to flickered candlelight.
Pathetic. He’d start from scratch in the morning, but for now, he supposed he might as well let it join the others in the forest. Maybe its waking nature would surprise him.
A spell slipped carelessly from his lips, and he weaved it between his fingers like silkwork. His magic stitched together into a shroud of shadows before the thing’s face (Good. He wouldn’t have to look at the hideous thing any longer) before he cast his mind into the husk and activated the Mist within. There was a snap, a long sigh of air, and his creation stirred to life -- or something like it. It moved on its own. It made noises like breathing. And after a moment, two small yellow orbs pierced through the veil of darkness where its eyes might have been. They stared at him for two long, dull seconds before blinking slowly. Kuja’s teeth ground together in a snarl.
(‘How he longed to strike it! This empty mockery that was nothing like him! He hated its lumbering steps, its hollow voice, its blank eyes -- a chilled, solid blue-’)
”Go.” The word came sharp as a dagger’s blade. Kuja touched at his forehead, his nails pressing into the skin. ”I don’t care what you do. Just go.”
The thing stared at him, blinked twice, and lumbered into the forest.
Kuja hated the prototyping process.
It had taken him too long to get here. Too many frustrations in his ramshackle workshop in the middle of a haunted forest. He’d refurbished the dilapidated temple into his own personal lair. He’d created his own vessels from whole cloth using outdated technology he’d reversed engineered from nearly nothing. And all of it, he’d fueled on a strange, chilling fog that he still didn’t entirely understand. Even still, his attempts were crude. Back on Gaia, he’d automated the process to perfection -- thousands of mindless soldiers patched together on an assembly line. This early on, he had to do every step manually. It was exhausting.
It took him nearly an hour to notice that his traps had been triggered. Perhaps it was the stress of the evening or perhaps it was his intense brooding, but he hardly noticed the vague pull of broken, ethereal tripwires in the back of his mind. When he did take notice, he thought it must have merely been one of the forest’s many monsters, but no. He’d set it to only react to intelligent life, hadn’t he? Kuja cursed his luck, the fates, and whatever fool had thought to trespass in a haunted forest at night.
Regardless, it had to be taken care of.
His dragon snorted her complaints as he woke her that night. She was always as fussy about sleep as she was about food, but Kuja paid her little mind. Ava stilled as he pressed his palm between her shoulder blades and lifted himself effortlessly into his usual position on her back. A few whispered words and a coercion or two later and she’d lifted herself from the ground and taken flight against her better judgment.
This would be quick, he told her. Nothing but a trifling errand not five miles away. And she would be allowed free reign on whatever he left behind.
The flight took less than a quarter of an hour. Unfortunately, it landed him above a thick patch of fog covering what he presumed to be thickets of trees. Kuja bristled at the obstacle, but asked that his dragon lower herself into the mist. She did so begrudgingly, and Kuja felt a familiar prickle at the back of his neck as the fog crept across his skin in chilled tendrils.
When his dragon reached the treeline, she stopped, hovering there with heavy wingbeats that tossed him about like waves on a sea. Kuja eyed the fog hatefully.
Something would have to be done about it.
The spell slipped from his tongue and played at the edges of his fingertips, waiting. He waved his hand and released the power with a single word -- ”Aeroga.” A tempest wind swept through the trees in a cyclone of branches, leaves, and loose soil. It caught the mist like a whirlpool and funneled it out of the forest through its peak. Looking down, Kuja caught a weak and flickering flame somewhere in the foliage. His eyes narrowed. Was that magic?
His gaze swept from the flame to an oversized, patchwork coat, to a pointed hat that shivered in the wind. ”Oh.” Understanding flooded him as quickly as disappointment. ”It’s just one of you.” Disdain chilled his voice as thickly as Mist. It was only a black mage. Getting into trouble. Wasting his time.
Kuja slid from the back of his dragon, blasting through the tree branches with magic to clear his way, and casting a quick float spell on himself to slow his descent to the ground. He touched the forest floor lightly, straightening to eye the thing before him. He pushed back a handful of hair and scowled. ”How you managed to stumble this far out, I haven’t the slightest idea. A malfunction, probably.”Stupid. Bumbling. A waste of life.
”What? Haven’t you anything to say for yourself?” A smirk twisted on the edges of his lips. Of course it wouldn’t. These mages weren’t capable of speech. But it amused him anyway. ”Or perhaps your strings have been tangled in the wind?”
And in the silence of the night Through all the tears and all the lies
Even as the fear surrounded his heart threatening to close like a vice grip, Vivi persisted. This Mist as he was almost sure it was reminded him too much of a home that seemed as far away as a distant star. A dark thought crossed his mind as he waddled ever so slowly in the thick of it all. Had he somehow been transported to Terra instead when he died? Was this the future or the past of that alien planet. He hadn't seen any genomes, but a lot of people who had looked like that scary man who had made Zidane and Mikoto in Torensten.
How long had he been wandering? It felt like an eternity but he knew he'd only been in the grove for maybe five minutes. It wasn't much different than when he, and Zidane, and Mr. Steiner had went searching for the princess in the Evil Forest. Still, he had them there with him and now he was all alone. In this forest and in this world. It would be such a comfort if he knew they were alright, that his children had met them finally. The idea that they had and they loved each other as much as they had loved him caused his heart to flutter and his resolve to strengthen against the gloom and doom he found himself in.
And almost as suddenly as the fog had encroached and descended upon him it was gone. Vivi blinked his large yellow eyes a few time as the scope of the forest came into view. He was definitely in the same clearing that he had been before being consumed by the engulfing fog but he had made it about half way across and was in its center. A sigh of relief left him almost in tandem with the fog the surrounded him. Perhaps it was just a test. Something the other Black Mages had set up to deter unwanted visitors from finding them in this dark dark forest.
His body tensed as if he had known someone was there before the word and the floating visage had come crashing down to his realty. That voice. That condescending tone that let it be known that you were being talked to. Vivi turned to see a man who shouldn't be there floating gracefully to the ground as everything but the man turned to black in his sights. It couldn't be , but cleared than the forest that they inhabited Kuja was standing before him; a man who should be dead as he was.
A million emotions flowed through him in that moment. A sickening release that he saw someone he knew no matter how vile the person it was. A wave of relief to know that among the people he knew no matter how reviled he was not alone. That revulsion led to sadness. It must be true that he was dead then. Kuja must have died and Zidane along with him when his best friend had went back for his brother in that collapsing tree. The tears that threatened to stain his face turned to rage though. No, this was a trick somehow this bully was behing this. Before he even could control himself the flame in his hand grew thrice as bright as he hurled it towards the phantom of the worst person he had known.
It missed sailing right by him as his last words to Vivi died in the air. The anger boiled within him as if it were a pot Eiko had put on the stove to feed them all. "You...you," the words hot and heavy and stuttered as Vivi let the feelings reinvigorate his spirit after his sudden burst of a Firaga spell. He wondered if this was really him or something else playing at him. Still the sneer and dejection for someone other than himself makes Vivi believe it's the real deal. Was this the afterlife then, torture after torture until you met your ultimate pain in life once more to dredge you through eternity?
"We weren't all the same!" Vivi yelled as the anger manifested into the black magic in his hand. "Where's Zidane? Why are you here? Are you just a phantom of this place or are we doomed to know each other here, dead as well?" Was Zidane dead too? Why hadn't he seen him here instead of this hateful man? Vivi's eyes were teared up but he wouldn't let one slip. Not in front of the person who caused almost everything else wrong in his short life. The darkness in his hand and his emotions could not be contained any longer. The dark doom set to destroy this visage turned into a demi spell as Vivi regretted trying to harm another person. He knew he could be strong; that's what his friends had taught him, depsite the doubt that coursed through him. Was this real, or just part of the evil he had been warned about this forest?
Before the words had left his lips, Kuja felt the heat of incoming flames. He dodged on instinct, sidestepping the danger before his conscious mind could process it. The fireball surged past him inches from his bare stomach, nearly singing the few stray strands of hair that whipped behind him. Kuja saw the light, the flame, the smoke that only grew more pungent as the fire burst upon impact in a nearby tree and fizzled on smoldering bark, and his eyes widened.
The mage had attacked him. His tail bristled his indignation.
”Was that supposed to hit me?” he said though of course he knew the answer. The aim was pitiful and the magic less than impressive, but the intention was clear enough. To harm. He felt his own magic spark at his fingertips, ready for retaliation.
But the mage seemed less than interested in what Kuja had to say. ”You...You…” There was rage in its miniscule voice. Actual emotion quivering and about to burst. It was all so unexpected that Kuja couldn’t help but stare in mild astonishment. Was it a malfunction or…?
Did this mage have a soul?
"We weren't all the same!" The outburst was as unexpected as it was wild. A child’s wrath with balled fists and fiery eyes, but there was a certain tension to it that sparked on the wind. Magic. It built around the mage with every word. "Where's Zidane? Why are you here? Are you just a phantom of this place or are we doomed to know each other here, dead as well?"
Darkness rose from the mage’s hand. Darkness as thick and obscuring as Kuja’s own confusion. A phantom? Dead? It had all come so fast that for a moment, Kuja could only blink at the mage, dumbfounded. It was then that he noticed that this mage had a different design than the rest. A little more patchwork. And wasn’t it smaller than he’d made in the past weeks? Kuja played through the outburst again until his mind settled on a single word and everything clicked into place.
Zidane.
”Oh.” It seemed at once so obvious that Kuja could have laughed at himself for his own gullibility. ”You’re that one. Zidane’s pet. Always following at his heels. Forgive me, I have trouble telling your kind apart. Something about the face, I presume.” He did laugh then, a cold, cruel laugh he only ever gave at another’s expense. He touched at his forehead and looked up to admire the pale shafts of moonlight filtering through the treetops. ”Though I can’t help but wonder what tricks of fate have led you here of all places and now of all times. An alignment of the stars, perhaps? Or of planets.” His smirk came bitter. Truly, the timing was ironic.
”Believe what you will, but I’m disappointed to say I’ve done nothing with that brash idiot since I found my way to this place. In fact, you’re the first I’ve met who’s known me. A pity. I’d have liked to have trifled with the princess again. Her beauty was unmatched even in her grief.”
Kuja swept his hair over his shoulder and glanced aside to eye the indignant mage before him. He cast him a cool and bitter smile. ”But alas. It seems I can hope for no better company than a puppet.” He touched at his bottom lip and laughed again, quietly behind his hand. ”How very…underwhelming.”
And in the silence of the night Through all the tears and all the lies
Vivi did his best to keep from shaking. Why wasn't he saying anything? The ball of darkness that swirled in his hands matched perfectly the emotions he was so passionately feeling. Maybe the lack of speech proved it was just a ghost, a trick the forest was trying to play on him. He really just wanted to leave now and forget that this visage had even appeared before him. For a split moment, Vivi felt a sense of relief release the vice grip that had clutched at his chest. But it was only for that moment.
There was no doubting it. This was the real Kuja, no illusion could match the hateful indifference that man spewed. Vivi's eyes widened at the realization. They way he was being talked to instead of with was infuriating him. He was acting as if he was still in charge of everything like Vivi and his friends hadn't stopped him from destroying the world. "I'm not a pet. Zidane's my friend." he yelled clenching the tiny fist that wasn't conjuring at the moment. How dare he say something like that. And none of his black mage friends looked alike, Mr.222 would wear his in a different funny way everyday and Mr. 78 had singe marks on the brim of his. Kuja just didn't care enough to get to know them.
Did he not realize that he was dead too? Vivi had no other explanation for the question he had no intention of answering. He wouldn't tell Kuja anything; he didn't deserve the kindness of knowing. He thought he knew everything and how everyone but this time the joke was on him. Vivi began to wonder if he should tell him though, maybe it would knock his haughtiness down a peg or two to know in the end he was more like Vivi than he wanted to admit.
But before anything could be said Kuja had started talking about Zidane and Dagger. "I...I won't let you," he stuttered anger flushing back into him as Kuja talked about Dagger. Vivi wasn't going to let Kuja or anyone hurt his friends again if he could help it. He hoped they weren't here, and if Kuja was telling the truth, and Vivi hoped this one of those rare times, they weren't. A small ray of light in this otherwise awful situation.
Then Kuja said the thing that Vivi hated hearing the most. "I'm NOT A PUPPET!" Vivi yelled finally letting the magic that had been pooling in his hand volley forward. It was an attack, but he hadn't aimed it at all. He just let his anger and hurt swirl in the darkness that escaped. Not nearly as fast the magic he hurled, Vivi hurried behind it in Kuja's direction. He wasn't going to run this time. Vivi was going to confront Kuja if only to keep him from hurting anyone else. "People aren't yours to use! We aren't play things to amuse you. You, you," Vivi searched for a word that would Kuja is such a thing existed. He thought of all the names and descriptions Zidane had called him and finally settled on, "you're just mean!"
The war cry came with a current of darkness and the familiar pull of anti-gravity. A demi spell. Kuja did what he could to sidestep the worst of it, but it wasn’t a spell to be avoided so much as endured. Instead of striking back, he touched a sparking finger to his own wrist and hardened his defenses with an anti-magic Shell. It struck him like an ocean wave, nearly knocking him backwards and clawing at him forcefully towards the ground. Kuja grit his teeth and squared himself against it, wincing as he felt his power draining.
’Just get through it. You’ll deal it tenfold soon enough.’
”People aren't yours to use!” The mage’s righteous indignation pierced the shadows. ”We aren't play things to amuse you. You, you…!" It paused, searching for the right words. ”You’re just mean!”
Kuja laughed then. Loudly. He couldn’t help it. And as the shadows died back to lap pitifully at his boots, Kuja stood his ground, unfazed except for the slight displacement of his hair and a new fire in his eyes.
”Was that your first insult? Congratulations. A little longer, and I might almost call you sentient.” He spat the words with renewed malice now. Gone was the play at formality and restraint, replaced by something far more primal. Kuja hated to admit to the blood lust that coursed through him at times like these. Times when he’d suffered slights and offenses that made his tail bristle yet he’d plaster on his same, plastic smile. But there was no audience now save for the two of them -- the actor and the victim. He had no cause for restraint.
No. There was no denying it. His soul cried for blood.
”It seems I’ve struck a nerve.” He laughed again into his hand before tilting his head at the mage. ”Such grand speech, and yet, how many could you save from their fate? The weak lose their will to the strong, and heroic words won’t alter the course of nature.” Kuja scowled as he straightened, turning fully to the mage and keeping ready on his feet. Spells could strike as rapidly as the tongue could speak them.
”But if you so long for dramatic retribution, then I shall play the villain yet. I can’t have you running off and slandering my name, now can I?” There was a pulse across his right hand. It had been some time since he’d wielded his magic for murder. Too long. ”Thundaga.” The sky shuddered then split open with a bolt of streaking violet. It crashed to the earth in heavy thunderclap that splintered the trees above them and caught the branches on fire. Kuja was moving before he saw it land. The mage was clumsy, but it wasn’t a novice. It wouldn’t take long to retaliate in kind.
How long had it been since he’d had a battle of magics? Not since his days on Terra, most likely, and this time his target couldn’t teleport. Or mind read. Or seize him in a psychic grip. No, this was a Gaian. A puppet. His own creation with less than a year of experience under its comically overlarge belt.
Kuja’s blood was boiling with latent energy. He’d recharged by the time the his eyes had focused once again from the thunder’s blinding light. He touched his fingertips to his lips, muttered an incantation, and let it loose with a swipe of his hand. ”Flare!”
This battle, as climactic as it might be, wouldn’t take long.
And in the silence of the night Through all the tears and all the lies
Kuja was still laughing at him. That's all their interactions ever really were weren't they; Kuja sielntly or no so projecting his supposed superiority over Vivi. This time though Vivi wasn't going to endure his mockery. He wasn't the timid little person he had been back when they had first met. He knew there was so much to fight for now aside from his self. He wasn't listening as Kuja spilled out his theatrics and over the top dramatics. All Vivi was thinking about was that the man who made his life a hell wasn't going to make his death into one.
Vivi almost didn't duck out of the way in time as a burning branch came tumbling from the canopy where the Thundaga's spell hit the hardest. His body skidded in the foliage for a moment before hitting hard against the base of a tree. Disheveled Vivi got up and frantically tried to pinpoint were Kuja was. Seeing the man, a green miasma spread from Vivi's outstretched hands, "Bio!" he yelled letting the plague make its way towards the intended target.
It paled in comparison to the spell Kuja had conjured up. The nova of the flare pulsed as the magic grew in size. It was a spell meant for destruction; his destruction in this case. He didn't have time to do anything except hit the forest floor as the tendrils of pure energy lashed out in every direction almost looking like a small star exploding in front of him. Vivi could feel it burning his back and the top of his head. The sounds of pain he made were eclipsed by the noise of the sensation. Almost as soon as the spell had started, it stopped.
Vivi lie there for a moment, perhaps a moment too long but it didn't matter did it. Was this how things worked? Was this the way it would always work? He had thought death would be peaceful, like falling into a deep deep sleep. This was worse than the worst things he had imagined. Something nagged at him though, how could he feel as though he were about to die again? He felt broken even though he had been spared the brunt of the spell's power.
He pushed up with his forearms gritting his teeth against the pain that begged him to lie back down. He had promised, he would never do this again. Not after learning that it hurt his friends as well in that one fateful battle in Memoria. It was chaos, it did not discriminate, its one purpose to destroy. But his friends weren't here. He was alone facing the source of all his problems. He had died once, dying again wouldn't be so bad if the spell hit him harder than it did Kuja. He didn't expect it to defeat Kuja, he was far too strong for a single spell to take him down. Vivi immediately felt the regret for his act of hate as soon as the word slipped from his mouth, "Doomsday." What had he done? His own horror at his own hatred gnawed at him and somehow made the burning pulsate even harder. With the spell started, Vivi slumped back down to the ground his energy spent.
Kuja knew it instantly from the moment that the mage whispered its spell and slipped like a quivering leaf to the forest floor. The winds had changed. Kuja’s tail bristled at it; his breath stood still. In all of his life, he’d never felt anything so malicious as the energy that engulfed him now. In seconds, the skies had turned red with its bloodlust. Kuja had already forgotten their battle and stood there, awe-struck by the scene before him. It was like something out of an apocalyptic legend.
(’And on that day, the skies were drenched in blood. The air spit fire and the seas roared their judgment. On that day, the last of all, even the most cunning of evils shall know humility.’)
The sky was lit not by silver moonlight, but by fire and something else -- a rapidly approaching something that framed the sky like a lunar eclipse. His eyes widened as he realized the scale of the thing, of the five tons of stone and fire hurtling towards him, and time seemed to slow as his stomach turned and he could ask himself only one question: ’How?’
How had it come to this? How could anything in his life had taken such a fatal turn? There was no such thing as fate, as luck, as mere chance even -- no, he’d always controlled his own fate, and yet here he was. Staring down what could only be described as divine retribution. What had he done to bring himself here, and what in the names of Gaia, Terra, and everything inbetween had the black mage summoned?
The earth trembled. The winds struck across him like the wrath of a hurricane as the tree branches quivered, groaned, and snapped against its force. Was this what the people of Madain Sari had seen as they’d faced their fates beneath a fiery, bloodshot eye? There was no stopping whatever primordial spell the mage had started, and it became quickly apparent that this was not something that either of them were meant to survive.
No. Let the puppet have its death. Kuja refused to take part in it. There wasn’t time to flee nor even to teleport, not when Kuja had only barely begun to master that particular magic. That meant there was only one remaining option -- endure. Kuja dodged away from the mage lest the doomed thing try to stop him, muttering incantations as he went. Shell. Reflect. Protect. Anything that might resist the fate that came hurtling ever closer towards them. The heat singed against his skin and the inside of his lungs. The winds ripped away leaf and branch and underbrush indiscriminately as they tore at his hair and clothes and eyes. Kuja raised an arm against it and then there was impact.
The force was staggering. Oppressive. Kuja’s knees buckled at the weight of it all, collapsing into him in a landslide of metal and rock and fire and heat. Kuja pushed back with everything that he had. All of his magic. All of his energy into the spells that protected him. His vision swam with the effort. His palms clutched at scorched and broken earth. How had this happened? How and why?
He’d seen this spell before. The memory of it swam on the fringes of his splintered subconscious. He’d felt this malicious power before. The same primordial energy of a magic long forgotten. Somewhere...Somewhere in a void of shimmering stars and lit in deep red.
Somewhere wrapped in crimson feathers and a burst of violet light...falling…
The earth burned hot against the side of his cheek. Kuja shuddered as the shadows faded and he felt his body stir against rubble and ash. That terrible power had dissipated. Just a spell like any other. Kuja let out an unsteady breath as he lifted himself from the dirt. Heavy. He grimaced as he staggered upright. Heavy and fractured and limping.
But alive. Kuja scowled as he cast his gaze across the ruined clearing before him. Where there had once been a verdant den of trees, now there was only a crater of detritus and debris. He took account of every pain in his body like a mental checklist -- nothing broken, nothing punctured, but sore -- oh so sore and near collapse. Did he have enough magic left to heal himself? A little, perhaps, but he didn’t dare use it, not before he’d seen that puppet broken and dead at his feet.
”Are you still breathing?” His voice was unsteady as he called to the thing. Still choked with ash and malice. ”A pity if you are. I’ll have to fix that.” Kuja eyed the shadows coolly. Maybe the mage had been flung like a doll into the forest or maybe he’d find its pointed hat wilted and buried beneath the rubble. One could only hope…
But as he forced himself forward, a lingering thought returned to him. That strange, loathsome vision that had fluttered on the edges of his waking mind. Kuja stopped his murderous path and considered the broken earth beneath him.
Since the day he’d first arrived on this worthless planet, he’d had the overwhelming feeling that he’d lost something. Something important and painful and that he longed to forget. Since that first day, he hadn’t seen another soul who’d known him, but now here he was. Facing down impossible magic cast by a mere puppet that he’d known to cower in the wind.
How had this happened?
”That spell. I’ve seen it before.” Kuja spoke slowly, almost to himself as though he were solving a puzzle or a particularly obtuse poem. ”How could a puppet know a magic that I’ve never even heard of? It’s impossible, unless…” Kuja touched at his forehead with a grimace. His temple was pounding.
There was something there when he thought hard enough to split his own skull in two. Something dreadful and dark and covered in haze. His heart pounded at the thought of it like some residual panic left behind on instinct alone. There was something there. Something he didn’t want to remember, and yet…
Kuja straightened. ”You know something, don’t you?” His attention snapped from forest to shadows to rubble. ”Where are you? Answer me!”
And in the silence of the night Through all the tears and all the lies
Oh god what had he done. Vivi could only force himself to stare up as the culmination of all the fury he held darkened the sky. All of it in the air now leaving Vivi feeling remorseful, sad, and resigned. He doubted that his friends would be proud of him this time, an act caused by base emotions. Actions had consequences ,and he was prepared for them. He listened as whatever lived in the forest scurried and ran from the doom he had wrought. The only consoling thought he could think was that maybe he would end up somewhere better after he died this time.
Vivi didn't want to watch, but he forced himself to. It was massive as he remembered. The he had been naive just thinking it was a spell to use like any else. He had felt the same horror as all his friends watched the devastation that he had unleashed. Now though he deserved to see his hubris be his downfall. Something changed though as the heat radiated in pulse waves charring his already blackened hat and clothes. A familiar sensation covered him, but a little bit of the care and warmth was gone from it as if it were just a steel sheet weighing on him rather than a warmed blanket. Was that protective magic? He didn't have much time to think about it as impact occurred.
The force of the impact caused Vivi's limp body to project across the clearing all the while he felt the darkness tear at his clothes, his hat, his skin, and his mind. The magnitude of it all swallowed him in a cacophony and pain, heat, and hate. He cried out as his limp body slammed against the charred and splintered trunk of a tree and he fell fast and hard as he rolled to a stop into the crater he had created.
Vivi lay there broken, darkness spilling from the wounds he had incurred, but somehow, miraculously, still alive. Each breath he took felt like he had taken ten puffs of a pipe as he wheezed his shallow frame heaving with each heavy breath. His eyes dimmed as the silence of the aftermath crashed around him almost louder than the attack had been. He stayed that way for a moment as the magic continued to ooze from his broken shattered body. But then he heard the thing he dreaded but knew was bound to be true. Kuja had survived the attack.
Not only had he survived, but he was dead set on finishing the job Doomsday had failed to do. He waited for the final blow, the final magic that would send him to the other side yet again, but it didn't come. Was Kuja just playing with him as usual? Willing himself he turned his head upwards to see Kuja closer than he had hoped. In the stillness of it all Kuja's words carried loud and clear. Why was he acting surprised by all of this? He had used far worse on them in the depths of the universe. Unless, "You...." the words came soft but harsh from pain as Vivi willed them out lying there watching Kuja search for him, "You really don't remember?" The magic inside of him now spilled from his mouth as he spoke and the sigh that escaped him. How lucky he must be not to have the weight of remembrance crushing into him like a cosmic force. He deserved to know Vivi justified. "In, in, Me, me," he started using the last bit of his energy before his head went back down to the ground. He was out cold lying there as his essence slipped from him.
The clearing was silent but for the wind and the distant rustling of trees. Kuja’s nails dug deep into the palms of his hands. He could feel it screaming in the back of his mind, trapped like a thorn festering deep in flesh. There was something there. Something lost. Something he’d forgotten.
Kuja was about to shout again when he caught a stirring not too far from his feet. The sliding of broken earth, a rustle of cloth, and then a voice so soft he could barely catch it. ”You…”
His eyes narrowed as he turned to face the sound. There, veiled in shadows at the bottom of a particularly jagged pit, was the mage. Its head was slumped to one side, its yellow eyes dimmed and drooping into half-crescents. Kuja’s lips thinned at the sight of it.
Pathetic.
The mage shifted again. Pure essence slipped from its mouth as it struggled for breath. Its sagging eyes found his and there was something almost sad in them as it told him what he least wanted to hear. ”You really don’t remember?”
”Remember what?” Kuja shot the mage a sharp look, eyes blazing. ”What do you mean?” His voice was rising. Wild. The mage gave a long sigh as more of its essence slid out of it like smoke.
”In…” The word came slow. Quiet. ”In. Me. Me…”
And then the mage died.
”What.” Kuja stared at the huddled form beneath him, eyes engulfed in shadow, head limp and drooping. Motionless there, it looked for all the world like a ragged, beaten doll tossed from the heavens and left to rot. The moonlight shifted and shuddered across the broken figure before him and the wind whispered with the mage’s last words. In me.
Something hot rose below Kuja’s throat.
”Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?!” He threw an arm in the mage’s direction, eyes narrowed, fingers sparking. ”In me?” The words were caustic on his tongue. ”'In me?' What kind of answer is that? Are you trying to test me? Was this all some kind of game?"
The mage didn't answer. Kuja's eyes flared at the silence. "You stupid! Worthless! PUPPET!”
His fist clenched and magic seized the mage in its violet grip. One swipe later and the mage’s body was sent flying like a ragdoll across the clearing, tumbling over itself through the air until it slammed boots first into the nearest tree. Kuja’s jaw clenched as he let out a noise of pure frustration through his teeth. All this time, he’d known there was something wrong. Too many times, he’d accepted what didn’t make sense. Too many times he’d met strangers who he remembered in some distant past life in the back of his mind. He didn’t know how he got here. He didn’t know how to get back, and all this time, there’d been that something, something, something lodged beneath his memories like festering Mist screaming for release.
Then this mage had come along. Waddling its idiotic way straight into his hands. And instead of telling him anything useful, it had simply killed itself.
”Stupid!” he yelled again before throwing a hand through his hair and pacing forward. ”’In me?’ Am I supposed to dissect it? Is there something in its soul? I couldn’t look through its soul if I wanted to! Not here! And where would that even get me? This was nothing but a waste of time!”
Kuja stopped. Somehow, he’d ended up at the mage’s side again. Subconscious, he supposed. He glared at the crumpled thing before him. A worthless tool unworthy of life. A creation he never should have patched together out of Mist remnants and mistakes. He sneered at it. ”At least I’m not you. Stupid and righteous and dead!” Kuja fists clenched as he drove the tip of his boot so hard into its stomach that the thing rolled over.
There was a small noise like a whimpering dog and another burst of essence from its shrouded lips. Kuja paused. Still alive. Only barely, but it was something. Kuja eyed it hatefully before kneeling in the dirt beside it. He touched at its chest and waited. Beneath layers of coat and cotton, he felt the vague, shallow rising of breaths. His fingers curled around the binding of its coat in a talon-like grip.
”Maybe you’re not useless to me afterall.” He glanced at its shadowed face, rolling onto its shoulders and the collar of its coat. His lips pursed again. ”But I can’t let you die yet. Why do you give me nothing but trouble?” He let out a short breath before rising again, mage in hand. He cast his mind into the night for his dragon and felt her hiding in a cove not a quarter of a mile away. Ava was as intelligent as she was capable. She’d likely bolted at the first sign of danger.
”I need you.” Kuja closed his eyes and let the words slip from him in his native, Terran tongue. Somewhere, far away, he felt his dragon shift uneasily. ”There was a distraction, you see. Nothing worth caring about, but I’ll need your assistance tonight.” Kuja opened his eyes and looked up at the sky, so vast and empty and gray. He wondered at the size of it. Of its expanses and shadows, and he thought for a moment that he might lose himself to it. Then he turned himself away and looked back to the mage, head tilted and eyes cool. A shadow of a smirk played on his lips as his nails scraped the puppet’s neck.
