It seemed that Douken was chivalrous if nothing else. He offered to use potions rather than accept her magic, which was fine by her. Though Celes had more than enough magic to cover them both, she preferred to only use it on herself while the was still lost and alone in this place. She leaned against one of the still-standing trees and leaned her head back against hard bark. It scratched at her shoulders beneath her cape, but she kept herself braced against it so that she could better examine her injuries. There were a few scratches at her shins where she had dashed through thorny underbrush. None of the blood on her hands was hers. When she touched her left arm, she couldn't help but recoil. Without treatment, it would take months for a bruise that deep to heal, but thankfully, she didn't have to worry about that. She brought curative magic to her hand in soothing waves. It entered her skin one layer at a time, reaching deep into aching muscle. Leaking veins were closed. Torn muscle was repaired. Celes closed her eyes as magic beat cold inside of her. For not the first time, she wondered what esper had given its life to enhance hers. She had no magicite.

As her wounds healed, Douken turned to address her. “You make it sound like magic is such a treat. In fact, where I come from, magic is so common that we have academies for upcoming Black Mages and White Mages to hone their art." Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. He went on further about battle mages (which were, for some reason, "red"). Apparently these "red" mages could use both magic and the sword, which seemed like common sense to her. He even considered her some kind of master in the art! A "sage," though she'd never heard the term used beyond old magi. It was all so ridiculous. Completely absurd. 

Too absurd.

Had she not been unnerved by this place from the very beginning? Only an hour ago, Celes had considered this forest impossible. Celes could tell herself that she had merely missed some part of the planet in her travels, but no. She had scoured every inch of the world in her search for allies, and she had never once seen a place with actual, living trees. It seemed that their mad god had taken extra care to destroy every last one of them. Grasslands had turned to cracked and bitter wastes. Plains were deserts. Even the sea had become so polluted by dark magic that nothing but monsters survived. Here there was grass, underbrush, and a canopy of leaves. Small animals skittered in the bushes. She still heard birds.

Then there was this man. Insane? Perhaps, but how could one be so insane as to never have heard of the Empire? His demeanor was not one of fear, either. This man did not act as one who struggled to survive. While his clothes might be the kind that only desperate survivors would take to, he didn't have the same look as the people she'd grown used to. He didn't wince at the mention of the Light of Judgment. His eyes didn't occasionally twitch upwards to the sky. There was no checking over paranoid shoulders and he didn't seem quite so tired as the survivors that she knew. No, this man acted like one who had somehow missed the end of the world. And then there was his familiarity with magic...

"I take it magic is a rarity where you are from? A more fearsome power than what I am used to?"

Well, there it was then. Somehow, impossibly, he had become familiar with magic. Somehow, he hadn't been touched by the worst events in the world's history. Perhaps...

Perhaps he was not the one who had gone insane.

Celes had gone quiet. She knew she had, but the possibility left her breathless. Had she not always worried? Had it not always been a possibility?

When she was young, she had asked about Kefka. He'd been known as eccentric, even then. Between his heavy make-up, eclectic fashion, and angered outbursts, Celes had learned very early on to avoid him. Still, at such a young age, she couldn't help but ask, "Why's he like that?"

Cid had told her, "Because he's like you." He'd sounded tired as he'd said it. Celes hadn't understood then that perhaps he felt some guilt for the changes he had brought in the mad general. She had been too preoccupied with his words to understand the meaning behind them.

"I am not like that," she'd protested.

He laughed a little and clarified, "I mean that he can use magic too."

"Oh," she said. "But I mean. Why does he act that way, Grandpa?"

"Because of the magic. The espers didn't mix right with his head."

Celes had thought about that for a long time. "Could they do that to me too?" she'd asked. Cid had laughed again, but there was something else in it this time. She hadn't been able to recognize it at the time, but he had sounded scared.

"Of course not. I promise nothing will ever happen to you."

That promise had been broken a long time ago. Celes laughed. It was a weak laugh that pushed a little into hysterics. 

"What is going on?" she asked. She touched her forehead as though it might prompt her to remember. "None of this makes sense..."

She had never had problems before. Hadn't the scientists watched her as though she might explode? Hadn't she received monthly evaluations and tests until even the Emperor himself was satisfied? Her magic had mixed flawlessly into her system. Kefka had failed because he had been given magic as an adult -- at the age of nineteen.

If had been over a year since the end of the world. She'd been eighteen then. Why couldn't she remember anything? Why was her head so clouded? Why...?

"Outside of this forest, is everything alive?" She didn't look at him. Her voice sounded wrong. "Are there people?"

He tried to joke with her. Given the situation, Celes didn't find it funny.

“Well, it would be hard to have a trade city if there was no one to trade with, now would there?”

Wrong, actually. The port city of Nikeah still operated as something of a trading center, even after most towns had fallen to ruin. Supplies still had to be transported and traded even after the end of society, after all. But that was neither here nor there. It wasn't the logistics of her delusions that Celes was most concerned about, and the joke seemed entirely ill-timed. She thought she might be sick.

“The people here are alive and without worry. I cannot say the same for you."

Why did the words pierce her like a knife? Delusion or not, is this not exactly what she had wanted? What everyone had dreamed of for over a year? This world, wherever she was, had never faced his wrath. The forests still grew. The water ran pure. The people were blissfully ignorant of what terrible destruction could befall them. Hadn't she wanted more than anything to go back? She would have taken the Empire without question over the hell her rebellion had caused. If only she hadn't spoken against the Emperor. If only she hadn't driven Kefka to the brink of suicide...

Perhaps her mind had created a place where that was true. This was what Celes had longed for. More than anything, she wanted a world at peace. But not like this.

“If it is too hard to talk about, I will not ask you any further, but what is your world like? Why is magic feared and you are worried about everyone being alive?”

She laughed again, disbelievingly this time. How was she to even begin explaining what was so basically understood? She could have started a thousand years ago with the War of the Magi. She could have explained how magic had nearly leveled the world, how the espers had locked themselves away for protection, and how the Empire had sought to use them to gain power. But it was the second part of his question that most unnerved her. Even now, it was completely unthinkable that someone might not have known -- that they didn't flinch in fear at his name. Even as the skies above her proved clear of his eye, she couldn't suppress the rising dread that it brought to mind.

"You're telling me that you've never heard of Ke-?" No. No, it was too much. With that name rose blinding light, the smell of burnt flesh, and a deep, hysterical laugh.

Celes winced. "He became a god," she said instead. "He killed the espers, absorbed all magic, and then-." The earth shook below her. Stone cracked, light faltered. Silence gave way to horrific rumbles as the ground itself crumbled. She took to the airship, but the forces were too strong. Wooden beams broke, and then there was screaming. The sky bled through with fire, and then she was falling. Falling into suffocating water. Falling and alone.

She sucked in air as though she were drowning. She gasped at it and grabbed at her spinning head. Her face felt hot -- her hands were shaking. She told herself not to think about such things, but she could still see them bright in the back of her mind. No one she knew would have faulted her for the panic she bit back now. Discussing that day among those who had survived it had become almost taboo. But this man was a stranger who knew nothing of the world's destruction. He would not understand. He would think her a weak, pitiable woman when she was nothing of the sort. No one was expected to deal with this kind of tragedy unmarked. It was the sign of greatest strength for one to simply move on.

Celes had already proven herself strong. She did need this pity -- not even in her own delusions. 

"I'm fine," she said. The words came out sharp -- almost accusing. She pushed away from the tree that had supported her and placed one hand on her sword. "I'm going to get out of this place. If you want to come, then fine -- you can lead the way. I'd like to go to this town you mentioned. It's no use staying here."

[[OOC: So, I think I gave Celes PTSD. I hope this is acceptable. I just kind of assume that anyone that survived that would probably have it. Oh well.]]