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year 5, quarter 3
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[attr=class,bulk] Yuffie followed her far too quickly to the training yard. It was hardly a few minutes before the girl came practically skipping out after her, eyes bright until she started arguing again. Celes had no idea how Caius usually handled her. Perhaps he didn’t and that was where the problems began. Perhaps he would have preferred that they go easy on her, considering her age and relative naivete. If she’d only been a child they’d decided to take in, that would be one thing. If the girl insisted on calling herself a Dragonblade, boasting of it even, then that was another entirely.
And Celes was not Caius.
She let the girl speak her mind, and it seemed she had quite the mind to speak. She was tired of proving herself, apparently. Part of Celes wanted to point out that, no, Yuffie had not been so important that Caius had written about her. Maybe if she wracked her memory (and looked through the letters again), she might find some mention of her, but he gave absolutely no impressions, no confidence, and no instructions on how to handle her. Which left it entirely up to Celes’ discretion. Wonderful.
She must have had the wrong idea by what Celes wanted from her in the training yard, considering how she’d drawn her weapon already. She had no doubts that Caius had sparred with her before if that was her expectation. Celes fixed her with a look that was entirely unimpressed.
”I meant you,” she said. ”You are a new recruit, and I want you to clean up the mess in the lobby. Once you’ve finished with that, we’ll run training exercises. I want to see your stamina, strength, dexterity, and most importantly, your self-discipline.”
It didn’t so much matter to Celes if the girl really could fight a god as she claimed. So could most that came from beyond this strange gathering point of a world they all reluctantly called home. It didn’t matter even if she could defeat Celes. If the girl had no restraint then she wasn’t worthy of being called a Dragonblade, and that was that in her mind.
[attr=class,bulk] It was three o’clock in the afternoon, and Celes was already exhausted.
She was exhausted most days, really, be it in Provo or Torensten or anywhere in between. For now, she was back in her usual city, suffering in the heat of the tropical climate in summer. Caius had fitted the Wyvern’s Rest with some kind of magic crystals in her absence which kept the building itself quite cool, but the training yard was quite the different story. When it wasn’t blazingly hot, it was dreadfully humid, and that was when it wasn’t both at once. The magic in her blood wasn’t made for this kind of weather, and it made her miserable, tired, and irritable all at once.
This was rather unfortunate for the recruits under her command.
It seemed that Caius had not gone quite as soft on them as she’d expected, but her return did prompt quite the round of muttered complaints. She worked those would-be mercenaries the hardest. The ones with more discipline, the ones that stood up straight at her arrival and worked their very best to prove they were worth more dangerous and high paying missions she largely left unbothered except to oversee their forms, drills, and sparring. None of Torensten’s native mercenaries were on par with those who came from off world, but they were doing better. They had improved, and though Celes might have been hot, sweaty, and splattered with the mud of a recent bout of rain, she was none the less satisfied.
In those particular men at least.
The others tested her patience on a daily basis. And each day she wrote in their files notes of complaint. Those who had glowing reviews from Caius she judged even harder. There was no self-discipline in listening only to the words of a hero, after all. Caius was the savior of Torensten from the Kraken’s wrath. He was quite easy to admire and to follow. If those same men refused to extend the same respect to her…
Well, they wouldn’t last long now that Caius was gone, would they?
Celes was reviewing those files after a long morning in the training yard when she heard the doors to the front burst open and an unfamiliar voice call out in an accent that she didn’t recognize. ”Heyup, anybody about? Figurin’ I could lend you lot a hand. If you’re interested in a genius, that is.”
Oh gods, this sounded like Yuffie all over again.
Still, Celes was nothing if not professional. Seeing as this was Tomoe’s day off, she took a breath, stored her files away, and started towards the entrance. It occurred to her that she probably should have bathed once she’d finished in the training yard. Her hair was still swept back, slick with sweat and tangled from her sparring. Her yellow jacket and pants were, likewise, dotted with old sweat and the bottom of her boots were caked with dried mud. Her appearance didn’t exactly make a great first impression on any clients or potential recruits that might come her way while she was, theoretically, on welcome duty.
”Can I help you?” she asked as she rounded the corner to greet the mysterious young woman who had come through their doors. Said woman was quite practically dressed in high boots, gloves, and a scarf around her neck. Her hair was nearly as long as she was tall, but she kept it neatly braided behind her, kept in place by several pieces of cloth tied around it at regular intervals. Her eyes were bright with enthusiasm.
”I’m Celes Chere. Co-founder of the Dragonblades. Sorry for the wait. Our receptionist is currently on leave.” She made her way to the desk, choosing to stand beside it rather than sit. ”Are you here to sell us something?”
The last thing she needed today was the speech of a solicitor.
[attr=class,bulk] Celes tried for patience. She really did. Far be it from her to snap at a child so young and full of energy. Still, her patience had its limits even at a time such as this, and she had to bite her tongue to keep herself from losing her composure as the girl laughed at her misfortune. It was a short laugh, perhaps prompted by the girl’s clear offense at being taken less than seriously for her age. She had still done nothing to prove that she was worth being taken seriously.
But she did quite like to talk, and though half of what she said was nothing but blustering and bravado, Celes learned quite a bit, half-listening to it all. The girl’s name was Yuffie. She was acquainted with Caius. And she too had been dragged from her own reality into this shared fever dream along with them.
The pieces clicked together quite easily. Caius must have found her somewhere, likely boasting to some wolves on the side of the road as they prepared to rip her apart. He’d offered her a place at the Dragonblades out of pity. Or perhaps some latent parental responsibility. Now that Caius was gone, none remained who could keep her in check.
How lucky it was then that Celes had returned when she had.
Celes hummed as Yuffie confused her with the ’delivery lady’ and then scrambled behind the desk to retrieve a mop for her to clean with. She waited until the girl had found it before she stood, brushing off her pants from the debris that had gathered there.
”Sorry. I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself properly. My name is Celes Chere, co-founder of the Dragonblades. Seeing as I haven’t given consent to a third leader, you may want to rethink how you represent our organization.”
She straightened, fixing the girl with the hard look of a general reprimanding a particularly difficult soldier. ”This really is more the job of a new recruit, I'd say. I assume you know how to use that.” She gestured at the mop in Yuffie’s hand. ”Once you're finished, join me in the training yard. I’d like to see how you fare.”
[attr=class,bulk] The voice that greeted her was…not Tomoe.
Celes looked up in surprise to see a girl some years younger than she was. More of a child, really, no older than seventeen. The girl told her that deliveries were usually taken in the back which they most certainly were not considering the back of the Rest was taken up entirely by the training yard. Then she went on talking with the kind of blunder and gusto usually reserved for men dead drunk on wine and boasting about their feats of strength to some unlucky waitress.
For a moment, Celes could only stare at her. She felt her mouth open in surprise then twist in confusion. Her eyebrows furrowed. ”The…leader?” she repeated.
Had this child just walked in the front door and started declaring herself in charge? Where was Tomoe?
”This is our place of business,” she said as patiently as she could manage all things considered. ”You really shouldn’t play pretend. Are your parents nearby?”
Perhaps that was where Tomoe had gone. Some clients preferred privacy when they were requesting a job be done. This girl must have come in with a guardian of some sort and then been left to run wild while Tomoe negotiated a fair price for their services. Celes would have to have a talk with her about the children of clients and what they were and were not allowed to do.
Unfortunately, Celes didn’t have time to go looking for them because at that very moment, her wet and wasted back split open, spilling its contents all over the floor. Celes hissed a curse that was perhaps not appropriate for a child’s ears, but then again, Celes herself had heard far worse at a far younger age, growing up among soldiers and all that. She dropped to her knees, attempting to gather the potion bottles as they rolled away from her in an attempt to escape. One of them had broken on impact, sending shards of glass across the wooden floor that would have to be swept up before they hurt someone. Then she would need to find a mop for the potion itself.
What a lovely day. What a lovely welcome. Celes gathered as many of the potion bottles in her arms as she could manage and then began setting them aside, careful of the glittering glass shards that littered the floor like caltrops.
”Could you fetch Tomoe? The secretary?" Celes asked, her voice straining with the attempt at civility. "I could use the help.”
[attr=class,bulk] Celes scowled as she ducked under an awning outside of a bakery, already soaked through from the sudden oncoming rain showers that had struck at exactly the wrong time. Her clothes were damp. Her feet were uncomfortably slippery inside of her boots. Rainwater dripped from her bangs in heavy rivulets down her cheek.
All around, other visitors to the city were taking cover wherever they could – inside of shops, under jackets they held above their heads, under strategically placed awnings like herself – while others simply trudged on, resigned to be miserable and soaked straight through for the rest of the day. The locals, meanwhile, always had a source of shelter onhand. Every market stall came installed with a cloth covering both to protect them from the blazing sun and then from the onset of rain so heavy that it seemed to come down in sheets.
Celes wrung out her hair the best she could, eyeing the water that puddled at her feet distastefully, before she opened her bag to check on the content inside. She’d only been back a day and she was already running errands for the Wyvern’s Rest. Now that Caius had hired a secretary to handle her duties at the front desk, she’d been given a little more freedom for other matters. She chose to use that freedom to restock the Rest’s supplies. They’d been low on potions – an urgent matter for the training yard if she had anything to with said training – and it had taken her hours to find a suitable apothecary willing to sell in bulk.
She’d picked up a few other items while she was there. An echo herb or two. Five antidotes. Three phoenix downs. Thankfully, most of the items in question had come in tightly sealed bottles that protected them from the rain, but the phoenix downs hadn’t fared so well. She swore to herself at the sight of them, hoping upon hope that they would work just as well if the feathers were a tad worse for wear. Given the price of the things, she just might stomp back to the apothecary and demand a refund if they didn’t.
Celes waited. The rain continued on until, just as suddenly as it started, it trickled to a stop. The clouds cleared. The sun came out as bright as though it had never left. Celes sighed, trudging back into the streets through the newly formed puddles in the uneven cobblestone. She had never been a fan of summer in Torensten.
By the time she made it back to the Rest, she was in a foul mood not improved by the thought of her men seeing her in this state. Her yellow jacket and pants darkened with rain splatter. Her hair a dripping mess plastered against her forehead. And her bag, stupidly and distressingly made of paper, so damp it was about ready to split open. Still, there was nothing to be done about it, and so she pushed open the heavy wooden door and trudged inside with all the dignity of a wet cat.
”Tomoe? I got those things you asked for,” she called as she stepped through the doorway, her eyes firmly on the bag as though she could keep it intact by strength of will alone. ”Well, I brought a bit more than that, but I used my own funds so it shouldn’t be a worry.”
Far be it from her to go beyond budget and plunge the Dragonblades into debt on a whim. She wasn’t Caius, after all, and one look at the accounts told her that she’d been foolish to leave him in charge of their funds for as long as she had.
[attr=class,bulk] Terra seemed flustered by her suggestion – so flustered in fact that she finally let go of her vice grip on Celes’ neck. That was something, at least, and Celes cleared her throat as she rubbed awkwardly at the wet spot Terra’s tears had made on her chest. Celes felt like a mess, standing there under the hot sun slick with sweat and tears – another woman’s tears at that. Her undershirt was spotted with them.
Terra’s head was lowered now in shame. Celes felt a twinge of guilt at that. She’d been so happy only a moment earlier, had she been too harsh? But Celes also wanted desperately out of view of her men and so she kept her questions and apologies to herself as she nodded and started for the door back inside.
Privacy. That was what they needed. Celes had no idea what they’d talk about once they had it, but that element of surprise was why they needed it so badly. Celes couldn’t discount that she’d be the one shedding tears next, and that wouldn’t do in front of a crowd.
She marched up the narrow staircase, her feet cramping with the strain of her boots after the long journey across country. The upstairs was a tad hotter, but that was what open windows were for. A cool breeze rustled through the palm leaves and struck her as she opened her bedroom door. It felt almost delightful enough to distract her from her current predicament.
That predicament being, well, Terra walking dejectedly behind her, shoulders slumped, eyes downcast. For a woman who had once been stripped of her emotions, she certainly had a lot of them now. Terra pulled the door closed behind them and then pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the tears from her eyes. Celes couldn’t help but start in surprise at the sight of it. Was that…Locke’s?
Locke. Her heart beat a little faster, a little hotter. Had Terra been given that piece of cloth from him before all of this mess began or…?
Or was Locke somewhere here? Somewhere Celes hadn’t managed to find yet? Was he out there even now, traipsing about, eyes sharp for someone else’s treasure to steal?
Celes didn’t have time to ask before Terra was apologizing.
”You don’t have to-” Celes sputtered in response, but it didn’t seem like they were talking about the same thing anymore. At least not judging from Terra’s blush. ”What would they assume?”
Well, that Celes was weak for one. Just a weak-willed woman with silly emotions. But that could hardly be what Terra was thinking. And then something about her blush and the mention of rumors brought it all together, and Celes blinked in surprise.
”Oh no! No, no. I doubt they’d think that.” Did Terra assume that they’d assume that the two of them were lost lovers? That seemed like quite the step. Had Celes somehow set this up in the other woman’s head?
Now it was Celes’ turn to blush. ”It’s fine, Terra. Really. They’re all too busy whispering that I’m some love-struck fool over Caius. Can you imagine that?”
How on all the worlds had she managed to get herself into this mess?
”I wish I’d been here when you first came,” Celes said, hoping that maybe she could somehow get things back on track. ”I usually am. I was just off in Provo helping a friend. Have you met Yuna? She’s…” With her thoughts all scrambled and flustered, she couldn’t think of the right word. Nice? Quiet? Too willing to help? ”Well, I think you’d get along.”
Celes walked over to her bed, perched on the side of it, and used the opportunity with her back to Terra to bite her lip. Oh, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all! She didn’t know how it was supposed to go exactly, but this certainly wasn’t it. Celes swallowed back as much of her rising frustration as possible and began taking off her boots as though nothing were wrong at all and she was back from any other trip.
”I’m sorry if the room isn’t much,” she said because silence was the enemy and she couldn’t keep from filling it. ”I only just got back, and I don’t live here exactly. At least not most days. Usually it’s just where I take a nap if I work too many hours into the night.”
Such useless talk. What did it matter if the room was plain? Only a bed, a dresser, and an end table to fill it? It didn’t matter at all yet Celes felt the need to comment. Perhaps her nerves really had turned her silly.
Celes set her discarded boots aside and watched them for a moment, frowning as quieter thoughts crept their way into her head.
”Terra…Where have you been?” She kept her eyes on the boots, on the floor, back turned. ”And why are you here? Doing jobs for Caius? That doesn’t sound like you at all.” She remembered Terra’s resistance whenever there was a fight. She hated being used as a weapon even of her own volition, and that was hardly to mention the sheer amount of effort it had taken to convince Terra to come along after the world had gone to hell.
”Do you need help?” Celes finally turned to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. ”If you need the gil, I can help you with that. There are easier ways to earn it than fighting. You don’t have to…” She waved a hand towards the sword sheathed at Terra’s hip, almost lost among the sea of decorative scarves she’d tied there.
[attr=class,bulk] At first, Terra responded softly, her whisper lost to the sounds of clashing wooden swords and stomping boots. Terra was elegant as a bird in flight and as subdued as a frightened mouse, at least on her bad days. There were days, Celes remembered, when Terra had laughed among the rest of them, but those days were fleeting compared to the weeks of her small smiles and quiet words. It wasn’t until Celes had closed the distance between them that she saw a change to that smile. Thankfully, Terra had managed to fight back her tears. Maybe it felt better seeing the usually confident Celes brought to stuttering and small jokes between them.
But Terra didn’t seem to take it as a joke. She advised her to scream if she really wanted to, and Celes laughed. It was a hard, disbelieving laugh with a hint of exhaustion behind it. Was Terra really lecturing her about the human experience? It seemed so. That time away flying about the wilderness in her esper form must have taught her something since they’d last met.
”I know that,” Celes said. ”Of course I’m not a machine, but…” She waved a hand towards the rest of the yard. Half of the men had a sense for drama and had stopped their drills to watch. The others kept about their work as dutifully as she’d taught them, but would certainly stop if she started screaming like a madwoman. ”Well, this isn’t the place, is it?”
Maybe it would be to Terra. Maybe emotions meant more to her than status. Terra hadn’t always been allowed them, after all, and Celes supposed that she hadn’t always been allowed them either though in a different and less literal way. It was only natural that Terra treasure the truth of her heart. Celes had other priorities.
She knew she shouldn’t have placed a hand on Terra’s shoulder. That initiating touch that felt so unnatural for her seemed to be taken as invitation, and in moments Terra had thrown herself at her and Celes was gripped in a tight embrace, the other woman’s arms around her neck and her face buried deep in her chest as she finally let loose the sobs she’d been holding back. Celes was stunned into silence.
”Ah…” No words would come as Celes stood there, stiff and wild-eyed and so very unsure what to do about it. She felt the other woman’s tears slide hot against her chest, and she wondered briefly if the layer of sweat on her skin bothered Terra at all. It didn’t seem to. Slowly, stiffly, Celes put a hand on Terra’s back and patted her. Was that the least bit comforting? She had no idea.
But she had to do something. Terra still hadn’t let go of her.
”That’s…good.” Did Terra know just how little experience Celes had with crying women? If not, she likely did now. ”I wouldn’t exactly call this my place, but it’s done some good, I think.”
There was that word that kept coming back. Good. Couldn’t she think of anything better?
”Would you like to talk…somewhere a little more private?” Celes glanced over at the mercenaries. Oh yes. There would be gossip about this in the coming weeks. ”My room here perhaps?”
[attr=class,bulk] Celes found her rhythm. It was a familiar rhythm, soothing as she began to sweat through her undershirt and her muscles began to ache with refreshing exhaustion. Sword training wasn’t exactly enjoyable to her, but it was as natural as anything else the empire had drilled into her, year after countless year until she was their perfect soldier, a magitech knight and the youngest general the Geystahlian empire had ever known.
That was until they’d thrown her away like trash the moment she’d tried to put a stop to Kefka’s murderous schemes. Then she was sentenced to execution. She’d always wondered if the emperor himself had signed the order or if Kefka had pulled some kind of strings to have it done before news reached the emperor’s ears. It all would have come to the same end, of course, but the thought did arise every now and then when her mind was clear and such speculations were released from their usual prison.
After some time, Celes reached that level. Her body acted on instinct. Her mind was free to roam. Celes had hoped that such a state would give her some clarity on matters relating to Terra. She’d hoped that she would come up with some plan or another, some way to reach her, or at the very least some way to start a conversation. It didn’t though. Instead, she was left to brood, her strikes becoming more aggressive the deeper she trudged through old memories and vague suspicions until it reached the guilt at the bottom of it all.
Kefka wouldn’t have gone mad if it wasn’t for you, it whispered like a demon in her ear. Everything is all your fault.
”It has been far too long, Celes.”
Somehow, impossibly, the voice took her off guard. She stopped, blinking as she slowly comprehended the familiar, bird-like voice that came behind her. She bit her tongue. This was not how she’d imagined it would go what with the sweat spots under her arms and trailing down her back with her bangs plastered to her forehead. Still, she’d come for a reason and that reason was here. So she sheathed her sword, took a breath, and turned around to face her. In all her years of combat, she’d faced far more terrifying than this.
Hadn’t she?
She wasn’t sure as she took in the woman in front of her. Terra was elegant as always in her red silk dress trimmed in gold and embroidered with intricate patterns. She was light and almost ethereal, feminine in a way that Celes could only dream of. Her hand was her lips, her deep violet eyes welling with unshed tears. Celes nearly took a step back at the sight of her, looking like that. On the verge of tears. Meeting with Terra was one thing. Meeting with a crying Terra was another.
What was she supposed to say to that?
”Terra, I…” Celes hesitated. ”I…I’m sorry.”
Those were the first words out of her mouth. She wasn’t thinking. The sight of the other woman’s tears, nearly ready to fall brought something out in her, a surge of emotion that took over her mouth before she could stop it.
”I shouldn’t have left you. I was in a bad place back then, still thinking that this must have been one of Kefka’s tricks. I didn’t know…Oh, and then I never even thought to look for you! You must think I don’t care at all, but it’s all been so confusing, I could just…”
Celes took a deep breath. She wasn’t allowed to feel such things. Not so strongly and not in public. She was a soldier, a general with a heart as cold as ice.
Except for with Locke. Or her grandpa Cid. Or…
She shook her head. ”I could just…scream.” Her lips twitched at the thought of it. There was Celes and there was Terra and there was a full yard of recruits that she’d put years of effort whipping into shape. What would they think if she just started shrieking out her nerves and anxiety and confusion? It’d be quite a deal harder to convince them to respect her afterwards, that was for sure.
Celes stepped forward, closing the distance between them until she could reach out and touch her which she did, placing an uncertain hand on Terra’s shoulder. ”I’m sorry,” she said more sincerely this time, trying her best to meet the other woman’s eye. ”And…I’m glad you’re here. Truly.”
The thought played on repeat, again and again as Celes wrapped up her business in Provo, carefully placed the remaining flyers and other job search paraphernalia in a storage closet, wrote a letter to Yuna explaining the situation, and then rented a chocobo. An airship would have been faster, and everything in her urged her to take the next ship out of port, but she had to remind herself that Terra wasn’t going anywhere (most likely, at least) and that it was better to save the gil now than to regret it later.
Life in the military had taught her many things. That she was useless if she wasn’t producing results. That her best results could be achieved with a sword in her hand. It had taught her to be assertive and cold and difficult to reach, but it had also taught her patience and frugality. Some of those lessons had been more useful than others.
The journey took two weeks thanks to the springtime rains and muddy roads. She was almost glad to reach the blistering heat past Torensten’s border where the palm trees swayed and bushes grew rampant with strange tropical fruit she still couldn’t identify. The sunlight was brutal as the sun reached its apex, and she had no choice but to find the best shade she could in the withered dry season and let her chocobo rest. It was at those times with her back against a tree trunk, watching the bird preen its feathers and lap up whatever water it could from the scattered puddles about the place that the thoughts struck Celes like merciless ocean waves.
Terra was here, they said. Terra was here all along, and you did nothing to find her.
It had been years since they’d last met. It must have been…nearly four years since they’d last promised to meet up again soon. Then Chaos had struck Torensten and Celes had found herself thrust back in a whirlwind of her own panic and isolation. She’d taken solace in another soldier who had saved her from the flames of a collapsing building, but then he too was gone and she’d found herself alone again. Alone until she’d found Caius. The Dragonblades. By the end of it all, she could have sworn her meeting with Terra had been nothing more than a dream.
A vivid dream. A dream like all the others. She’d wake up in the night certain she’d met Edgar on a beach somewhere and had run to him, thrusting her arms around him in her loneliness and relief only for reality to sink in that she was once again in her apartment in Torensten, alone. She’d dreamt that she’d found Relm in the marketplace and that she’d had to learn, somehow, how to care for a child on her own and that she’d proven a terrible cook. Strangest of all, she dreamt of a crashed airship on the outskirts of the city which proved to be Setzer’s transformed into a grounded casino to swindle a little more gil out of those passing by. All of them dreams. All of them gone like a wisp of smoke when her eyes opened and her mind caught up to her and she realized that she was truly alone outside of those who couldn’t possibly understand her.
She hadn’t been ready for that kind of companionship when she’d met Terra nearly four years prior. She’d gone her own way, half-convinced that everything she was experiencing was nothing but a hopeful nightmare to torment her as part of Kefka’s deranged fun. She hadn’t been in her right mind. And so when she hadn’t heard a thing of Terra in all that time…When the dreams of the others were always so very real…
You forgot about her, the thoughts sneered. You always have a habit of forgetting Terra.
Then she’d silence the thoughts with a shake of her head, saddle her chocobo, and be on her way.
She felt slightly nauseous by the time she approached the city’s edge. What was she going to say to Terra? What even could she say? It sounded as though the half-esper woman had spent the last several years out of control in her monstrous state which certainly seemed like something that someone would have seen and sent through a chain of city gossip, but then again, maybe Terra had flown off to somewhere secluded. This world had no shortage of wilderness to nestle into if one were so inclined. She couldn’t help but imagine Terra, glowing pink with her own inherent power, curled naked and alone amongst taiga forests of the Sonoran wilderness. Even if Celes had remembered her, even if she’d sent out every search party imaginable, they wouldn’t have had a chance of crossing paths there.
But what was she supposed to say? After all this time, that was the real question.
Celes was welcomed warmly by some at the Wyvern’s Rest and coolly by others. That was the way it always was. Some recruits took her harsh instruction well while others still had pride that needed breaking. Oh well. She said her hellos and strode up to the front desk where the secretary Caius had hired (what was her name – Tamatoa?) looked up from her work and greeted her without much surprise. Celes’ letter must have arrived before she did.
”Caius is out,” the secretary said. ”He left this for you.” She slid a letter towards her, and Celes opened it, frowning.
”Oh.” The letter didn’t take long to read. She learned, for one thing, that the secretary’s name was Tomoe and that Caius expected to be gone for some time. She also learned that Terra had a room here now, and she tensed wondering if she’d be interrupted at any moment while she was still uncertain what to say. The rest was more of Caius’ wishful thinking as far as Celes was concerned. Courtyard reinforcements? For what? If someone was capable of fighting a god then they didn’t need any more training as far as she was concerned. It was a waste of money and resources, but that was a matter for another time. A time when Caius was in front of her again and they could argue like they always tended to when it came to the Dragonblades. He had skill, charisma, and a boundless stride towards expansion. She had actual administrative and military experience. These tendencies were often set to collide, and she didn’t look forward to breaking the news that once again she disagreed with his priorities.
He also wanted her to check in on his new friends, but that could wait until she’d settled in. Because Terra was here. If not in this building at the moment then certainly she’d be back before nightfall. Celes’ stomach churned at the thought. Anxiety, guilt, anticipation. Those were just the first emotions she could identify before she gave up entirely. She didn’t ask if Terra was here, now, at this moment, but instead folded up the letter and strode outside to the courtyard where, true to Caius’ written words, some of the more senior recruits were running drills. They looked up at her in surprise as she approached, but she just unsheathed her sword and took to a corner by herself. She felt better with the weight of the runic blade in her hand. As she adjusted her stance and struck the practice dummy before her, it felt easy. Natural. After a quarter of an hour of this, she shrugged off her yellow jacket to keep the heat at bay and continued, striking again and again just as she’d been taught so that the panic wouldn’t creep in and destroy her.
Terra was here. Celes had come. Now the only question was who would find who first.
[attr=class,bulk] Celes’ lips twitched as Alex referred to her as a “love-stuck maiden.” No. She would not take the bait. She wouldn’t take it.
The rest was all unintelligible gibberish from him, the same as she’d come to expect while he spoke to Monori. But he just had to throw in that little barb at the end, didn’t he? Celes was out here, sleep-deprived and exhausted and trying to do some good, and Alex was intent on playing a game which only he could identify. If she took the bait, if she said so much as a word back to him then she would lose by default. So she would ignore him.
With every ounce of her strength, she would ignore him.
Monori, for her part, looked…not uncomfortable, exactly, but at least a tad bit awkward for which Celes could hardly blame her. She’d come expecting a job fair. Instead, she’d been placed in the middle of some kind of ongoing feud. No matter how Celes tried to keep matters to the topic at hand, there was no denying the hostility on Alex’s hand. Celes couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. First she’d been called a fraud and now this…
Celes had no idea what Monori said to Alex, but it sounded like exactly the sort of thing that she’d have said herself if given the chance. Though Celes might have added in a few “how dare you”s and “are you compensating for something?”s into the mix.
What Monori said might strike him harder though considering they obviously both knew what the other meant by it all. So Celes would have to vicariously experience the animalistic woman’s satisfaction secondhand.
”Take it,” she said to Alex as he picked up one of her worst written flyers. She still had others. Seventeen of them by her count. ”Maybe you’ll find yourself in need of work soon.”
Was it a low blow? Maybe. But Celes wasn’t in the mood to play nice. She might have been a professional, but there was nothing she’d said that had been anything but. She had no qualms with making an enemy of Alexander Sorel. She’d dealt with more credible clowns before.
