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Torensten had fallen into its usual late afternoon haze of heat and humidity when Celes finally finished her training with the mercenaries out back, did her usual daily check on Clive and Mid (eternal headaches as they were), double-checked on Yuffie to find her mysteriously and suspiciously missing (the sense of foreboding was nearly overwhelming), and then finally came to the couch in the lobby, intent to give her feet a rest, to find a gigantic, wolf-like dog already snoozing upon it. She watched in dismay as its mammoth weight caused the couch to sink, a long string of drool hanging from its parted lips and staining the cushions.

Celes hardly had time to process her rising temper before Tomoe, the receptionist, called out to her.

”Miss Celes? There’s a letter for you.”

”Oh. Good.”

It wasn’t good. All Celes wanted to do was rest, but as the co-leader of the Dragonblades and the only one currently available, reading letters was part of the job. She slid the envelope open with a swipe of her thumbnail and scanned it quickly.

And just like that, Celes Chere was presented with a mystery.

She left the most responsible person she could think of, Nerissa, in charge as she saddled up a chocobo the following morning. Her destination? Provo.

It seemed that there was news of her doppelganger. Again. And this time, the woman in question was in dire straits.

The kind that called for the head of the Dragonblades herself to investigate. If this was what she thought…If her suspicions were correct…

Well, then that would be a problem for everyone, wouldn’t it?

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Celes couldn’t in good faith call Provo pleasant this time of year. Born and raised in the iron and steel city of Vector, she wasn’t quite used to the rural atmosphere nor the oppressive heat, but she could say that it was a far cry better than the climate in Torensten. She could breathe at least without feeling like she was filling her lungs with sea water. Provo’s lesser humidity also did wonders for her hair which tended to frizz and tangle in Torensten’s almost swampy air.

It took her three days by chocobo to reach the kingdom of Provo, and then she skirted around the city altogether, heading instead for the location listed in her helpfully unhelpful excuse for a letter.

It was from a friend of Yuna’s, a potential Dragonblade if the swordsman ever got around to it. It started asking about Celes’ whereabouts and if she was still in Torensten like he’d heard. Because the other rumor this swordsman-in-training had heard was that she’d been taken captive by an unknown camp of bandits, last known coordinates included in the post script.

Given that the word “bandit” was a bit of an alarm bell at the Dragonblades HQ and that this was the second mention of a mysterious woman who looked quite like her but clearly wasn’t, Celes thought it was only fitting that she see to the situation herself.

Chances were, some intrepid outlaws had spotted her mysterious lookalike, Maria, by mistake and unknowingly taken a helpless opera singer captive in her stead. What they planned to do with her, Celes couldn’t say. If she had to guess, the Original Sin had placed quite the price on her head.

It didn’t take her long to find the encampment. Not with the letter’s directions, at least. Celes noted the marks in a makeshift path clearly made by chocobo cart and dismounted, resolving to go the rest of the way on foot. She wasn’t entirely certain how she would proceed. Stealth would be best, but she was hardly a ninja like Shadow nor a thief like Locke (not that she would ever call him such to his face). She was a soldier. And soldiers tended towards a loud and bombastic entrance.

If this was the Original Sin itself then she’d have to be careful. If it was an ordinary encampment of bandits then she’d likely scare them off after the dozenth man fell. If it was nothing more than a peaceful nomadic caravan…

She needed more information.

So she spent a little longer in the sweltering Provo heat, kneeling behind every bush she could find, inadvertently dragging her cape through burr-laden foliage that sometimes got tangled in her hair. She approached quietly (or as quietly as she could in her heeled boots), cursing the heat all the time as sweat stuck her bangs to her forehead and dripped in unpleasant streams down her neck. She cursed that she had to do this. That she couldn’t just charge in, sword drawn, magic at the ready in case she attacked an innocent band of traders or put the mysterious, look-alike hostage in danger.

For a moment, she wondered why she hadn’t brought Yuffie, a ninja, to do this kind of work for her. And then she remembered exactly why and her current circumstances felt just a little bit better for it.

Finally, she caught sight of them and miraculously they hadn’t caught sight of her. They were rather lacking in discipline that way, Celes thought as she eyed them from the edge of their clearing, noting their swords and battle axes and the sparkling hauls of jewelry and precious metals that they’d doubtlessly plundered from a trader somewhere. These were bandits, alright, and not particularly careful ones either. But she still couldn’t risk a head-on attack. Not until she located the hostage.

Thankfully, finding her wasn’t as difficult as she might have thought. She only had to follow the one man who, suspiciously, was completely unarmed except for a pail of water and an overlarge spoon. She watched him from the foliage, moving as quietly as she could through the underbrush and marveling at her target’s lack of caution. How else could she, a master of the sword and not exactly of stealth, manage to go unseen for so long? She even winced as twig after twig snapped beneath her boots, but thankfully, it must have blended into the overall forested ambiance because no one even looked up in search of her.

Hot, tired, sunburnt, and riddled with burrs that bunched against her cape and hair, Celes wasn’t exactly in the best of moods by the time she laid eyes on the poor, kidnapped woman who had been taken hostage in her stead. Celes didn’t know what these bandits were thinking, keeping the woman out in the open like this. It was a complete oversight in security, honestly, but maybe that wasn’t the point at all. As Celes watched the bandit pour a spoonful of water into the unlucky girl’s mouth, she couldn’t help but notice the welts where the girl’s hands had been tied behind her back with a thick knot of rope. The hostage was bound to a pole where there was no shade to protect her from the sun, and if Celes felt hot and sweaty beneath it then this girl must surely have been scorching under its rays.

Something much hotter welled within her as she watched this open display of cruelty. Were the bandits always so sadistic with their human cargo? Or was this a special punishment meant specifically for Celes instead? Either way, the sight of it filled her with fury that sparked the glacial magic within her until she could hardly contain it.

And so Celes waited for the water-bearer to walk a safe distance from his hostage before she stood from the foliage, clasped her hands together in a prayer, and began to recite her incantations. A chilled wind stirred at her feet as she gathered her magic, and then granted it a sharp release.

”Blizzaga!”

Icicles sprouted from the hostage-taker’s feet, engulfing him in glacial ice. There was a sharp crack and it shattered, piercing him through like spears of glass. Celes didn’t wait to watch the man’s brutal demise before she pulled her sword from its sheath and dashed from her hiding place straight towards the woman at the center of the clearing. There were other bandits about, she knew. Some even saw her, pointing and shouting while others would be lured by the sound of her magic. She ignored them all in favor of the hostage so that she had control of the situation.

Even if it meant placing herself in the middle of an ambush, she wouldn’t let this girl come to harm.

Celes had to admit that her so-called lookalike did, well, look quite a bit like her. She had pale blonde hair of approximately Celes’ length. They had the same general physique. She looked like they might be the same height, and apparently the girl even had a propensity for the color yellow.

Not that Celes was currently wearing her usual yellow jacket and pants. No, she’d donned her green leotard for this along with her pauldrons, cape, bracers, and grieves. She’d come ready for battle, not for a social hour, but still. The resemblance was a tad uncanny.

”I’ve come to help,” she told the girl hurriedly as she reached for the hostage’s bound hands. ”Hold still! I’ll cut you free.”

A sword wasn’t the best tool for precision cuts around the hands so she started, instead, by sawing her blade against the single length of rope which bound her to the pole. Her hands were still tied, but at least the girl could move. Celes didn’t have time for much more, anyway, as the bandits gathered, surrounding them both. Celes raised her sword towards the more intimidating half of them, keeping her back to the pole as though that were some kind of cover.

”Looking for me?” she called to them snidely. ”I am Celes Chere of the Dragonblades, and if you had any sense at all, you’d flee while you still can!”

[attr=class,ooc-notes]Oh boy. A long one. Sorry for the novel of text lol