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year 5, quarter 3
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Somewhere outside of Provo lay a cluster of farms plagued by roving bandits. Burned husks of barns and the offwhite skeletons of slain livestock jutting up from the earth marking the path of the bandits through the countryside like spreading necrosis. Their shakedowns came like clockwork, backed by cruel rotting smiles and the flash of daggers and swords. When the farmers offered only empty pockets they burned and they slaughtered and they stole enough to send their message and were off again.
Sabin didn't know any of this, because he didn't know where he was. He didn't know the name Provo, nor the plight of the farmers, nor the plague of the bandits. He knew that his head was foggy and he hadn't much in the way of supplies but a waterskin and a bedroll and the clothes on his back. He could've sworn he was doing something important... somewhere... but it hurt his head to try and recall it. He woke up in a ditch at the side of the road in the warmth of the day, dusted himself off, and started walking. He figured by the sun that it was near noon. The sky was a bright and vibrant blue spotted with wispy white clouds. He made his way along the packed dirt road and started whistling a tune whose origins he could not trace and a vague sense of the lyrics floated in and out of his mind.
So far away now... Something something smile...
Down the road some miles and hours he saw a farmer mending a fence, prying old boards from the weathered posts and hammering in new ones not yet dulled to that no color grey by weather and sun. Sabin raised his great paw of a hand in greeting and the farmer looked at him but made no other move nor sound.
"Hey!" Sabin called out, "Hello there!"
Sabin wandered closer to the fence, the dirt crunching softly under his shoes. He noticed the man tensing up and shuffling his feet the more Sabin closed the distance and he smiled brightly to try and put the man at ease. The farmer folded his hands atop one of the fenceposts, bottom hand loosely gripping the handle of a hammer. He looked thin and tired. Behind him, Sabin finally noticed the charred remains of a building. His smile faltered.
"Hey, what happened?"
-----
Three days later, Sabin sat crosslegged in the grass outside the farmhouse. A pack of wild children, the farmer's and the neighbor's, jumped on his back in a vain attempt to knock him over. He laughed a deep, hearty laugh that carried in the quiet of the day and he stood with the lot of them dangling from his arms and his neck. Two others each grabbed a leg, wrapping their arms around him like coiled snakes. He waded through the grass with them all, grinning. The children giggled and the sound of it brought to mind the shadow of a memory, the details just outside his recollection. The farmer and his wife watched from the porch, drinking strong coffee.
Down the path from the farmhouse to the road there sat a filthy bundle of bandits bound together by wrists and ankles with thick ropes. Their faces all some assortment of purple and blue, swelled and misshapen. Dark dried blood tracing a path from broken noses down to stains on their shirts. Sabin told them he did them a favor, teaching them a lesson like he did. Other people wouldn't go so easy on them. He couldn't be sure of that, truthfully, but it sounded right in the moment. He took all their weapons and piled them in a heap for the farmer, who said he would melt them down into something more useful. The same couldn't be said for the bandits, the farmer added, but they'd cross that bridge later.
One of the children scrambled up onto Sabin's shoulders, grabbing a handful of beard on the way.
"Easy, now!" he said.
From behind him he heard the farmer say: Who'ssat?
Sabin looked to the road and saw a figure in the distance coming upon the farm. He squinted. Familiarity struck him even at this distance but his brain felt muddy. She wasn't a bandit, that much he knew, but how he was so certain of it he couldn't say. He tilted his head like a dog hearing a strange noise. The child sitting on his shoulders laughed and rested on the top of his head.
"Hey!" he called out, waving as a kid dangled from his arm like a sloth.
Post by Celes Chere on May 16, 2020 9:42:35 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@sabin
Ugggggh. This is sweet
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
Sometimes she felt like she hardly had the chance to breathe.
Celes watched the fields pass by -- a sea of waving grass and wheat stalks. It smelled earthy and cool like leaves on a fall day. A tuft of grain fluttered across her bare arm, and she shivered. The life here gave her some comfort, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t out of place. The world she knew had been dry and barren. She felt almost like a stranger alone in this sea of normal life. She’d never really belonged there in the first place.
”This isn't about you,” she said, shaking her head. ”Just get the job done, and you can…”What? Find the next job? Go on another lonely ride through strange lands? Well she certainly couldn’t go back to Caius. Not now. Not after the masquerade.
What had there been between them? She’d felt it like a magnetic pull. His eyes on hers. That soft voice. His touch on her hand. She couldn’t stand it. Hadn’t she told him she didn’t want any of that? She bit her lip even now. Whatever had been there, it hadn’t been by choice. She didn’t love him. Not in the way she had Locke -- though that hadn’t turned out splendidly. Had he only ever wanted Celes to replace her? Rachel? He certainly hadn’t seemed happy to see her.
After all that time, after everything that had happened, no one had batted an eye when she’d walked through the door. ’Oh, I don’t think I can go. Would you mind solving my problems first?’ That wasn’t friendship -- not really. She’d accepted that now a world and a lifetime later. Caius was her friend. Caius would stay by her no matter what happened. Caius had-
Betrayed her, hadn’t he? Or her trust anyway. She’d told him not to look at her that way.
Her chocobo gave a soft trill, and she looked up to see that the grain was ending. At the field’s edge was a house. And at that house were people. She let out a sigh of relief. She hadn’t been too late then -- not to prevent another raid at least. There’d been reports of them here in the isolated farm houses just outside the village. If she’d found them held at gunpoint...If she’d found their blood on the ground…
But as they came into sharper focus, she couldn’t help but frown. There was the farmer and his wife. There were half a dozen laughing children. They were wrestling with someone -- a bear of a man that lifted them easily. And then down the lawn…
Wait, were those men tied up?
Celes pulled the chocobo to a stop, dumbstruck. There they were, just about four of them clad in leather armor. Their faces were misshapen and purple. They hung their heads in a kind of tired defeat. Still, the children played and the farmer sipped his mug. What had happened here? Were those the bandits? How had they-?
She dismounted her bird, grabbing it by the reins and leading it closer. Was this another trap? Like the one in the forest? She doubted it. These seemed like good people. Good people who had men trussed up by the road.
The farmer hadn’t done this. He didn’t have the training, and why would she have been called if he had? His wife looked just as vulnerable, and the kids...Well. They weren’t exactly Relm, were they? That left the human bear. He wrangled a child onto his shoulders and looked down the road towards her. His eyes knit with confusion before he raised a hand. Celes froze, staring at him.
Wait, was that-?
”Sabin?!”
For a moment, she could only stand there. Staring. Her mind churned faster than she could keep up with, and she caught only flashes of it.
Sabin was sitting there. Sabin Rene Figaro. He was-
”Sabin!” She was running without thinking, closing the distance in seconds. ”How are you-? Where did you-? You’re here!” She couldn’t keep her words straight. Not when she’d seen a familiar face. After all this time, she’d found someone. And that someone was…
”I thought I’d never see you again.” She sighed a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. ”How did you get here?”
The fog in his mind began to clear as though her presence was a breeze coming in off the water. Shards of memory coming into sharp focus. He straightened his head and the confusion gave way to a broad grin. Of course he knew her. They'd fought side by side in the frigid mountains, in the open sky on the deck of an airship, in a world gone to ruin. On either side of those fragments of memory lay dark patches but a light would shine on them soon enough, wouldn't it? He just needed to get his head all the way clear of whatever this was.
The children chattered quietly, watching Celes approach with wide, curious eyes: Is that a sword? Hey mister Sabin, how come you don't have a sword?
Before he could so much as open his mouth, Celes bombarded him with half-finished questions. The way she spoke it sounded like she hadn't seen him in ages. That didn't make any sense. It'd only been... He tried to think back to before he woke up on the side of the road but all it did was make his head hurt.
'I thought I'd never see you again', she said. That gave him pause. His brows furrowed. What the hell happened? He was starting to think his working theories of 'got hit on the head' and 'drank too much' didn't quite fit the situation anymore. He could only answer her query with what little he knew, but the most important part of the 'how' lay shrouded in mystery.
"I woke up in a ditch and followed the road until I met these nice people here. They offered me food if I helped them with a bit of bandit trouble."
One of the children dangling from his arms began to slip, and he paused a moment to gently set the boy on the ground.
"Hey, kiddos. This is my friend Celes! We fought monsters and bad guys together," he told the children. They made varying sounds of approval and admiration. 'I wanna fight monsters', one of them declared.
He looked back at Celes, still smiling brightly, but there was the faintest flaw in it.
"Sorry. My head's still pretty fuzzy. I don't really know what's happened. It's good to see a friendly face around here. But-- it hasn't been that long, has it?"
Post by Celes Chere on May 19, 2020 7:15:14 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@sabin
Having The Talk (TM)
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
Sabin blinked at her, almost confused. His brow furrowed. ”I woke up in a ditch and followed the road until I met these nice people here. They offered me food if I helped them with a bit of bandit trouble."
Now it was Celes’ turn to stare. ’I woke up in a ditch.’ What kind of answer was that? She laughed weakly. Well it had been a stupid question, wasn’t it? How are you here? As if anyone knew that, but still. If that was the first thing he commented on…
”You haven’t changed,” she said. Sabin had always been a simple man. The difference between him and Edgar was like night and day. She’d always wondered if they’d decided in the womb who would take the brains and who would take the brawn. They certainly hadn’t split either between them.
Celes smiled as Sabin introduced her. Sabin returned it with a smile so bright that she felt her own brighten beyond what she thought she could. Simple wasn’t a bad thing.
”No, I understand.” Of course she did. Didn’t her own head feel the same way? There was something she was forgetting. Something she couldn’t even begin to comprehend. After all this time, she’d simply learned to live with it. ”You don’t know what’s going on here, do you?”
She paused, thinking. Was he really lucky enough that he’d run into a familiar face the moment he’d been dragged here? That sounded like Sabin. If Edgar was to be believed, he was lucky in just about everything. Lucky enough to win a coin toss, at least.
”We should talk,” she said then knelt down across from him. She’d never liked having the ’Welcome to another world, I know it’s crazy but we can’t both be insane, can we?’ talk. She just wasn’t good at it -- not with her own doubts and not with her people skills -- but this was Sabin. He’d probably accept it easier than most.
”You didn’t just wake up in a ditch,” she said then paused. ”Well, I’m sure you did, but that’s not the point.” She hesitated then looked to the children. They were staring at her. ”Ah, would you mind? I want to talk to him alone.”
”What? But it was getting good!”
She felt herself flush before something clicked and she sat up straight, fixing them with a stern look. ”And I want to talk to him alone,” she said. ”So please. Some space.”
There was almost something instinctual in the way they scattered. She might not have had much experience with children, she knew exactly how to keep men in line. What was the difference, really?
”We’re not where you think we are.” She sighed. ”I know what it’s like, waking up confused and somewhere new. It was a forest for me.” She gave him a weak smile. ”I thought it was impossible. Given, well. You know. There weren’t any forests left after all.”
Just thinking about that world made her shudder. The cracked earth. The yellow water. The ruins of towns haunted only by monsters. She shoved it hard into the back of her mind. Not now.
”I used to think it was Kefka’s magic,” she said. ”I’m still not sure it isn’t, but I’ve stopped asking questions. I’m a lot happier here -- wherever it is. There’s life here. Nothing... happened.” She still couldn’t say it out loud. It was a relief to sit with someone who understood. He’d lived in that world longer than she had.
”I know it’s a lot to take in. There’s no Vector here, no Jidoor, no…” She hesitated. ”No Figaro.” She shook her head. ”I’m sorry.”
Sabin only grew more confused when Celes asked if he knew what was going on. Well, no. Truthfully he hadn't given it much thought, what with how foggy his brain felt. And after he found the farmer and the farmer asked for his help with the bandits, the necessity of the work took the foremost place in his mind. He could figure out where he was and what happened later, right? Something about her tone, about 'we should talk', made him apprehensive. Maybe he didn't want to know. There was a saying about ignorance...
After the children jogged back to the farmer and his wife, still watching the proceedings from the porch but probably making up their own dialogue, Sabin settled crosslegged in the grass to listen to Celes. He sat up so straight it seemed like he'd never learned how to slouch.
You can't fight if you can't breathe! his master said, smacking him in the back with a training stick for emphasis. And you can't breathe if you're hunched over! Open those lungs!
He listened attentively, a student of his new reality. Trying to parse Celes' explanation in a way that would sink in. This was not the old world. Not the destroyed world. He saw in his mind's eye the barren wastes and ruins over which Kefka ruled and his shoulders slumped. He frowned. No ruin, no death...
"...No Figaro," he repeated distantly, hunched with his elbows on his thighs. He watched the grass wave gently in the breeze under a bright, clear, blue sky. Birdsong in the distance. Smell of nature on the wind, of life.
Wasn't this place better? Celes said she was happier here. Yet it felt like someone had stolen a part of him. After everything that happened... Ruined or not, home was home. He stroked his beard absently, in the manner of a man older and wiser than he was. Finally he looked back up at Celes, posture straightening by degrees like someone was turning a crank.
"Is my brother here?" he asked, "Or... or Terra, or Locke? If we ended up here the others have to be around somewhere, right?"
It wasn't like they hadn't gone around collecting everyone before. Sabin found himself a fragment of hope and he held it tight to his chest.
Post by Celes Chere on May 24, 2020 8:33:19 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@sabin
N'awww
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
”...No Figaro.” Sabin visibly wilted, eyes hollow at the implications. No Figaro. No kingdom. No home. Celes had always guessed how much it had meant to him, but she’d never truly known. After he’d left it so eagerly (or so she’d heard), she’d sometimes wondered if there was anything darker in his parting. In hindsight, her doubts were ridiculous. She doubted that Sabin had ever felt bitter about anything in his life.
Sabin stroked the stubble of his beard. If Celes hadn’t known better, she would have thought him deep in a kind of scholar’s contemplation. She did know him better, however, and she knew that while he might have his own brand of wisdom, he wasn’t one to let things like philosophy weigh on his mind. In a way, she envied him.
”Is my brother here?” The question was as predictable as it was painful. She felt a sinking dread. ”Or...or Terra or Locke? If we ended up here, the others have to be around somewhere, right?”
She hesitated. How could she break it to him? She knew that Sabin wouldn’t blame her, but to see his despair…
No, he had a right to know. And she had a duty to tell him.
”No,” she said. ”I’ve been looking but…” But what? The answer felt wrong somehow. Had she forgotten something? ”I know others have found their friends. And if you’re here then…”
Then they couldn’t be alone.
Celes shifted her stance and sat up straight. Confident. She wasn’t good at comforting people -- she never had been -- but she could at least keep a strong face. Or as strong as she could manage.
Was she doing it right?
”Well. We’ve already gone looking for them before, and the world was a lot rougher then. How is this any different?” She tried for a smile. It’d been just the two of them, hadn’t it? Some part of her was glad that she’d run into Sabin first. He’d been the only one who’d seemed happy to see her. Everyone else had made her run their errands first.
”I’ve been searching, but you know how they can be under pressure. I half expect I’ve only missed Edgar because he’s dusted his hair and started calling himself Gerad again.” She rolled her eyes. ”And then he had the nerve to pretend we’d never met! It wasn’t even a good disguise!”
She smiled a little more genuinely now. The whole thing really had been ridiculous. Maybe she missed her old friends more than she’d thought.
”Why is it always me who has to wrangle everyone together?”
A part of him anticipated the answer before he even asked the question. If she'd already run into Edgar or Locke or Terra then why would she have been so shocked to see him? But he had to hear it out loud all the same. That made it real, and Sabin would rather wrestle with the real than the hypothetical.
Still, his face fell fractionally at her 'No' answer. The King of Figaro as yet unaccounted for in this new world. Sabin missed his brother dearly, in his heart the heavy ache of regret for the ten years they never had a chance to make up for yet. Yet. The operative word. As Celes continued she seemed to draw from the same well of resolve that Sabin did. There was a glint in his bright blue eyes, that spark of hope that carried him through a ruined world. Slowly, he straightened back up. When she mustered a smile, so did he.
They'd been down this road before in a harsher world with the threat of oblivion looming over their heads, with no guarantees that the people they sought had even survived the destruction. But here? Edgar could be in some nearby town, chatting up a blushing young woman in the local pub, and Locke was surely off exploring this new world for all the treasures it held, and maybe Terra found herself in a village protecting children just like the farmer's gaggle of them from roving bandits and monsters.
There was no reason to lose hope.
"I guess it's because you're the brains of this operation," Sabin said, tapping his temple. "If it were up to Edgar to round everyone up he'd get distracted by the first pretty girl who fell for his lines."
Sabin laughed, a deep, resounding belly laugh. It felt good, like a wave washing all the confusion and anxiety away. No matter how bad things got, if he could still laugh he'd be all right.
The path forward was clear to him now. They'd go searching for their friends again, they'd find them somewhere in this strange world, and they'd all figure out what to do after that together. Simple.
"It makes sense you haven't found them yet. The world's a big place - I'm guessing. But two sets of eyes are better than one, right? If we're both looking for them now we can cover more ground. They'll start turning up soon."
He spoke with such certainty it was like he could see the future. Well, there was no Blitz for clairvoyance, but Sabin knew the past, and that turned out all right, all things considered.
Post by Celes Chere on May 28, 2020 6:40:52 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@sabin
"I am definitely not a leader," she thought before asking him to join a group she leads.
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
Her optimism helped. After dropping just how alone they were, she wasn’t surprised that it had. It would have been a tough sell for anyone else, but Sabin was a simple man, and really it wasn’t a lie. They had done this before, and under much harsher circumstances. Still, she couldn’t help a tinge of unease as she spoke it. She knew, deep down, that it wasn’t to be. She’d been here for two years, after all. What were the chances she’d run into someone any time soon?
”I guess it’s because you’re the brains of this operation,” he said, and she laughed.
”Me?” She couldn’t help it. She was smiling. ”But I’m just…” Just herself. If she’d been told that fateful day of her defection that she’d someday be leading their ragtag little group of rebels, she wouldn’t have believed it. But who else had even tried to band them together? Edgar had been the core at the beginning. Edgar and Locke, and she supposed their ray of hope -- Terra. But Terra had never truly wanted the position, and the other two…
Well, they’d cracked under pressure, hadn’t they? When push came to shove, they forgot everything they’d been fighting for. There was only their own personal problems. Only Sabin had really tried to make the world a better place.
Her, the brains of the operation. She still couldn’t believe it.
”Two sets of eyes. You’re right.” She shook her head. No matter how slim the odds, it would feel better searching with Sabin at her side. With anyone, really, but Sabin in particular. She’d almost forgotten that she wanted to find anyone at all.
”I’ve joined up with a group of mercenaries,” she said. ”Well, I guess I helped start them if I’m being honest. We’re based out of a city on the other side of the basin. It’s not far.” She paused. ”Would you join us? It would mean fighting together and taking on bandits like those.” She gestured towards the men still tied together, too broken and bruised to so much as squirm.
”We travel all over, helping people. It would mean seeing the world. That’s probably a better way to look around than just wandering around with our eyes closed.” She smiled bitterly. ”It’s less depressing too.”
Sabin's first encounter with the world of mercenaries had been Shadow. The impression the ninja left on him meant Celes declaring that she'd not only joined up with a mercenary group but helped start one drew a slightly befuddled expression out of him. The pieces didn't fit. But as he followed her gesture and looked at his handiwork tied up by the road and listened to her talk about how they traveled around helping people, Sabin supposed Shadow wasn't the be-all end-all of mercenaries.
He thought about it a moment, scratching his beard, then he shrugged his broad shoulders.
"Well, I've been a prince, martial artist, a freedom fighter - why not mercenary? I'll try anything once."
It wasn't like he had much of a plan otherwise. Roam around and help people along the way, like he did in their home world, like he did when he woke up here. More people and more resources meant there was a better chance of tracking down his brother or any of the others, who Sabin remained certain were somewhere in the world just waiting to be found. Whether it took a week, a month, a year was immaterial. He'd look until there was nobody left to look for.
"So what do I need to know to be a mercenary?" Sabin asked, slapping his palms down on his thighs like an eager student, "There a lot of 'em in this group? If you helped start it, does that make you the leader? If I have to salute anybody I can't promise I'll remember to."
He spoke with an almost childlike enthusiasm. Questions coming rapidfire with an insatiable curiosity. A twinkle in his bright blue eyes saying he was having a bit of fun with it. Their shared past put them on a knife edge, where too much reminiscing dragged them down into dark waters. They'd both had enough darkness, Sabin decided, so from here on it was full steam ahead into the light.
Post by Celes Chere on Jun 3, 2020 11:11:31 GMT -6
[attr="class","oneword1"]
[attr="class","fromyou1"]@sabin
Let's goooo
Use your own eyes, and see for yourself which side I'm on.
Sabin shrugged. "Well, I've been a prince, martial artist, a freedom fighter - why not a mercenary? I'll try anything once.”
Celes laughed. He had been all of those things, hadn’t he? It sounded ridiculous said aloud like that, but it was true. A prince, a martial artist, a freedom fighter. None of them seemed to lead to the other, but she supposed that was just Sabin. He wasn’t someone who likes to set roots. They’d never been close, exactly, but she knew that much about him at least.
”I think you’ll like it,” she said. ”I think I do.”
Why else would she have organized it in the first place? Lost in this place, her options were “get paid to fight things on my terms” or “get paid to fight things on someone else’s.” She could do without the latter, thank you.
Sabin sat up, slapping his hands on his thighs as he looked to her like a student to a teacher. ”So what do I need to know to be a mercenary? There a lot of 'em in this group? If you helped start it, does that make you the leader? If I have to salute anybody I can't promise I'll remember to.”
”Huh?” Celes blinked at him and his barrage of questions. Mercenaries, leadership, numbers. It wasn’t much, but the sheer speed of it took her off guard. She paused, thinking, before she laughed.
”You don’t salute anyone,” she said. ”This isn’t the military. I’d know.” She straightened, eyes teasing. She’d had exactly as many salutes as she could use in a lifetime. Military life hadn’t agreed with her in the end.
”Basically, we do work for money. Which is what I was doing before starting all of this anyway. Clients put in requests, I review them, and if they seem like something we’d be interested in, and I assign it to whoever seems best for the situation. And it has to pass my entire review. We’re only interested in helping people.”
She paused. It was charitable when she put it like that. Not so different from the life they’d left behind. ”It gives people somewhere to ask for help,” she said. ”If they need it.”
In that way, they weren’t really much of mercenaries at all. Well, they were in the definitional sense, but not in the average idea of it anyway. Celes only sent out what she thought was best. She hoped her heart was good enough to decide what that was.
”I’m the co-leader actually,” she said, settling her hands into her lap. ”I founded it with someone else. He’s...well-meaning. And determined. And stubborn.” She sighed. ”He’s...good. As a person, I mean. He’s always helping people.”
And so he was. More than she did at any rate. It seemed he was always traveling the country, fight off monsters, running into new people and getting them on their feet. Meanwhile, what did she do? Man the fort, usually. Which was important in its own right, but still…
She could never compete with the sheer force of will that was Caius.
”Well. I’ll probably take these bandits and get back. I came here to take care of them, but it looks like you beat me to it.” She smiled slightly before getting to her feet. ”You can come along, if you’d like. I could use an extra set of hands if I’m going to bring these guys all the way to the city.”
