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year 5, quarter 3
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[attr=class,bulk] It was the early hours of the morning by the time that Celes finally stumbled through the doors to the Wyvern’s Rest and closed them behind her, leaning against them for a moment so that she could take a long, deep breath and let out the longest, most vulgar string of profanities she could imagine.
Torensten, it seemed, had no end to its emergencies which only a competent off-worlder could solve. She wondered how it had ever survived without them.
She was sweaty, blood-streaked, disheveled, and exhausted. She wondered how she’d even made it back on legs that could barely carry her, but she had, and now she stood against the heavy wooden door, trying to direct her mind towards the next course of action.
Removing her armor. She could do that, surely. And then she would sit and take off her boots and…
Celes groaned, locked the doors, and started towards the couch. First, she unstrapped her grieves, her hands fumbling at the buckles as her likely sprained wrist refused to cooperate. She dropped them on the floor once she was done and then finally, blessedly, sat down.
Her pauldrons followed and then her bracers and then her boots which invoked another groan, this time of pain and relief as she freed her feet from their leathery prisons. What came next? A bath? Bed? Both seemed impossible when she was already sitting and her feet were protesting in full. Instead, she merely fell sideways, arm under her head, hair strewn about her in rough, sweaty tangles. Surely it wouldn’t hurt just to close her eyes for a few minutes. Surely…
She woke to the sound of birds cawing outside the window.
Celes stirred in the dull light of dawn, opening her eyes and blinking slowly and without comprehension. The light that filled the room was a blue-ish purple. Which must have made it…five o’clock? Six maybe? She winced as she raised her arm to find that her wounded wrist was red and swollen. Her feet ached – blistered, most likely. Somehow, she’d fallen asleep with her sword still strapped at her hip.
Celes sat up slowly, feeling like something that had crawled out of the sewer. Her mouth was dry and rank. Her head pounded. She would have thought she had a hangover if she hadn’t known better. Outside, the birds kept on with their morning cawing. They sounded somehow judgmental.
She needed to move. She needed to get up and take care of herself no matter how much she longed to sit here for the rest of time, slowly melding into the fabric of the couch. After far, far too long, she finally summoned the willpower to stand. Then she slowly, painfully, limped to the kitchen for a glass of water.
She followed that glass of water with another. And then that glass was followed by a third. The bathroom was next, and she slid carefully into the tub, wondering how long it would take her to drown if she merely fell asleep in the hot water. By the time she emerged, the sun had properly risen and the birds were even louder. Her sore muscles and blisters felt quite a bit better though her wrist looked even more swollen than before. She took the time to tightly bandage it before she brushed her teeth, combed out her hair, and changed into her yellow civilian’s clothes.
It was eight o’clock when she finally dressed for the day. She’d gotten, at best, about three hours of sleep.
Bed sounded lovely. So did breakfast, really, but that would have required actually making something so she resigned herself to some tea instead hoping that the caffeine would rouse her. Once she had a steaming cup of it in her hands, she took it to her desk and started rifling through papers.
Mid, the new engineer, had said quite a few funny things when she’d first found her way to the Rest. Celes hadn’t grasped most of it, but she’d still made a list of the most important. Once she’d found that list, she skimmed through it, hoping her guess had been right.
And there, right at the bottom of the page, she saw a word circled and underlined: Valisthea.
That was her world, apparently, and it was the same word the mad swordsman had used the night before. Scanning the list properly, she caught another familiar name. Clive. Otherwise known as Cid. Otherwise known as Wyvern. Otherwise known as Lord Underhill. Otherwise known as Ifrit for some reason. Next to that, she’d written a simple, one word description: ’Stupid.
That tracked.
If this was the same man as she suspected, the nickname Ifrit would certainly make more sense. The man had wielded fire magic like an esper. Or maybe a half esper. Did they have espers in Valisthea? If so, Celes would have suspected Ifrit to be his father. The man’s weird magical form had reminded him of Terra’s trance, after all.
Gods, she was tired.
Celes took a deep, long sip of her tea before she stood and made her way upstairs to the room that Mid had claimed as her own.
So far, Mid had only been staying with them for a few days, other than demanding help from her men along with strangely specific supplies and directions to the local blacksmith, she’d largely kept to herself. Celes hadn’t seen what the engineer had made of her new room simply because she hadn’t had a reason to. This seemed like a good reason.
”Mid?” she called through the door, knocking twice with her good hand. ”Are you in there?”
Post by Midadol Telamon on Aug 2, 2023 15:01:36 GMT -6
"Still busy savin' the world, then?"
Engineering Prodigy
The knock at the door was both a surprise, and yet somehow, not unexpected. Mid had assumed that it would be coming, and she was already confident that she could explain away the incident. Someone must have ratted her out. Probably one of the people in the training yard. It hadn't been her fault. And besides, it was only one target and it wasn't like they were using it. Maybe Celes counted them every night. She seemed like the type.
Mid opened the door, peering out with just her face, keeping her room mostly obscured for the moment. "Okay, I know what you're gonna say, an' I jus' want it on the record, I din't know that lubricant was that flammable. Ain't like that in my world. An,' okay, so I kinda set fire to that target dummy an' blew it to kingdom come, an' I understand 'ow that kinda looks bad, but that's what the dummy was for, right? I'll get it right next time. Got a whole bunch of new ideas," Mid assured Celes. "An' on the bright side, that fire suppressant gizmo I knocked up worked a right treat, since we din't all burn down or nowt," she added cheerfully.
And then she paused. And realised that wasn't why Celes was there.
"Uh, nevermind," she said quickly, as the door to her room swung open, revealing...
...actually, a surprisingly tidy room. At least at first glance. A slightly closer glance would reveal a rack of shelving holding various pieces and even the odd text book that Mid had already discovered. What was interesting was that the room hadn't come with said shelves. She had clearly hastily constructed them. On a small writing desk was a half built model of a ship, surrounded by tiny gears and cogs. A work in progress, yes, but Mid wasn't going to have some other engineers knowing how to build airships and leaving her to discover it, so she knew she had work to do.
"Uh, can I 'elp with anythin'?" she asked. Honestly, it was quite nice to see Celes. The two had gotten off on a friendly foot, and despite her age, she had always felt involved back in the Hideaway's running of things. So it was a nice idea to be equally involved with the Dragonblades, even if she knew she was the new girl...
[attr=class,bulk] Thankfully, it didn’t take long for Mid to respond, cracking open the door so that only her head peeked through. Which was…a little secretive, but Celes supposed that Mid had a right to her own privacy. She supposed that, at least, until Mid began to speak.
Celes opened her mouth. And then closed it. She stared, her eyebrows furrowing as she tried to comprehend the exact magnitude of what it was that Mid was implying.
”You…did what?”
This was supposed to be the easy part. This was supposed to be the easy part. Why wasn’t this the easy part?
”I…don’t even…” she started before she shook her head. ”Well, as long as the training yard didn’t burn down, we can talk about that later.” She was too tired for this. It looked like she’d need to add “setting ground rules with Mid” to her to-do list. Once she’d had a nap. And eaten. And then fallen back asleep for three days straight. She didn’t think she needed to tell her newly hired engineer not to experiment with burning training dummies using mysterious fuel she’d found in Caius’ workshop, but it looked like she did.
In three days, she would.
Apparently that little incident was the only reason for Mid’s want of privacy because she opened the door after that. Celes half expected to find the burnt dummy inside, but instead she discovered that Mid had apparently been busy with more than “fire suppressant gizmos” in the few days since she’d arrived. There was an entire shelf that Celes knew hadn’t been there before, already half filled with books and scrap metal and all sorts of other things that Celes couldn’t identify. On the desk was what looked to be a half-finished model of an airship. She’d have to ask about that later.
Mid gave her a bright look and asked if she could help with anything. Celes felt the sudden and extreme urge to tell her that she could help by not burning down her base of operations, but that was only the sleep deprivation talking. Instead, she took a deep breath and said, ”I hope so.”
She really did.
”There was a disaster last night,” she went on. ”I was sent in to deal with an apparent sword-wielding maniac yelling gibberish about slaves and gods as he stormed the castle, assaulted the guards, and made his way to destroy the city’s Core Crystal. We fought, and he said some things that matched with your descriptions…”
He’d also said plenty of things that she might have left out. Then again, Celes only really remembered what she’d thought to write down.
”He’s from Valisthea. He said his name was Clive. He wielded fire magic. Does that sound right?”
Post by Midadol Telamon on Aug 3, 2023 15:36:14 GMT -6
"Still busy savin' the world, then?"
Engineering Prodigy
Okay, so judging by Celes's reaction, one important thing Mid had to learn about the Dragonblades was that she was no longer the precocious daughter of the former boss who had practically been raised by the people there, and therefore had a lot of leeway about what she could get away with. Apparently, less so here. She gave her best unphased smile to try and look like she wasn't too concerned. "'ey, well, on the bright side, I was gonna test it on, whatshername, y'know, who don't know how to button up shorts, but thought a dummy was safer. Turns out, that was a good call," she added, not actually having revealed what she had been trying to build or test. Which given it was not a weapon, nor was it supposed to have any fire involved, was probably for the best. "And it weren't meant to catch fire!" she added quickly, in case Celes thought she had been exceptionally reckless. Although on second thoughts, Mid wasn't sure if that was better or worse.
She noticed that Celes took in her handywork, but she didn't think much of it. At least everything in her room was fairly standard, by Mid's standards. Besides, what had she expected from an engineer?
However, as Celes began to describe the scenario she had faced the night before, Mid's expression began to slowly shift. Where Celes looked exhausted, tired and angry, Mid's expression became something of an excited smile, as she realised, even before she said the name exactly who Celes was describing. "Clive! Clive's 'ere!?" she asked, her tone excited, an actual smile on her face. "I'll say, that definitely sounds like 'im!" she enthused, before pausing. "'Ere, maybe you should add not to try an' smash your crystal to your pamphlet thingie, might come in 'andy if anyone else from my world shows up," she added after a moment.
"Wait. 'e fought you? You din't hurt him, did you? 'e's jus' confused, is all," Mid said quickly. "Honestly, we all thought he were dead. I can't believe he's alive! This is great news!" she beamed again, almost for a moment giving Celes an overjoyed hug, before thinking better of it. She didn't really like to show that much emotion, after all.
After a moment, though, she realised that her face was damp, and that she was actually crying. She sniffed, and quickly wiped a tear away, and turned away from Celes to try and look non-chalant. "Sorry, jus', means a lot to me, that big idiot," she explained after a moment. "After me Dad... died, well, it were Clive that carried on his legacy. An' he did a good job of it too. Losin' 'im', it were a bit like losin' me Dad all over again," she tried to tell Celes. And then she quickly wiped her tears away with her arm and turned back to face her.
"So, where is 'e then?" she asked, wondering a little why Celes was calling if Clive wasn't there. She was hoping that Celes hadn't badly hurt him. Or worse. Celes seemed like the type to handle herself, but she couldn't see her being able to take Clive in a fight. On the bright side, she doubted he had turned into Ifrit. She suspected she'd have heard about that, even there, if that had happened...
[attr=class,bulk] Celes knew she’d found a match before she’d even finished talking.
As soon as she told Mid about a maniac shouting about slaves and gods trying to shatter a core crystal for no discernible reason, Mid lit up, practically buzzing with her own excitement. Apparently this was common behavior. Known behavior, even, that “definitely sounded like him.” Mid even suggested adding the advice of not smashing crystals to their official pamphlets which…was a rather bizarre take, but she noted it all the same.
Were all the people of Valisthea like this? Celes felt a slow dread creep over her at the thought of dealing with another Clive.
”I didn’t hurt him terribly,” Celes reassured her. In fact, she wasn’t quite sure that her spell had done much of anything at all to the man except momentarily inconvenience him. His strange fiery form had melted her magic in seconds. ”He wanted to hurt me quite badly at first, but he only managed a sprained wrist.” She gestured at her bandages. Thankfully, this was not her first sprain. Not in the slightest, and she knew how to give it the support it needed.
Mid’s concern was, well, there was no other word for it but heartwarming. And as the girl’s bright eyes welled with tears which fell without her even seeming to notice, Celes felt a sudden guilt at her insistence that the man be imprisoned. Yes, he’d been confused. If the state had truly tried to go forth with an execution as the man had suggested himself, she would have vehemently opposed it, but it was clear to her the swordsman was dangerous. It was just as clear that the king had shown a callous disregard for the lives of his own men.
If the king hadn’t appeared…If it had only been the two of them up in that crystal tower…
Celes could imagine herself spiriting him away back to the Rest. She would have more or less kept him under the same sort of house arrest she’d demanded anyway, but it would have been a lot less messy than the official situation. She hated acting within the bureaucracy.
Mid turned away, wiping her eyes as though there were any chance that Celes hadn’t noticed. Apparently, she’d thought Clive to be dead. Given what she knew of Zephon, he very well might have been, but that was a lesson for another time. More pressingly, Mid had turned back to her, her eyes as bright as the sun as she asked where he was.
Oh dear…
”Well, he’s…” She hesitated. How best to say this? ”He’s…currently in prison.”
Best to rip off the worst of it quickly, she supposed.
”But only temporarily! It was clear that Torensten’s forces wouldn’t be able to control him so the Dragonblades will be taking custody of him until his trial. Which I suspect will go quite well. Torensten is extremely generous to its off-world population.”Too generous as she’d seen the night before. Suspiciously generous. It was the kind of generosity that expected a few favors in return. She made a mental note to add that to her list of lessons for the two of them in the future.
”I’ll be leaving to pick him up soon so that he can be brought here. I was hoping you’d come with me to confirm he is who we suspect.”
Post by Midadol Telamon on Aug 5, 2023 15:30:34 GMT -6
"Still busy savin' the world, then?"
Engineering Prodigy
Despite Celes's reassurances that she hadn't hurt Clive, Mid would have been a fool to not notice the creeping dread on her face when she mentioned about putting the information on crystals in her pamphlet. Obviously, she feared a repeat. Mid realised that she hadn't really told Celes much about Valisthea. It hadn't seemed necessary. Except, now, it did. Maybe. Maybe Clive had filled her in. Either way, it couldn't hurt to add a little context, right. "Look, it's not 'is fault, right? Not really. Back on me own world, we 'ad these things. Called 'em Mothercrystals. They'd been 'round as long as any human could remember, an' they gave us access to crystals, that let us perform all kinds of magic. Magic that were pretty important to most people's lives, right? Except, we also had this blight. Everything was dyin'. The land, the plants, the animals. Just like life was bein' sucked outta the earth itself. Anyway, it was me Dad who figured it out. The Mothercrystals were suckin' up all the ether from the land. The more magic we got from 'em, the more our world were dyin'. So it was 'is plan to destroy 'em. 'E knew people would 'ate us for it, takin' away all their modern conveniences and that, but it were the only way to save our world," she explained. "Guessin' Clive gettin' here, without that 'andy pamphlet of yours or anybody to make sure his head was on straight, saw the crystal, an' thought it were more of the same. He probably thought he was 'elping. And since everybody tries to talk 'im out of it anyway, an' we're pretty used to people thinkin' we're doin' a bad thing smashin' 'em, I'm guessin' he weren't exactly gonna be easy to convince it weren't the case 'ere," Mid finished.
"Well, uh, I'm sorry 'e tried to hurt you 'n all. Like I said, 'e probably is pretty confused right now," Mid tried to explain to Celes. "Glad to 'ear you din't 'urt him none either, though,. Don't tell 'im I said nowt, but I'm kinda attached to that big idiot," she smiled slightly.
"Prison?" Mid repeated when Celes dropped her bombshell. And then Mid did something Celes probably didn't expect.
She smiled. And she laughed.
"Is that all? I thought it were somethin' serious, your face an' all," Mid smiled. "I 'ad a gil for every time Clive got thrown in jail, I'd 'ave.... well, about five gil. Which ain't much, I know, but, it's more than you 'spect," she remarked with a smirk. "One a' the first times me Dad met Clive, 'pparently, 'e was naked an' in a jail cell. Din't never tell me that whole tale properly, mind. Only 'eard bits an' pieces. A story starts wit' your Dad meetin' 'is best pal naked in a jail cell an' you don't tend to wanna hear the rest," Mid smirked playfully.
"So, what you're sayin' is Clive is joinin' the band?" Mid asked, trying not to sound as excited as she was. "That'll be great, that will be. Need someone like Clive to get me some proper bits n' bobs. What that Caius has got on 'is workbench ain't 'alf bad, but I ain't exactly gonna be buildin' us a workin' airship with it any time soon," she explained.
"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Mid confirmed excitedly. "I can't wait to see 'is face when he sees me bailin' 'im out of jail," she grinned, getting ready to follow Celes immediately.
[attr=class,bulk] Mid did not react as Celes had expected.
Personally, if Celes had been told that one of her old friends was currently in prison for storming a castle, she would have been at least a tad concerned. Or frustrated. Or quite angry, actually, depending on the person in question. Mid’s enthusiasm didn’t waver for a minute, however, as she launched into an explanation that was as long as it was confusing and strangely familiar.
Celes was disappointed to realize that between Mid and Clive, she was beginning to understand the basic concepts of Valisthea without much difficulty. Mid’s explanation made far more sense than it should have.
If Celes could agree with anything the young engineer had said, it was that Clive did in fact appear to be both quite big and quite the idiot.
She didn’t know what to make of the ensuing story about Mid’s father meeting Clive naked in jail. She really didn’t.
Then, finally, the conversation turned to the matter at hand and Celes had the opportunity to answer questions again. Which was quite the relief considering the alternative of continuing to imagine that jail cell interaction any further.
”He’s not joining the band,” Celes corrected. ”We’ll be taking him into our custody. Think a kind of…house arrest. He’ll need to stay here or be under some kind of Dragonblades supervision. At least until the trial.”
Moreso, it was an opportunity to keep an eye on the dangerous and impulsive swordsman so that he didn’t take out his misdirected rage on anything else that confused him. Celes had the impression that Clive was one to be easily confused.
Thankfully, Mid was not only amenable to helping to collect Clive, but actively excited at the prospect. Celes couldn’t help a laugh at the look on her face.
This must have truly been a common occurrence indeed. Celes wondered briefly what she’d gotten herself into.
”Well, let’s get going then. I did promise that I’d pick him up in the morning.” She glanced past Mid to the window outside. Based on the sunlight, it was indeed a respectable hour of the morning, and she could only guess that the jail was open for visitors by now. She just hoped the guards had been informed that she’d be coming.
Celes’ legs ached as she made her way down the stairs and out the door again. She was distinctly aware of the dark circles under her eyes and of her damp hair, still dripping in places. She must have looked like a mess. However she looked, it was far less terrible than she felt.
”It isn’t too far from here,” Celes said. ”We can take the air tram. I’ll show you the city as we go.”
Post by Midadol Telamon on Aug 6, 2023 12:02:55 GMT -6
"Still busy savin' the world, then?"
Engineering Prodigy
Mid was a little disappointed that Clive wasn't becoming an official Dragonblade member, but, truthfully, she wasn't sure she really saw the difference. Either way, it sounded like Clive would be working with them. Sure, so this way, he needed a little more supervision. But that was probably for the best. It was a whole new world, and Celes hadn't mentioned Torgul, so they couldn't rely on his dog to pull him out of any mess he got into. Clive might like to run off on his own, but Mid always felt better when there was somebody watching him.
"So, what you're sayin' is, I can ask 'im to get me all the awkward stuff I wouldn't normally ask for, an' not have to feel guilty 'bout it 'cause it's meant to be a punishment?" Mid asked with her usual enthusiasm.
It seemed either way that Celes wanted to go, and Mid was ready. "Alright, no time like the present. Let's get goin'!" she said excitedly, following Celes out of the room. "Wait, did you say 'air tram'?" she asked after a moment as she followed her.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The duo were approaching the jail, not that Mid seemed to notice, as she hadn't stopped talking since they left the air tram. "...not my fault I din't think about buoyancy. See, to achieve that kind of lift, you need a gas that's lighter than air. A lot lighter than air. We're talkin' at least 0.064 lb/ft cubed of lifting power, an' you can't jus' find that anywhere, right? We din't 'ave that in my world. The thing is, it's gotta operate with a positive buoyancy for you to get lift, but even if you 'ad the right gas, you can't jus' 'av your super light gas and, bang, there's your airship, right? 'cause, 'ow else would you get down? You'd jus' be stuck floatin' around up there like a big balloon. So, instead, you gotta 'ave a way of controllin' air pressure. The pilot would 'ave to increase the air pressure to the blimp so that it matches the gas, makin' it a neutral level of buoyancy so you stop from goin' up. An' to get down, you'd 'ave to make it negative. So I reckon, way it's workin', it's probably usin' fore and aft ballonets, right? So you can move the gas from one t'other an' doin' so makes the air pressure greater than what's in the blimp. 'course, even once you got that, you still need an engine powerful enough to drive the thing. Which is where you could use my mythril engine design. Reckon it's similar to what that air taxi thing 'ad anyway. Should give enough of a kick to get the thing movin'. 'course, then you gotta factor in the weight. Definitely need a closer look at the materials they used. Mythril is pretty light, but still a lotta metal, an' you gotta factor in for the size o' the blimp. Make it too big, an' you got yourself a great big vulnerable area, right? I mean, what if it bursts? So, I was thinkin', it must work in compartments, so even if one bursts, the res' stay full o' gas, like the emergency compartments on a ship. Only, if you 'ave more compartments, you gotta have a more complicated method of movin' the gas between the the ballonets, as you'd 'ave to 'ave one for each compartment, surely, an-"
"Oh, 'ey, we're 'ere," she remarked, realising that they'd arrived at the jail. "Hafta finish me thoughts on the whole thing later," she admitted. "Wonder if they'll lemme get a closer look at it on the way back?" she asked wistfully. "Kinda feels like cheatin', ta be honest, but, it's like me Dad always said. Never look a gift chocobo in the mouth..." she went on. "S'long as that gift chocobo was usin' it's own ingenuity, o' course, and not stolen magic..." she added.
She paused, hands on hips, taking in the jail. "So, this the jail, eh?" she said. "You jus' walk in an' ask 'em to let 'im go? Wow. City must think highly of you. Definitely used to do more beggin' and scrapin' on my end," she admitted.
[attr=class,bulk] Celes didn’t realize her mistake until they came to the tram service station and the young engineer’s eyes went wide and she began to talk.
And talk. And talk.
To Celes, who had been accustomed to the Empire’s magitechnology long before she’d found her way to a city reliant on it, the tram was nothing more than a convenient public transportation option. It was certainly impressive how Torensten relied so heavily on its airship fleet given the general scarcity of them in her previous life, but it was nothing of particular note. To Mid, however, it seemed absolutely life changing.
Celes had no idea what Mid was talking about. She’d never thought to question the mechanics of airship technology just as she’d never thought to question the very air she breathed. Perhaps Setzer would have been able to engage the woman in a rousing conversation that would put any unlucky bystanders to sleep, but Celes was not Setzer, and her knowledge on the subject was limited only to her experiences in listening to the pilot’s cursing from the engine room as he tuned up the Blackjack.
This was all to say that while Mid spoke, Celes could do nothing more than hum on occasion to show that she was listening. This, apparently, was quite enough for Mid.
The one-sided conversation went on after they’d landed, distracting Mid so much that Celes had to pull her out of the way of an incoming chocobo cart not once but twice. The engineer hardly seemed to notice and just kept on with her theories, talking about things like buoyancy and ballonets and the density of gasses and Celes gave up on even pretending to listen as she tried her absolute hardest to guide Mid to the local jail without anyone getting hurt. When they finally arrived, it seemed to come as a surprise for Mid as though she’d entirely forgotten why they were here in the first place.
By the time that Mid fully turned her attention to the task at hand, Celes was so tuned out that it took her nearly half a minute to respond.
”Hm? Oh, well, usually freeing him would be quite difficult, but seeing as I made an arrangement with the king himself…” She waved a hand dismissively as though she could somehow dismiss her very association with that corrupt and distasteful man. ”We shouldn’t have any problems.”
And in fact she didn’t. She merely stated her full name, her visitor’s name who she identified somewhat facetiously as another member of the Dragonblades who she’d brought along for security reasons, and then signed a few papers at the guard station. The jail was a dismal place, naturally, but not nearly the worst she’d seen. The prisons of Vector had been far more dungeon-like than this place of stone and crystal-fed lantern light. It was rather clean, at least, and entirely without means of torture which meant it rated rather highly in Celes’ books.
A prison guard led them down the stairs and past several cells, telling them that he’d unlock the cell door and release Clive into their custody once they’d verified his identity. Their footsteps and voices echoed down the hallway until, finally, the guard slowed to a stop in front of them indicating the correct cell.
”Clive?” Celes called. ”It’s me and that friend that I mentioned. We’re here to take you back to our headquarters.”
Post by Clive Rosfield on Aug 8, 2023 11:46:50 GMT -6
THE OUTLAW
It was the best sleep he’d had in years.
Which might come as a shock to you, considering he was spending this night in a dry and old cell with a raised cot instead of a proper bed. But Clive didn’t care. He hadn’t slept since the morning he had left the Hideaway to take on Ultima for the last time. Something that they had all correctly guessed would be a suicide mission — considering everyone involved had seemingly died. He’d lost so much in such a short period of time, and then in the end, was painfully subjected to the very Curse that being this “Mythos” had kept him from for so long.
Awoke in a faraway land, alive but strangely weakened, isolated and alone. Thought they had failed. Sought to make it right. Only to find out that it was in fact a different world, and he had caused harm to innocent people without meaning to. And almost destabilized an entire nation that did not, in fact, have a mothercrystal that was causing everyone misery and threatening their very world. Now he was in a jail cell of his own volition.
Their best, apparently. Hremit had given some leniency but the Council was less forgiving. Not that Clive blamed them -- while the honorary "King" had overheard some of his story and seemed to have a kindrance with offworlders, to the others on Torensten's ruling council he was just some maniac who waltzed in, assaulted their people and tried to destroy their very way of life. Though wouldn't Hremit be more of a duke, with how things were arranged? Torensten appeared to be akin to a duchy, but their ruler was a king. Maybe he just didn't understand Torensten's history and politics enough, but finding out wasn't really on his priority list at the moment. Those things were more for Viv, Tomes or Joshua to enjoy.
Either way, by "their best", I mean Clive had been placed in a solitary cell, away from any other prisoners. Clive had noted as well, that either he was extremely tired or it was made of a material that he didn’t recognize. Perhaps out of tired, morbid curiosity as he wittled away the time between sleep periods, he had decided to fire a bit of magic at the wall. But it fizzled out on contact like nothing. What the hell had Torensten been threatened by in the past to make these kinds of cells necessary? Lady Chere had mentioned something of the kind, but he hadn't cared enough at the time to give it much thought.
He had heard the jeering of the other prisoners as he was hauled past them too. A monster, they called him. Sure, they had robbed, assaulted, murdered, all the fun stuff. But trying to take out the crystal? Destroying thousands of years of heritage and making things harder for thousands of people? Compared to him, apparently most of the prison had standards. Not all of them though. Some laughed and mocked him for not finishing the job. But the general consensus seemed to be that he was some kind of maniac, an animal that should be put down.
Speaking of animals, he could almost swear he’d heard one bashing into the bars of a cage, scratching and clawing for about an hour somewhere deeper into the prison before eventually fading into whines and cries that too eventually died out. Clive couldn’t help but feel for the creature, whatever it was. It sounded upset, and not even in a vicious beast kind of way. Had that maybe been the monster from earlier? Why had they captured it? And why did it sound almost familiar? An impulsive thought told him to find a way out of here to find out, and save the creature. But what little common sense was left in his tired brain bade him to not do that.
In the end, Clive found himself falling sound asleep. To be frank, he was exhausted. The conditions and cot didn’t matter to him. He had slept in far worse conditions many times. The dangerous prisoners, who if they got out would probably kill him? Nothing new. People went mad all the time in the hole that the Imperials had thrown their Bearer slave soldiers into between assignments. Many of them tried to kill their “comrades” in turn. This was nothing. At this point, a prison cell felt like a warm hug. Almost.
And he was just so tired. He had used all his power and energy against Ultima, then in using Ultima’s power. Then got a second wind and went for this crystal, only to get in a fight with a possible Dominant of Ice…
He had put up a brave face, but by the time he reached his cell, Clive had nothing left. He had woken up a few times throughout the night, usually preceded by horrible nightmares of that disastrous encounter with Ultima. Or dreams that Ultima was coming to this very cell, still alive, intending once more to meld with him where Joshua was no longer there to save him. But eventually he fell asleep nonetheless, though not without oodles of anxiety and trying to find ways to pass the time until he slept again. Exhaustion however, trumpt all in the end. Brave face or not, it had taken everything he had to keep Lady Chere at bay. She’d scored a serious hit too, and Clive had already been incredibly worn down by the fight with Ultima.
If she’d hit him with that attack again, he’d probably be down here in a box instead of in a cell. Kind of like Benesomething, whom Kupka had been yammering something pertaining to her head and a box. Clive hadn’t really been listening.
Eventually, he found an empty slumber, devoid of pain, as not even his mind could function well enough to conjure the nightmares that haunted him. His final nightmare was the words Lady Charon had spoken to him, only a few months before. Even if those few months now felt like a lifetime, he could never forget.
"I remember it like it were yesterday. We were all waiting to treat Cid to a hero's welcome... When Kupka's lot turned up. Not that we knew it was them. They just poured in like a plague of rats, cutting down anyone and anything that stood in their way... Blood and bodies everywhere, there was... And a voice crying out for Cid to save us in the midst of it all... I'll never forget those cries... Try as I might..."
"You're our leader now, Clive."
"Promise me you won't let anything like that happen again. Promise me that come what may... Cid will save us."
A promise made, one that even though he had been miraculously saved from the Curse one last time... He could no longer fulfill. To live without his mission, without the people he loved and cherished, without being able to fulfill the promises he'd made until his dying day...
He would rather have died to the Curse than this.
But fatigue took him eventually. And Clive would still be asleep by the time Lady Chere arrived, with a familiar face in tow. The first voice -near- him in what felt like an eternity of horrible solitude jolted him awake instantly. Horribly and violently, as the swordsman's eyes shot wide open, bloodshot and frenzied as he swung a kick at the bars with a panicked cry. As much as one jokes it was "the best sleep he'd had in years", however, the black and blue sag under his eyes indicated he'd actually hardly slept much at all, despite his concerning levels of exhaustion.
Ultima had come again. Each nightmare had seemed more lucid and real than the last until Clive could never be sure anymore if Ultima had truly come for him or not. But after a few tense moments, he realized there was no Ultima. Just Lady Chere, whom had said something about...
Right. The memories of the past day began to flood back to him. Clive slid down to sit against the cot, heaving a long sigh as he looked up at the woman whom he probably had not helped his case with either.
"... Apologies. Rough night."
No apology was going to be enough for what he had caused this woman and others, so even to Clive it felt hollow as it left his lips. But it was the best he could manage at the moment.
Hold on...
As his brain started to regain function, she'd said something about a friend? He hadn't believed her at the time, figured it was just something said to try and ensure his cooperation. Looney bin crystal-smasher and all that, of course she would. But she'd actually brought someone? His gaze moved from her to...
"Mid?"
There was no mistaking it, he'd seen that face in his nightmares almost as much as Ultima. His lighter nightmares when not tormenting him with Ultima's presence, were plagued by "Cloive, fetch me sumthin that'll probably leave ya half dead carryin' back so I can make ah fancy pantcy set 'ah cutlery!" so he knew Mid Telemon, daughter of Cid, when he saw her.
But how was she here? Sure, Celes had mentioned that she had been brought from her world as well, but Clive had never thought to ask her HOW she got here. He had apparently been spirited here when the Eikons had saved him, but... Mid?
"How did you get here? How long have you been here?"
