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!
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Kuja, stop creeping on girls and calling them birds. xD
Why should the world exist without me?
The woman blinked blankly in the firelight, hands trembling, cheeks colorless. She seemed disoriented from her loosened hair to her dull frown. She slowly disentangled herself from the grasp of a half-rotten door. ”If I managed to disrupt your research, I am sorry.” The words came slowly, as though she struggled to give them meaning. Kuja gave her his most patient smile to shroud the annoyance which pricked at his soul. Fear was a powerful agent on the mind -- and yet, such weakness sent the tips of his nails clenching into his palms. Such weakness had no place but to be abused.
The woman combed soothingly at her hair without looking at him. Her fingers ran through auburn tangles, steadying themselves in grasping strands. She sent her hand through them once, twice, three times before she slowly lifted her head. First, she found the flames, flickering brightly at his fingertips. Then she looked beyond them and froze. Her eyes widened.
Here was a look Kuja had seen countless times. Shock, breathless awe, and the slight hesitation of an unspeakable scandal. Kuja knew what he looked like. To some, he was like a preening peacock -- beautiful, but ridiculous and ultimately harmless. But to others, his beauty caught a different kind of silence. He was used to the way eyes would trail from his flawless face, to sultry lips, then down across the smooth angles of hips lined in gold and purple suede. Kuja had once tried to hide his beauty and play pretend at humanity, but it had never worked. Now, he embraced it and all the advantages it might bring. The woman met his eyes and Kuja looked back into wavering blue. Then she frowned, eyebrows furrowing in some kind of quiet frustration.
Did she know him? But no, the look was gone in an instant, and they were back to the usual formalities.
"Sarah." Her voice came like a whisper flickering on the wind. "I hail from Cornelia.” Fear fluttered through her like the wings of a hummingbird. Yes, if Kuja had to compare her to anything, it would be a hummingbird. Trembling and helpless even as she flew. Her cloak fell about her like glistening wings.
"Cornelia? I've never heard of such a place, but then, none here know of my kingdom either." A mild lie, but it would have to do. In truth, he had no kingdom and none would accept him after the destruction he'd wrought, but this woman didn't need to know that, and it was hardly the time nor place for story-telling.
The woman stiffened at his mention of magic. Was it a forbidden art in this Cornelia of hers? But it seemed she had no room to complain. She crouched to an extinguished candle left useless on the cracked stone floor and took it in trembling fingers. When she rose, her initial unease was gone from her expression. She held the candle out helpfully. "Why, yes. I ask for your aid, sir." She spoke in such polite mannerisms, that Kuja could only assume that she'd sprung from nobility. Though she closed the distance between them, she kept a respectful space between them. Kuja's smile widened. He had missed the pretensions of the upper classes.
"I do hope you do not leave me, much like the last…” The woman trailed off, unable to finish. Kuja blinked in concern and brought his lips to a slight frown.
"Of course I would not leave you, my lady. In a place like this? There are likely monsters prowling, and even if not, I would hardly expect anyone to find their way through this labyrinth alone." He would hardly expect anyone but himself, of course, but he left that implied and unstated.
"May I?" The woman raised her candle to him, and he nodded politely.
"Please. Allow me," he said and extended a finger towards the candle's wick. Kuja willed his magic forward, and the fire crept down his fingertips until it sparked at the candle's touch. The dual-light played against each other, flickering in yellow shadows against cobwebs and tangled roots. The woman smiled at him, ever so slightly with the convictions of the weak. ”I do not wish to be a burden to you,” she said, "I would not ask much from the factions which have served me, much less a kind stranger…”
'A kind stranger.' The title brought a spark to Kuja's eyes. How terribly mistaken first impressions could be...
"It is no burden," Kuja said, "I came to these halls led only by curiosity. Your safety should prove far more important than mere curiosity." At least, it should when it came to women of some high rank who could be easily misled. Kuja tilted his head, furrowed his eyebrows, and looked at the young woman in a kind of polite concern. The frown had not left his lips. "Now, tell me. What brought you to such a dangerous place? And how did you end up alone here?" If there was some enemy lurking, then Kuja wished to know of it. And most women took comfort in expressing their woes.
[attr="class","itsover"] “The ferryman and the wind are one in the same.”
Kuja smiled then. A real, genuine smile that only came from a sudden appreciation and respect. It was a rare emotion, and he reveled in it. "Ah. But of course," he said. Had he felt the need to guard himself, he would have laughed so as to shield his smile and replace it with mockery. But no. If there were two things in the world he could respect, it was intelligence and poetry.
This man seemed to possess an appreciation for both. That and a kind of slothful self-adoration that Kuja could understand far too well. With every new movement, this man further caught Kuja's attention. The subtle lean forward. The casual examination of his gloves. His crossed legs and lazy support of his cheek in one hand. Kuja's eyes sparked with interest as they flicked from one piece of body language to another. He deciphered the stories they had to tell:
'I am a man who is threatened by no one. I have no need to guard myself from you.'
'I am a man to whom none others compare. I need nothing of your approval or that of anyone else.'
'I am a man who takes pleasure in superiority. I will do anything to prove myself better than you.'
In that fraction of an instant, Kuja was able to decipher it all. And in that moment, he decided: This is the one I've been waiting for. This is someone finally worthy of my attention.
Kuja was so lost in his thoughts that he almost didn't notice the man's answer to his question. Yet once he had brought his mind back to the matter at hand, Kuja devoured every word.
“I don’t? I suppose you’re right about that. For something so forbidding, you’d think there’d be something here guarding it, lurking around the corner.” The man's eyes flicked to the three priests beneath him, a tinge of either annoyance or disgust coloring his expression before he returned his gaze to Kuja. “There’s something here, but not quite what I was expecting.” The man gave a long, dramatic sigh -- the kind Kuja was so fond of. “The wandering soul knows no rest…”
"Did you expect rampaging beasts? Hostile enemies? Or perhaps the opened gates of Hell?" Kuja gave a vague wave in the direction of great archway, a smirk touching at his lips. "They call this the Crystalus Divider. They say it is the gate through which the gods abandoned this world to its ultimate demise. Perhaps it leads to another plane, to the afterlife, or nowhere at all." Kuja looked back to the man. He was feeling playful again and had to cover his emerging laughter with the back of his hand. "It might even lead to another world. Perhaps a planet strung along by a pathway of the damned. Or perhaps it would lead us home..."Home. It was such a bitter concept, and yet, Kuja found himself using it almost unironically. After his talk with that cliched paladin, Kuja could think of Gaia in no other light. It was where he belonged -- his story -- and whether for well or ill, he would return to it. He had a role to play, after all.
The man's interest grew at Kuja's musings. He called himself a wanderer of the wind. A man "with a destination in mind but no commitment to it." The man gave a self-interested smirk and tapped pointedly at his own head. "As for the source, that one would happen to come from myself."
"You?" Kuja repeated. His laughter touched lightly at the air like wind chimes. "Then you are quite the poet. I have met precious few others so well-versed in words." Kuja swept his hair back over the edge of his pauldrons. Their waves touched softly at the arch of his back. "Tell me. Did you stem from this meager world or...?" Kuja shook his head. "No. You are like me, aren't you? Another snatched by fate's cruel hand? Another 'wandering soul' who shall never know rest?" Kuja looked up to the man, and his eyes burned with focus. "Do your memories cry out to you as a light through an impenetrable fog? Do you gaze upon odd symbols and know that they once meant the world, but have since crumbled like idols to a lost god?" Kuja took a step towards the man, head tilted and fingers lightly brushing his cheek. "You are restless. You wish to wander and find meaning where it has been lost." Then he stopped. His eyes lowered slightly and he was smirking again.
"But perhaps I shouldn't get ahead of myself. I know nothing of you, after all." Kuja crossed his arms again. His nails trailed across his wrists in streaks. "Let me start again. I am Kuja, a mage of sorts, or if you'd prefer -- a sorcerer." He tilted his head up to meet the man's strange eyes -- blue with a hint of iridescent green like the core of Gaia. "And you are...?"
Not my best, but I didn't want to stretch this out any more than it needed to be. xD
Why should the world exist without me?
[attr="class","itsover"] “I pass the man a coin to cross over that great lake. Perchance to dream but perhaps awake."
Kuja paused at the voice that sounded behind him. It was male, elegant, and clearly announcing itself for someone (likely him to hear). He let his finger fall down the gate's surface until it rested at his side. The man had spoken in rhyme.
"The wind carried many across that lake. What shall we find upon that shore mysteries of life, or death, once more?”
Kuja smirked -- not with his usual bitterness or deceit, but with something more genuinely amused. Poetry. Someone was quoting poetry.
"But why would one need a ferryman if the wind carries all?" He looked up past the height of that great arch to the sky. The sun was overcast by a sea of gray. Not his preferred weather, but it would do all the same. His heart beat with the exhilaration of magic. "I would far prefer to be swept away by the wind than to place my soul in the hands of another."
Kuja crossed his arms so that his fingertips were obscured by the length of his sleeves. Then he turned to appraise the mysterious poet. At first, Kuja couldn't find the source as he scanned the nearly forsaken pathway from the road to the gate. There were the priests -- three of them in all. Then there were the tourists (or something of the sort) examining the gate in awe. At first, Kuja saw nothing out of the ordinary, and certainly no one who had spoken to him. Then he looked up.
The man sat poised at the top of a half-broken column. Kuja first saw a pair of high-heeled boots and crossed leather pants. Then came dual belts, a tight-clinging turtleneck, and the flare of a dark red jacket. The man's hair feathered out in bright auburn streaks that only just revealed a silver earring dangling near his cheek. There was something about his posture -- so casual and theatrically posed -- that struck Kuja as confident, intelligent, and more than a little deceitful. It reminded him of himself -- of crossed arms, strategic smiles, and the disdainful toss of his hair. The man had clearly spoken to him, yet now he merely examined his glove as though Kuja couldn't have interested him less.
It was a tactic Kuja had employed often. It demanded attention while offering none in return, and thus, gave the user a certain leverage in the social hierarchy. Here was a man who was no stranger to declaring the world beneath him. Perhaps his confidence was well-founded or perhaps the man was simply a fool. Kuja tilted his head and smiled back his most perfect of smiles. If the man demanded his attention so, then he would certainly give it.
"And why have you traveled to these forbidden lands? You don't quite seem the type." Kuja gave a disinterested wave towards the priests, bowed in meditation. His eyes remained on the confident stranger. "Are you a grateful traveler or a wanderer of the wind?" Kuja laughed a little behind the back of his hand. "And do tell the source of your poetry. I've been longing for a decent poet for quite some time."
Uh-oh! A villain's found the Crystalus Divider. Also, I totally stole poetry from Poe. =3
Why should the world exist without me?
[attr="class","itsover"] After over two weeks spent residing in the Metaia Temple, Kuja thought that he had something of a generalized idea of it. It was by no means a comprehensive study, nor had it been particularly productive, but as he wandered this strange new land, his stay had proven exactly as useful as it needed to be. He had examined its many labyrinthine halls, had read the many ancient scrolls which lined its archives, and had even snatched three invaluable artifacts which he planned to study at his own pace. Though all of it spoke only of legends, Kuja left with one priceless understanding.
Great power lurked somewhere deep in the heart of Zephon.
A powerful magic had spawned from the core of the Metaia Temple, but it was hardly alone. If Kuja had to guess, the temple was likely something of an ancient power station which harnessed the planet's natural energy. It was a dangerous technology, to be sure. Without revitalization by a crystal, the planet would slowly wither and die. But then, perhaps that was why the station had fallen to disuse in the first place? Regardless, the temple had spoken of a technology far beyond what currently lied in Serentestra. It spoke of a link to the planet's core and of research into the application of spiritual power. That path was the same which had doomed Terra. It was not an easy path to loose oneself from, and yet, this world had left it behind. Why?
If Kuja was to understand this world which had called him, then he first had to answer that question. With the majority of the Metaia Temple explored, studied, and mentally catalogued, Kuja had moved on to the new object of his attention -- the Crystalus Divider.
Kuja had heard of it from the many religious scholars who frequented the temple. With only a little encouragement, they happily exposited the core tenants of their religion for any man foolish or, indeed, desperate enough to ask. They had spoken of the temple, of course, and of its mysterious magical properties (properties which likely came from a position close to the planet's core, though naturally Kuja never told them). They had also spoken of ridiculous fables about life and death -- about realms of bliss and pain, and of course about gods. But what had most caught Kuja's attention was their mention of a certain gate within the realms of Serentestra. According to legend, the gate was eternally closed by some unknown spiritual force and glowed with the power of the gods. To them, it was a gateway to the Beyond -- the point at which their deities had left this world and would never return. But Kuja had heard this story before. A pathway of souls shimmering with a strange and foreign power, theorized to be a gate to some other plane?
It all seemed far too familiar.
"Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish. Now are visions ne'er to vanish, from thy spirits shall they pass, no more -- like dew drops from the grass."
The scholars had not lied when they had called it a gateway. Kuja craned his neck to see the top of a great stone arch, elegantly crafted and tightly sealed. Light ebbed from between cracks and precipices. An iridescent fog crept in tendrils over tangled mosses.
"The breeze -- the breath of gods -- stay still, and the mist upon the hill, shadowy and yet unbroken, is a symbol and a token. How it hangs upon the trees -- a mystery of mysteries..."
Kuja took a step towards the gate, arms crossed and eyes gleaming with interest. There were others here, of course. Most of them were priests or fanatics, all scrambling about their meditations and their prayers to this place of magic and light. Kuja could feel it in the stone beneath his feet. It buzzed with some kind of other-worldly power -- a connection to the planet or maybe something more. Kuja pushed past solemn-eyed devotees and approached the gate. It stood towering above him in great slabs of stone. He lightly touched its surface -- warm.
There was power beyond this archway. Kuja could feel it in the stirrings of his soul. What kind of power needed such thorough sealing, and why had it been done? The magic here was beyond even his comprehension, and yet Kuja felt something familiar about it as though he had read it once in the great archives of Terra and long-since forgotten it. His nails scraped lavender across polished marble. Perhaps if he could open it...But no. It had been sealed for a reason, and first, he would need to learn the cause.
There was no use in unwittingly releasing destruction upon this strange planet. No, if Kuja was to unleash destruction, he wished to do so by his own volition and with complete understanding of his actions. Still, as he stood beside that gated arch, Kuja could only bask in the tantalizing aura of the power which lied beyond.
I'm retroactively adding a template to this to see how it works in practice and if I like it. =P
Why should the world exist without me?
[attr="class","itsover"] 'I don't understand it.'
This was the thought that Kuja could not remove from his mind. 'I don't understand it.' Kuja was not used to confusion. He was the kind to have everything planned out, from beginning to grisly end, and who almost never came across surprises. And yet this moment, right here on this lonely cliffside, he could not have predicted. It was not that the knight had come -- Kuja was more than prepared to handle unexpected intruders -- but rather that the knight had shaken him. Kuja was a master at disguises. His words were always well-practiced and almost memorized. But not now. Kuja had said things he had never spoken to anyone. He had revealed himself. There was something about this knight that set alight something deep and unstable within him. It was a horrible lingering that Kuja could not shake.
He had heard this conversation before. If not these exact words, then something like it. It was like a rope held just out of grasp. He could see it, maybe, but he could not take it. This was where it had all started -- the confusion, the pain, that eternal sense of regret. If he closed his eyes, he thought he heard the rustling of leaves.
“No one deserves to be shackled to a fate they did not choose.”
There it was again. That silence. That unending blue light. And him. The clink of old armor. Sightless white eyes narrowed in disdain. The gasping suppression of his soul.
("I...Master Garland, I'm..."
"You disobeyed me."
"He was...You were going to replace me!"
"As would be my right. Why can't you understand that you exist for the purpose of Terra? You are a vessel for Terran souls and no more."
"I'm...I'm not like..."
"Your free will is an illusion which I have allowed only so that you may serve me. I will not hesitate to take it away."
"Master Garland-!")
Kuja couldn't breathe. The mountain air would not fill his lungs. His fingers curled tightly in the roots of his hair.
“I have lived through many cycles of constant battle, and though my mind may not recall them all, my spirit does. I did not know the true meaning of living until quite recently, once I had finally broken free of those constraints.”
The meaning of living? What was it but to continue to survive? Even if the battles never stopped, even if his constraints never loosened, Kuja's life was his own. It needed no more meaning than that. It was his, no matter where he came from, no matter what was said, and it would never be anyone else's.
“Trapped in endless war, I would not wish it upon my worst enemy, let alone a man that was once chained to the same fate as I. Not even death could save us from such a nightmare.”
'Stop it.' Kuja focused on the sharp tug of his hair. On the scrape of his nails. 'Stop it.' The knight had opened something with his talk of memories and those terrible, familiar pulls that compelled him to honesty. This talk of war and chains and death...Kuja did not need to hear this. Yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, it resonated with the force of a bass drum. 'Trapped in an endless war.' 'Not even death could save us.'
'I won't have to be afraid anymore.'
There was armor behind him. It clinked with the rhythm of movement. It was only turning away -- he knew that sound well.
“I will take my leave. Were you to have any more questions, I trust that you could track me down.”
There was that sound again. The knight was leaving. After all of those answers and all of those questions. Part of Kuja wanted to help him on his way -- anything to get farther from that cursed sense of familiarity. But another part caused him to lower his hand. He felt the stinging embrace of the cold night wind and then opened his eyes again. Here was a new world stretched out before him -- a new, unfamiliar world which he did not understand. Now was not the time to give in to childish compulsions. The knight was the only link that Kuja had to that lost world of memories, and he was the only one so far who had seemed to be of any help at all.
No matter what he felt, Kuja could not let that go. Kuja took a long breath and steadied his hand. "Wait." He became aware of his every movement as he turned -- the straightness of his back, the roll of his shoulders, the slight tilt of his head. He controlled his body like a marionette; he needed complete and utter control. "You seek vengeance against the forces that have brought us here, do you not? You wish for this to end?" Kuja looked up at the star-pricked sky. "If that is your intention, then it seems we share our goals. I will help you accomplish them -- whether it means destroying your 'gods' or something else entirely." Kuja's eyes slid back to the Warrior of Light. He did not smile. "I will continue gathering knowledge of this place and our situation. If you wish to cooperate, then meet me here when the moon shines full once more."
It was only then, as Kuja cast his gaze aside that he allowed himself any emotion at all. "It is the type of night for surprises, after all." His lips crossed with the shadow of a smirk.
Though seemingly well-mannered and polite, Kuja hides a tendency for sadism and sociopathy. Behind his theatrics lies a sharp mind and even sharper tongue. Kuja is scheming, ambitious, and immoral. He is above nothing in pursuit of his goals.
PAWNS
Genesis Rhapsodos - A beautiful poet that Kuja met at an opera. They bonded over theater, poetry, and revenge before ending their night intimately. Kuja would happily use him to indulge his hedonism in the future. Zidane Tribal - Kuja's younger counterpart, Kuja generally regards him with something between malice and indifference. With his memories finally accounted for, Kuja isn't sure whether to hold him in disdain or respect. He's settled on annoyed apathy. Mikoto - A young genome granted a soul by Garland. She idolized Kuja, regarding him as the liberator of Terra. Despite his cold dismissal, Kuja relies on her ingenuity. Though he'll never admit it, he's grown fond of her company. Lady Hildagarde Fabool - The regentess of Lindblum and a brilliant mage whom Kuja once held captive. Despite their complicated history, they've chosen to strike up a cautious correspondence and a professional partnership.
ENEMIES
Caius Dragelion - A mercenary and fledgling dragontamer that Kuja met in the catacombs of the Metaia Temple. Kuja considers him an idiot and holds a deep hatred for him. Garnet til Alexandros XVII - As the queen of the kingdom of Alexandria, Garnet stands firm against any who might threaten it. She is arguably the single person whom Kuja has hurt the most, and despite their cool truce, there will never be peace between them.
OTHER
Yuna - A young summoner and white mage that Kuja met in the Headstone Forest. He has considered if she might be of worth to him
ulla
KUJA'S TIMELINE
Here lies the story of Kuja . All threads are meant to be read in chronological order. Thanks for reading!
@hope -- Kuja awakens in the Reikinto Sands, stumbles across a boy being attacked by sandworms, and saves him. The two fight off a vicious monster before parting ways.
@seymour -- Kuja comes to the Metaia Temple to examine its ruins and stumbles across a strange "moose-man" who reeks of the undead. Offended by the memories the man invokes in him, Kuja attacks, but fails to kill him.
@etherealprincess -- While searching the catacombs of Metaia Temple, Kuja discovers a young princess and promises to guide her away. They are confronted by an illusionary necromancer who seeks their destruction. Kuja destroys the necromancer, and the two escape the labyrinth unharmed. As they say their good-byes, Sarah struggles with her feelings for the mysterious and violent sorcerer.
Lala -- The Warrior of Light stumbles upon Kuja one night on a cliff beside the Metaia Temple. Though Kuja immediately antagonizes him, the Warrior of Light remembers Kuja from their cycles of endless war. The two discuss their shared memories before promising to meet again on the night of the full moon.
Genesis -- Spurned by the Warrior's tale, Kuja seeks out places of power around Zephon and comes to the Crystalus Divider, which he theorizes might be the veil between worlds. While studying it, he stumbles across the wandering poet Genesis, and the two instantly bond over their shared poetic nature. Though the two part ways, they promise to meet again as "absence makes the heart grow fonder."
@dieterwolfram -- Kuja comes to the Headstone Forest in order to research the secrets of its fog. On the way, he runs into a troubled boy with an unstable grasp on the world and an even more unstable grasp on his magic. Kuja promises that should the boy aid his schemes, he will help the boy return home.
@zidane -- Kuja comes to Sonora in order to research its weaponry, but is stopped by a familiar face. Zidane begs Kuja to come with him, but Kuja's memories have not yet fully returned and he turns his brother away. Kuja leaves in a horrid mood, slaughtering several soldiers on his way.
@tidus -- Upon parting with Zidane in Sonora, Kuja approaches the World Sight in a foul mood and with even fouler intentions. Motivated purely by spite, Kuja slaughters the tomb's guards so as to betray Zidane's trust and gain access to the ruins beneath. He is interrupted by an alarmed Tidus and quickly disposes of him. Inside, Kuja finds the secrets to the Dragon's Gate.
Lala -- At the rise of the full moon, Kuja and the Warrior of Light meet once again. After antagonizing him, Kuja tricks the Warrior into leading him to Torensten and the Dragon's Gate.
Lala -- Kuja persuades the Warrior of Light to grant him access to Torensten's ancient Dragon's Gate. After playing on the knight's insecurities, Kuja is allowed to activate the magical artifact and uses it to awaken a horde of dragons. The Warrior attacks, terribly wounding Kuja, but Kuja escapes on a newly acquired silver dragon, leaving the Warrior to die.
@dust -- After activating the Dragon's Gate and releasing Torensten's draconian prisoners, Kuja flies to the Crystalus Divider to check the status of the portal. There, he runs into a familiar monarch. After some mockery, Kuja offers his services to the emperor and instructs him to find Kuja's desert lair should he wish for power.
Aria Diotisalvi -- With his plans in order, Kuja has set up a base in a subterranean tunnel system beneath the Reikinto Sands. Unfortunately, his plots are interrupted by the sudden appearance of an unhinged trespasser.
Aria Diotisalvi -- With Nero unconscious, Kuja heals the man of his dehydration and removes his uncomfortable metal wings. Overcome by gratitude, Nero pledges loyalty to Kuja, offering copious repayment. Kuja accepts and asks him to stay in his desert oasis.
@grimm2 -- Tired of spending all of his time with Nero, Kuja takes a flight over the desert to vent. There, he finds what he thinks to be a half-dead girl in the sand and allowed his dragon to eat her. Unfortunately, that girl is actually Shelke -- a capable girl who wounds his dragon in the process. He tries to smooth the incident over.
@cloud2 -- Kuja is trapped by a sandstorm during his trip to a desert town and forced to wait out the storm with a familiar stranger whose life he saves if only to question him.
@sherlotta -- After months of research, Kuja uses his silver dragon to fly to the Headstone Forest where he intends to make a workshop of some ancient ruins so as to study the fog. While there, he's interrupted and harassed by a young feline girl who he can't decipher, but who infuriates him to no end.
@dustwa , @ganbaatar -- After hearing tell of a necromancer in Provo, Kuja seeks to question him about the resurrection of life in Zephon. He's found, however, by a mercenary investigating the mage and the mage's own bodyguard. They seek out the man together.
@sherlotta -- Kuja is harassed by a talking cat as he works to establish his new base in the Headstone Forest. The two delve deeper into the ruins until he leaves her to die to a daemon wall in the temple's monster-infested basement.
Terra Branford -- Deep within his research into creating black mages, Kuja is distracted by a mysterious magical girl who flies through the skylight of his underground oasis. He attempts to woo her for her power.
@dust2 -- Kuja's magical alarms are triggered as he's putting the finishing touches on his black mage prototypes. He leaves to investigate the disturbance only to find that the intruder is the black mage who stayed with Zidane. The black mage confronts him eventually ending in a full-on fight that ends only when Vivi casts doomsday, nearly killing both himself and Kuja. Kuja believes that Vivi might hold the key to his missing memories and saves the mage's life, dragging him back to his desert lair on the back of his dragon.
@dust2 -- Upon saving the black mage's life, Kuja demands answers from him about his lost memories. He hears too much of the truth, however, and lashes out violently before finally accepting a sliver of what the mage says. After his first real conversation with anyone, Kuja spares the mage's life if only to preserve further information in the future.
@maesterseymour -- Kuja checks in on the status of the Crystalus Divider in order to escape his conflicting feelings over Vivi. While there, he comes across an eloquent and intelligent man with a great knowledge of magic and together they learn more about the true nature of the Divider.
@dust -- Before he leaves the Crystal Divider, Kuja comes across a familiar face -- the pauper Emperor Mateus. Mateus reveals his crystal shard from the World Sight and Kuja offers his resources in exchange for power. Mateus rejects him, leaving them to part on tense terms.
@dust2 -- Vivi wanders to the dragon's hollow, and Kuja finds that the mage has befriended her. After a moment of neutral conversation, he offers the mage a ride on his dragon where Vivi picks flowers and offers them to Kuja. He begrudgingly accepts.
Genesis -- Exhausted by his fears over Vivi, Kuja decides to spend a night at an opera in Sonora. There, he meets a warrior-poet who catches his eye both in his wit and beauty. The two skip the opera choosing to bond over wine instead. They share various details of their life before leaving for a hotel room. The night ends intimately.
@dust2 -- Given time and Vivi's empathy, Kuja decides to finally approach him and listen to his story with an open mind. Upon accepting his ultimate fate, Kuja sets aside his plotting and decides to free Vivi and search for Zidane
@dust2 , Aria Diotisalvi -- After learning of his final fate, Kuja is overtaken by a terrible lethargy that threatens to consume him. An intrusion interrupts his brooding, and he chooses to address it without his makeup or armor, exposing his tail. As it turns out, Nero has returned and met Vivi. Kuja tries to win him over again, but lacks the energy for his usual persona -- losing his loyalty in the process.
Rem Tokimiya , Caius Dragelion , @vossler -- On the way to abandon Vivi and seek Zidane, Kuja receives a a summons from Chaos to the zombie-infested ruins of Metaia. Kuja delves into the catacombs with three unwilling allies, driven by morbid curiosity towards the Lich.
@amarant -- With all distractions cleared, Kuja follows his latent psychic connection with Zidane to Torensten. The two finally meet, and Zidane confirms that they had reconciled before Kuja's death.
@zidane -- Still reeling from his meeting with Zidane, Kuja seeks a place to clear his head only to be confronted by a vaguely familiar face. Amarant attacks him with both words and claws only for Kuja to take no interest and fly away with an injured dragon.
@ultimecia -- Still shaken, Kuja returns to his oasis only to find that his defenses have been shattered by a mysterious woman wielding deathly magic. He offers her his research and mages to avoid hostility only for the woman to offer her own offer in turn. An ageless existence for his service. He takes it and follows her to the Headstone Forest.
@ultimecia -- Ultimecia grants Kuja her power as he officially becomes her knight. She demands that he take her to the core of the Forest and its magic which he obliges. After giving the order to decipher this magic, she leaves him without pretense.
Yuna -- Kuja must find his way out of the Headstone Forest after being stranded there without his dragon. The forest confronts him with a vision of Garland which he dismisses with a flare. This attracts the attention of a certain young summoner who rushes to his aid. They travel together, sharing interests in art and magic, until they once again find the path.
Gilgamesh! -- While searching for lost knowledge within the undead-infested Metaia Temple, Kuja comes across a brash and moronic swordsman who claims to be a master of his craft. Much to Kuja's disdain, they join forces. Shenanigans ensue.
@larsa -- Invigorated by the atmosphere of the masquerade, Kuja socializes endlessly. He has an unpleasant encounter with a boy who he finds self-righteous and base. They part on disagreeable terms.
@amarant -- While in search of a valuable artifact, Kuja finds that someone else has beaten him to it -- the brooding mercenary that had stood beside Zidane. Amarant demands that Kuja answers a question in exchange for the artifact -- what happened between them at the Iifa Tree? With that done, Kuja is granted his artifact with more than a few thoughts along with it.
@blacksuit4 -- Kuja feels a psychic disturbance as he's flying over the Headstone Forest. A genome reaches out to him, and he lands to meet it to satisfy his own curiosity. He meets the third genome granted a soul, a girl named Mikoto. She idolizes him and, for reasons beyond him, he allows her to follow along.
Garnet Til Alexandros XVII -- While waiting for Mikoto to finish her business in Torensten, Kuja runs into a familiar and all too unwelcome face. Princess Garnet confronts him about his evil deeds and promises that she will stop him from whatever he's planning now. He dismisses her and any feelings of regret that still linger within him
@blacksuit4 -- After some time apart in the city of Torensten, Kuja and Mikoto meet at the Plaisir de Magicka to start Mikoto's training in spellcasting. They collectively trash half the park with their destructive spells then make an abrupt escape on his silver dragon.
@aera -- Kuja is attacked by a sandworm while gathering monsters for Mikoto's practical training in magic. He's aided in its destruction by a mysterious white mage..
@blacksuit4 -- In order to continue training Mikoto, Kuja constructs a makeshift monster arena in the Reikin Sands. They discover that while Mikoto doesn't usually have the will to command deadly magic, she'll fall into a fury of magic if Kuja is threatened. He asks her to guard him in the future in order to exploit this.
@blacksuit4 -- Mikoto and Kuja frequent Torensten's Festival of Life together, Kuja in search of magical artifacts and Mikoto out of curiosity of the culture. She wonders as to the nature of love, and Kuja tells her that it's a pointless and destructive emotion felt only by idiots. They see a play together which only confirms that notion, and Kuja suspects that he might enjoy her company.
Kimahri Ronso -- Kuja journeys by dragon to the summits of Mt Hotan in search of a rare flower that is said to be a powerful alchemical ingredient. While there, he is confronted by a strange beastman who is inexplicably hostile towards him. The beast triggers an avalanche during their conflict, and Kuja barely escapes.
@ladyhilda -- While perusing the arts garden outside the University of the Magi, Kuja comes across an old captive, Lady Hilda of Fabool. He is unnerved by the lack of hostility that she shows him and suspects an ulterior motive. Still, her kindness and patience wins out, and he tolerates her company until she delivers him a personal letter and bids him farewell.
@blacksuit4 -- Kuja is driven to sleepless obsession over Hilda's letter. He questions his own perception and her sanity as she wrote him secret words of grief and admiration. When he tries to clear his head, he is accompanied by Mikoto who does her best to offer advice. Kuja confides in her, and together they resolve to find a way to stop his impending death.
@ladyhilda -- Though he was given a mechanical bird to continue their correspondence via letter, Kuja decides to follow the bird instead and meet Lady Hilda in person. He happens upon her Mt Hotan's food and wine fair, and they agree upon a partnership in matters of magical engineering and perhaps to a more personal relationship.
@blacksuit4 -- After a short search, Kuja finds Mikoto asleep in an abandoned underground bunker within Kahiko Valley. She explains her research on his condition as well as her plans -- to find some technology within the lost civilization which may cure him. They delve into the underground labyrinth together before deciding on their future roles, Kuja as the magical strength and Mikoto as the brains of the operation. Their relationship grows more positive as they each finally share their deepest traumas and doubts with the other.
The knight took a moment to himself. The man's expression had changed, and now Kuja saw something else behind it. There was darkness, introspection, and a kind of hollow despair the Kuja knew only too well. Then the man turned his gaze away and back to the flickering of flames.
“I do realize that this is insanity,” he said with an absent touch of his sword, "However, as to why you should believe me? The answer is before you.” The man looked at Kuja again, and Kuja had no choice but to gaze back into those terrible blue eyes. They were bright as ice in the reflections of the firelight. On another night, they might have reminded Kuja of his own blue eyes as clear as the light of Gaia. Only this man's held no deceit.
“Why else would I, knowing full well what destructive magic you are capable of, knowing who you are, knowing what you could do to me, what other reason could there be that I would remain here?”
And in that moment, something broke. There were too many inconsistencies for Kuja's reality to remain true. It wasn't that this man was speaking to him or even that his demeanor seemed familiar. No, it was the way those lines had been stated. "Knowing who you are. Knowing what you could do to me. Knowing full well what destructive magic you are capable of." No one should have known that here. No one, not unless they were familiar with Gaia, and even so -- Kuja was known as a weapons dealer. They thought him a mysterious tactician and inventor from an unknown land. They had no idea the training Kuja had been through, the magic he knew, the damage he could cause by his own hand alone. No one knew that -- not even Zidane.
Only Garland knew, in his palace of the damned on a planet of timeless ruin. Only Garland knew of suicidal missions, the near-death experiences, and the spells Kuja had been forced to cast again and again and again until his mana had drained and he was left in an exhausted heap in that village of silent undeath.
Yet this knight knew. From the man's wary expression to the touch of his sword, and now this, Kuja was certain he knew. He knew what power Kuja could flick casually from his fingertips. He knew what happened to those who crossed him (if not immediately, then always eventually), and the man knew that he was not safe from it.
This knight knew everything.
“I have fought you before. I have spoken to you before, and you do not remember. You have been forced to forget that abominable, bloody cycle of war that you were once trapped in.”
Yes, this man must have fought him before. They had doubtlessly spoken before, and was it not true that Kuja had forgotten? Had it not nagged at him like a thorned burr since his arrival on this forsaken planet? Back in the temple with that moose-man, hadn't Kuja felt the stirrings of some terrible memory? Had he not envisioned unnatural places of buzzing orange lights and a swathe of red feathers? Had he not felt that panic? That dread?
Had he not remembered something like death? The thought chilled him, even now. Was it possible, then, that the knight had told him the truth? It was ridiculous. Laughable, even. And yet...
The knights words carried him forward. The drive that had left Kuja seemed to have entered this man now. Kuja knew those emotions well -- the passion, the rage, the fury for revenge. And above it all, an underlying pain that could not be expressed. “Though you were my enemy, and you may yet still be, I refuse to keep the truth from you, as it was once kept from me. I will not leave you in the dark about your own past.”
It was funny. Any other time, Kuja might have mocked the man. He might have sneered at the sheer naivete of it all and wondered what place sentimentality had over any but the weak. But this was not that time. This time, Kuja could only stand in stunned silence at his words. "Though you were my enemy. Though you may yet still be. I will not leave you in the dark." It felt familiar somehow, and though he couldn't place it, it stirred something inside of him that he had never felt before. Something anxious, confusing, and more than a little painful.
Was this what gratitude felt like? Kuja couldn't be sure.
The knight was standing now. He paced in quickened motions. Anger coursed through his every movement from his glancing eyes to his agitated gestures. His face remained stoic, yet it only hardened the intensity of it all. This was a man with questions he could not answer.
Kuja watched him silently, and after a moment, the knight ceased his pacing, sighed, and looked to him again. There was something else in his expression now -- the hints of a past which would not leave him. “If that is not enough for you, then wait. You will see another being, and your mind will whisper that you know of them. Your gut will recall fearing them, adoring them, hating them. You will dream of it. It will lurk in the back of your mind, until you embrace it."
The knight spoke in impassioned whispers. This was a haunted man, a damaged man. But the moment passed, and the knight took a breath to steady himself. Kuja knew of those shadows well. In time, they would consume him.
And he would never be the same.
"I believe you." The words felt wrong to Kuja, somehow. They were words that should not be from a sentiment that he didn't understand. Yet they were true, and he spoke them. "I don't know what this is, and your story is ridiculous, but at least for now -- I believe you."
Kuja took a step back towards the cliff. He gazed upon the ground below, at the ruins of a temple and the great, over-arching spirals that nearly pricked the clouds. He touched his forehead with the back of his hand and closed his eyes against it.
"I have felt the stirrings of memories that I do not understand. I seem to recall something terrible -- a mistake I made, or something like it. I took myself too far, and then...I don't know. Something happened after that. I...I think I wanted it to end."
Had Kuja ever spoken this honestly with anyone? 'Yes,' his heart recalled, but he couldn't remember it. Maybe that time had changed him. This felt far more natural than it should have been.
Kuja didn't raise his head from his hand. He didn't turn or even open his eyes. There was one more nagging question that he couldn't rid himself of, and he longed for an answer. "Why would you speak to an enemy this way?" The words came like echoes of some distant truth. Too far away to carry meaning. "If you know what I am. If you know what I've done and can do. I don't understand it..."
His voice reverberated on empty cliff-sides. This felt familiar, so familiar. But the mountain carried no reply.
Final Fantasy IX
27
YEARS
Agendered
Open
Pansexual
333 POSTS
Fin
Peace is but a shadow of death, desperate to forget its painful past.
Oddly enough, the fairy-tale knight didn't question Kuja's order. He did not resist, attack, or even hesitate. Instead, he placed his lantern down between them and began pacing thoughtfully. Kuja tapped a steel-toed boot impatiently, but as the knight did not seem to have hostility on the mind, Kuja let him think without mockery. The man stopped some several feet away -- out of traditional spell-casting range, it seemed. The man truly did know him, after all, and perhaps had even fought him if he knew the limits of Kuja's magic. Kuja's spells were not the kind that he generally liked to display at full-force (he always preferred to be under-estimated unless the situation proved dire or it was time to seize victory). In fact, Kuja could not think of anyone who had fought him at this range, or at least no one who had lived to tell of it. Even so, the knight watched him with those piercing eyes. Caution was in them as he lowered himself to the ground. A display of submission? Or perhaps an offering of peace?
Kuja couldn't care less. He kept his arms haughtily crossed and refused to look at him.
“It is a long, confusing tale, and I do not have all of the details of what you experienced personally."
'Well then why should I bother with you?' Kuja thought, but restrained himself. No. No matter what his mood, lashing out was the irrational option here. Not when he was about to learn something. Not when there were so many questions unanswered. If he could handle that boor of a queen, then he could bite back his irritation now So long as he avoided those eyes.
"Needless to say, your feelings of disgust towards Chaos perplex me, as you fought for his purpose so seemingly willingly.”
"Fought for his purpose?" Kuja repeated. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, but I have fought for many who have disgusted me. Far too often."
'And they usually end up dead,' Kuja thought, but didn't say aloud. He assumed this knight knew enough that such sentiment wouldn't surprise him, but it wasn't Kuja's mode of operation to let such bloody details see the light of day. There was no need to call attention to his sadistic hobbies, after all. Not yet.
But the knight was not done. He sighed, and by the lantern's weak firelight, he looked older somehow. Though his face held no wrinkles and no particular scars, there was a kind of shadow in the man's eyes that darkened his heroic expression.
Perhaps the knight had cracked his shining armor.
“I will try to sum it up as best I can," the knight said, and then he began into what Kuja could only reasonably call "absolute gibberish."
The man spoke of great gods of good and evil. He spoke of light and harmony battling the forces of darkness and discord. He spoke of summoned warriors from different worlds set to do battle for eternity. He spoke of death and of rebirth, and it here that Kuja had to stop him with a harsh, incredulous laugh.
"You're saying that I've died?" Kuja said, "I asked for truth, and you're clearly mocking me."
Yet that oh-so-battle-worn expression had not faded from the knight's face. He looked as serious as always, and not even Kuja could find a hint of sarcasm within him. "You wish me to believe that -- what? Gods called us forth to some other world? That they forced armies of hapless victims into violent battle? That is madness, and I'll have you know that I don't believe in gods."
The words came faster now, harsher and unstoppable. "I know everything of life and death, and I can assure you there is no true rebirth beyond that path. What fools take for the work of gods is nothing but the systematic workings of a living planet. All life is drawn forth into a great, continuous Cycle of Souls, and so, as one spirit leaves a physical body it is called back into the heart of the planet. The planet is revitalized, the soul's memories are collected in the ethereal plane of Memoria, and a new soul forms in the body of a fitting vessel. Or at least, that's the natural way of things when Soul Dividers are not involved."
Kuja stopped himself. Such knowledge was usually restricted to his own research (kept recorded entirely in Terran, of course, so that it would never fall into the wrong hands), and to unwilling conversations with Garland. But he had to remind himself that this was not Gaia and his unfitting knowledge would not draw so much attention here. After all, he was no enemy of this planet, and he was already considered something of an alien...
“I can only recall the final cycle with any clarity,” the knight continued, "That is where I recall you from. As an agent of Chaos. You seemed intent on destroying someone you knew.”
"Destroying someone I know?" Kuja repeated. Well, that could have been anyone. He certainly had no shortage of "people he'd be better off without," but the phrasing felt odd to him. There was only one whom he had ever actively sought to destroy. And had this knight truly seen such wrath, he doubtlessly would have remembered it.
“You, and everyone else Chaos chose to fight for him, were defeated and returned to your worlds. Chaos was eventually defeated as well, and with both he and Cosmos gone, the cycle was ended. Everyone faded away, back to their own worlds.”
The knight looked at him with an air of finality. Kuja looked back incredulously. "That's it?" he said, "That's the end?" When the knight offered no more, Kuja let out a single, derisive "Ha!" and turned away from him. "So the forces of evil fell to the great, enlightened hands of good? My, how cliched of you. If you were going to make up stories, then I'd at least wish for a better one. Why not add in some tragic irony? A late-act twist? Could the forces of evil not have been right all along? Or perhaps the Goddess turned out to be a false priestess leading the heroes on? To name only a few ideas." Kuja gave an irritable wave of his hand. "Not to mention that your story is full of inconsistencies. After all, if the actors returned to their own worlds, then why would they be here now? Or do you mean to say that this has truly been Gaia all along? Have I mistaken the colors of the moon?"
But the knight was not listening. One glance proved that the 'Warrior' had looked up to the sky and the violet horizon. His eyes had lost their focus. His voice came with the soft intensity of a dying flame. “Strong warriors from different worlds, all suddenly transported to the same place, with hardly a recollection of how, or why...” As his words faded, the knight looked again to Kuja, and there in those hated eyes, Kuja found something honest, pained, and perhaps a little heated. “It’s too familiar.”
And for the first time since the knight had spoken, Kuja listened.
Because this, for once, made all too much sense. Kuja had no recollection of where he was or how he'd come here. He had no recollections of the recent past at all, and that was a phenomena that Kuja could not explain. The Warrior had granted him the hint of an explanation. They were being toyed with by gods. Gods of an eternal war...
"But why?" Kuja frowned, and for once, his brows did not prickle with irritation. "Even if you speak the truth -- even if there are gods who could play us like puppets -- why pick us? Or...me?" The thought of it seemed bizarre. Unreal. Yes, Kuja had wreaked havoc on Gaia. Yes, he had sought to take control of the Cycle of Souls for himself and rule over whatever life remained after Gaia's assimilation. But his quest had always been personal. Kuja was not some story-book villain who would call upon dark forces of chaos and seek eternal destruction. No, if Kuja had to play the villain, he was the type from one of Lord Avon's plays. Motivated by flawed goals and hubris, but ultimately, well, human for lack of a better term.
Kuja knew well of other planets, but this he could not comprehend. Kuja belonged in that world he had never truly belonged in. He deserved to play out that conflict to its fullest -- to finally reap the victory of his lifetime of work or to fall victim to the products of his own ill deeds. Yet he was not there, and perhaps never would be again.
Kuja felt a throbbing behind his eyes. He rubbed away the beginnings of a headache.
"Warrior of Light." The strange not-name felt stiff on his tongue. "You must know that this is insanity." His mind flashed to the silence of his Desert Palace, to its marble pillars and deathly statues. Suddenly, he longed for those long nights of stress, for the isolation, for that barely concealed panic that had risen steadily to the forefront of his mind. If this man's story was true, then none of it had ever mattered.
"Tell me. Why should I believe you?"
Final Fantasy IX
27
YEARS
Agendered
Open
Pansexual
333 POSTS
Fin
Peace is but a shadow of death, desperate to forget its painful past.
I retro-actively put in this new template because I like it. xD I'll keep using it if it's not too much of a hassle.
Why should the world exist without me?
[attr="class","itsover"] Legends spoke that great power had once lurked deep within the walls of the Metaia Temple. It had belonged to an ancient race known now only in shaded whispers and the faded writings of old parchment. It was said that these temple-builders had discovered something on this very ground, and that its power could shake the world. Now the holy conduit had fallen into ruin. Polished marble had worn to chipped and broken stone. All that was left was crumbling walls and towering arches sent spiraling up to the heavens. Scholars pondered what it might mean. Was it some religious symbol of unity? Could it, perhaps, have helped to focus the magic that lied deep within? Or was it merely decoration used by the people in the same way that Zephron's many towers consumed the modern landscape? Even after over a century of study, the scholars knew nothing. But that's the way it always was with old legends. They just needed the proper mind to bring them to life.
Kuja had spent over a week in this temple's hallowed halls. He'd woken to the scent of must and worked to the soft touch of worn paper and the soft flickerings of candlelight. Though the scholars couldn't have felt it, Kuja knew that something lurked deep within this temple. He felt it from the moment that he had approached its broken archways. There was magic here -- powerful magic, the kind that put the eidolons to shame. He could not say as to what power could be found here or if it was best to find it at all. He only knew that its energy pricked at his soul like static. Kuja had never been the kind to ignore power like that. And so he had studied.
The moon shone brightly in the sky that night -- nearly full but not yet. During the day, the temple swarmed with scholars and mages. Kuja preferred to work at night when he could wander these ruined halls alone. The darkness didn't bother him. In fact, after his many years in Treno, he quite preferred the shadows of eternal night. Walking down the streets of Treno, he'd always admired how the lamplights flickered on the waves of the canal. There was nothing of that kind of beauty here in the middle of this dreary new planet, but there was something at least. The jagged heights of cliffs like silver. The swaying of windswept grasses. Then, of course, there was the sky. Without its usual crimson stain, Kuja could have gazed upon it for hours. The red moon of Gaia had not followed to this planet, and so, it had beauty all in its own.
Kuja's studies had brought him outside the temple walls that night with its nearly-full moon and the quiet rustlings of shadow. In the five nights since his arrival, he had explored most of the hallways, chambers, and archaeological sites located within the temple proper, but his search had offered few results. Kuja had discovered old writings in languages unfamiliar to him as well as several ancient artifacts which held little meaning. These were kept under constant guard by the scholars -- he had needed a powerful sleeping spell to gain access for only an hour -- and so they were useless to him until the time came that he could steal them for himself and slip away into the night. That time would come, doubtlessly, but it was not now. Now was the time to delve deeper in his search. There was still much of the temple far too dangerous for the average archaeologist to explore.
Here, among unsteady foundations and the nests of monsters, Kuja thought that he might find his answers.
Along the temple's outer walls, several archways were set deep within the ground. These archways led to decrepit staircases and then to dilapidated halls. While the temple proper had been fitted with a kind of electrical lighting, the same had not been extended to these abandoned catacombs. Kuja called upon the stirrings of his own magic and a whispered spell to guide him. Flames sprang from his hand in warm tendrils. Its light played across the cobwebs, tangled roots, and cracked walls that decorated the passage before him. Kuja proceeded with careful steps. Behind him, moonlight faded to black. The halls enveloped him in utter silence.
The pull of magic grew stronger here. The deeper he came, the more he felt the burn of a dormant power buzzing through the air like electricity. His path descended deeper into the earth, and soon he would intercept other passages that splayed off like the strands of a spider's web. He heard nothing but his own breaths, his own pulse, and his own footsteps tapping in metallic rhythm against uneven dirt floors.
Then there was the scream.
It cracked through the silence like ice. One long, echoing scream. Kuja froze at the sound of it. A monster perhaps? Or the result of one? The voice had sounded feminine and fueled itself on primal terror -- a kind that could only be inspired by the open threat of death. Kuja had heard it many times (often at his own hands), and he knew that whoever else had joined him in these ancient halls must have found themselves in mortal danger.
Kuja did not rush to find the source. He fully expected the hapless victim to be dead on his arrival, and if it was not yet, it soon would be. Kuja kept his focus on the darkness. Whatever had caused such a scream almost certainly still lurked within the labyrinth. Kuja listened carefully for any signs of movement. The magic at his fingertips burned hot. But no monsters came pouncing from the shadows.
Instead, he found a woman.
She stood alone in the darkness, hands clasped and eyes rounded in terror. By his magical firelight, she looked to be a young, likely in her early twenties, with a light frame and a kind of delicate beauty that could only be spawned by innocence. Kuja glanced from her stunning auburn hair to her sheathed sword to a fur-lined cloak.
All in all, the woman looked quite out of place in this labyrinth of ancient magic and fierce monsters. Yet Kuja could not find it in himself to bristle with his usual irritation. She reminded him somewhat of the newly coronated Queen. There he had also seen the beauty of innocence mixed with the fires of adventurous passion. She had been like a delicate angel -- a dove caught in his gilded cage.
Or rather, a canary. Kuja widened his eyes with false concern.
"My, but I didn't expect to find another here in these perilous halls. Was it you that screamed?" Kuja shook his head lightly and then swept his sleeve into a practiced bow. "My name is Kuja. I came here as a scholar to study the ancient ruins here. Are you in need of assistance, my lady?" As he straightened, a kind of faint smile came to his lips -- the kind he only offered to those he planned to woo and then use. "My magic should prove more than enough to aid you."
“I am the Warrior of Light. My apologies, for coming off as rude.”
Had Kuja's mood been better, he would have smirked, tossed his hair, and chimed, 'Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?' He started the routine as an instinctive response born from years of upkeeping his persona. There was the smirk, the slight touch of his hair, and then the words on the tip of his tongue. But as his lips parted, the man's response fully registered with some higher part of his brain.
"I am the Warrior of Light."
It was such an unexpected response that suddenly Kuja was laughing. It was like every stereotypical children's tale come true. The brave young warrior gifted with the holy powers of Light sent off to combat the forces of evil. It was so blunt, so unassuming, and so outrageously cliche that it was all Kuja could do to keep himself from lifting his chin and laughing into the night like a hyena. "Warrior of Light? My, how pretentious of you. Has your Goddess deemed your soul too pure to be sullied by a proper name? Or are you merely-"
'-upholding your beloved honor as a holy paladin?' He had said this before. Sometime. Somewhere. Deep in the fog which he couldn't recall. And what exactly had he meant by a 'Goddess?' It could merely have been poetic waxing, but the way that he had said it...And the way it had slipped from his tongue...
Kuja's eyebrows tilted into a slight furrow. His lips closed tightly.
The knight had removed his hand from his sword. Though he looked no less cautious, some of the hostility had cleared from his expression. He stood now almost professionally with his head back and his arms at his side. There was something authoritative in his eyes. They watched him like blue reflections off of still water.
Where had he seen it before? Those eyes had always unnerved him. But why couldn't he remember?
“We met in a previous engagement that you seem to have forgotten,” the knight said, and had Kuja's frustrations overcome his sense of unease he might he might have snapped back, 'As though that was not clearly apparent. Thank you so much for that clarification.' But Kuja didn't have long to wait before the knight continued, and he'd lost his chance to reply.
“Do you not recall a being known as Chaos? An endless cycle of war?”
"What on all of Gaia are you talking about?" Kuja said. "'Chaos?' Well, if that isn't the most cliched-" But no. That word did mean something when sneered from his own lips. It held some kind of primal anger, an overwhelming feeling of disgust, and an indignity which he couldn't explain. "Chaos," he said again. And there was that response, like a dark wave inside of him. "Chaos..."
And suddenly he was scowling.
"I don't want anything to do with it, whatever it is." The words came harsh now -- all pretense gone. "But you know something. Something I've forgotten." Kuja looked up at the knight, and he felt the fire behind his eyes. They were narrowed in serpentine focus. "Tell me."
