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year 5, quarter 3
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[attr=class,bulk] Celes felt a little bad for the kid now if she was being honest. Now that her heart was no longer pounding and she could finally breathe it became quickly apparent just how scared he was of them. Mu and his…assistant certainly weren’t helping with that.
”Come on, kid. Surely somebody here has gotta know something.”
”N-no! If anyone here is trapping anyone it would be you!”
The boy gave one last wild look at the floating demon on Mu’s shoulder before he scrambled into the next room, practically tripping over himself as he went.
”Do you think I scared him?” the demon asked. Celes sighed. What was her life anymore?
”Well. That could have gone better.” The room was somewhat shabbier than she’d thought at first glance now that she had a chance to really look at it. The peeling wallpaper was plastered over thin boards that hardly looked like walls. The floor was somewhat uneven as though it had been installed in a hurry, and were those cobwebs…fake?
Mu suggested that they move on and Celes was about to agree when they were both interrupted by a terrible scraping along the floor. Celes blinked as she watched the table move.
”What?” She took a step back, staring as the table, chairs, and candlesticks all lifted of their own accord. The furniture threw itself across the doorway like a barricade. The candles glowed brighter, their flames flickering wildly as they hovered in a ritualistic circle above their heads. Celes’ eyes narrowed.
The boy might have only been an actor playing pretend, but this was real. There was no other way to interpret it.
The haunted house truly was, well, haunted.
”It has to be ghosts,” Celes said, glancing at Mu. The ninja was quite intelligently pulling his sword. Celes did the same. ”If it doesn’t want us to leave then we’ll just have to cut our way through. Though I don’t know how much good a sword will do against a table.” She ran through her own mental spell list. She specialized in ice magic personally, and somehow she didn’t think that freezing it was the best idea.
She kept her eyes instead on the candles. Now those looked like they could be frozen. If they tried anything funny that was.
She glanced at the man beside her. ”Do you have any ideas?”
[attr=class,bulk] Celes felt a twinge of guilt as Yuna argued her thoughts on the broken leg. She looked, well, hurt might not have been the right word, but it was close. Celes could see every hour she’d spent worrying over the man, every sleepless moment trying desperately to keep him from falling off the edge. She looked both young and old at once. She reminded Celes a little of herself, actually, which only made her feel worse.
But her doubts could wait. A man’s life was on the line, and they had very little time for conversation.
”That’s fine,” she said though not having access to a blood transfusion wasn’t fine, really. It was a death sentence. ”I wouldn’t know what to do without the proper donor blood anyway. I don’t know how to test for type.”
She was a soldier, not a medic, and while she had plenty of training in first aid, she hadn’t exactly gone to medical school. They’d rely on magic then. Maybe between the two of them it would be enough.
Yuna cast curaga. Celes wondered how many times she’d done that today.
”It isn’t urgent,” Celes said before casting the same. In comparison to Yuna, Celes’ spell was dull and ineffective. Yuna was a master of her craft, weaving curative magic like silk. Celes’ talents had been forged from necessity, just one branch in a tree of skills planted to keep herself alive. She hoped it would be enough to be of assistance at least.
”I know this is sudden. I should have sent a letter ahead of me, but I didn’t have much time to think it through. I needed time away from Torensten, and I thought…Well. I thought that maybe I could be of some help here.”
Apparently she’d been right about that. Whether Celes’ magic was strong enough to help this man or not, it was obvious that Yuna needed someone here to help her. She needed someone to run the lobby, another healer, perhaps a nurse of some kind…
But she was getting ahead of herself. She had a mind for strategy. She couldn’t help it.
”But we can talk about that once he’s stable.” Celes glanced at Yuna, frowning. ”I’m glad I came when I did.”
[attr=class,bulk] Celes had no idea what she’d done wrong.
She didn’t know, but she knew that she’d offended this man somehow. He made that fairly obvious in his response. He tilted his head at her, smirking, as he insisted on calling her a hero. His lips tightened and he went on about remembering the people here as though he had some kind of personal connection. It struck Celes then that maybe he did. Or maybe…
No, it was stupid to speculate. It was just as likely that the man was just being rude for the sake of it.
But he wasn’t being rude in a way that she could easily pinpoint and shove back in his face. It was all very frustrating.
”I think they should be able to live for themselves, honestly,” she said even though she had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t looking for an answer from her. He was going off like a philosopher, and Celes had no idea why. ”Glorifying people leads to glorifying a country and then you can get everyone to do whatever you want.”
Like die in a war, for instance. Or subjugate a neighboring kingdom for the sake of progress.
This was not something she’d wanted to talk about today.
Thankfully, the strange shadow of a man actually told him what he wanted after that. Unfortunately, it left her with more questions than answers.
”What did you want to ask the king?”
That was certainly strange. What would a king know specifically, and why did this man think he could just walk right in and ask him? On a normal day, Celes might have been happy to help someone lost and in search of certain answers, but this man was acting so condescending in a way that made her want to be as difficult as possible in return.
Patience. There was no need to be rude. She just had to grit her teeth, last a little longer, and then she could go home.
”Well, I don’t know anything about legends or stories. I’m not from here. I’m from, well, another world, I guess.” Even after years of this nonsense, it still felt strange to say it out loud. She hoped that she was never thrust back into the ruined place she came from, but if she was then who would ever believe her?
”But the Kraken attacked about six months ago. The whole city was almost swept up in a hurricane. I stayed behind to help with the evacuation while my friend went out to slay it. Which is why they want a statue made of him, I suppose.” Her lips soured. ”The ship they were on was torn in two. Almost everyone on board died, but they managed to kill the beast before it could finish the job. The survivors boarded a lifeboat, and that was that.”
She’d been worried sick about him, to be honest, and the king had kept him late in order to shower him in gratitude and honor. He’d come back somewhere around two in the morning, drenched to the bone, shaking with hollowed eyes. That was the part that couldn’t be carved into a statue. There was a steep price to be paid by so-called heroes.
”There are people who work here if you want to know more about history. I couldn’t tell you myself.”
[attr=class,bulk] Mu took her side. Good. Celes was still breathing a little unsteadily, adrenaline pulsing through her from panic that refused to settle. She didn’t like being startled like that. It brought out all kinds of reflexes from her years at war and the time after Kefka which she really, really preferred not to think about. It made her think for just one split moment that she was back again and an enemy soldier was about to take aim or maybe there would be a crack from the sky and a flash of blinding light as a ray of judgment hurtled towards her and-
Celes took a deep breath. She needed to ground herself.
She was here, in this house, with the floorboards creaking beneath her feet and strange moaning sounds coming from the walls. She was here, smelling dust and mothballs and the heavy smell of paint plastered on the boy’s face. Mu was squared up beside her, asking questions with only a tinge of impatience. One of them was directed at her.
”Huh?” Celes looked at him and the words of that question slowly processed one after the other until it clicked into place. ”Oh. Oh, yes. I can heal…”Get it together.”I can heal him. One moment.”
She looked at the boy closer. His nose was…definitely broken. And bleeding rather badly. Perhaps she’d overreacted? Celes bit her tongue. ”Well, first I’ll have to set it if he doesn’t want it crooked for the rest of his life. Let me see.”
After what she’d done the boy didn’t want her anywhere near him, and all attempts to approach him just had him scrambling away, hands over his nose, eyes teared up with pain as blood streamed down his face. Celes felt a twinge of guilt, seeing him so pitiful. She thought she picked up phrases like “stay away” and “don’t touch it,” but it was really hard to say.
She steeled herself. The boy had every right to be afraid of her, but honestly, this was getting ridiculous. ”Hold still. It will only hurt a moment.” She grabbed him by the shoulders, forced his hands away, and grabbed his nose. He might have been fighting her, but she had experience on battlefields, and this kind of thing was an easy fix. One sickening crack later and the boy gave out a pained howl as his nose was, thankfully, straight again.
Celes let him go, took a step back, and clasped her hands together. She didn’t need more than a simple cure spell so that was all she cast. The boy’s howling dulled to a low whimper as the bones healed and the pain faded. Well, that was enough of that.
”There. Feeling better?”
The boy stared at her in shock. ”You punched me!”
”Well you shouldn’t have snuck up on me like that.”
”This is a haunted house!”
”All the more reason not to scare people. We’re here for the ghosts?”
The boy looked at her like she was the dumbest woman alive which of course only made her more irritable. She looked at Mu in exasperation before looking back at the boy and repeating Mu’s question. ”Do you know why no one has been coming out of this house?” She glanced down the next hallway, but couldn’t see more than a few feet into the gloom before it hit another sharp turn. ”We hope no one’s been spirited away.”
[attr=class,bulk] Celes quickly realized that she’d made a terrible mistake.
The man looked amused by her question if only in the most bitter of ways. He wasn’t an esper. He made that extremely clear, and then went on, telling her that he was an elf, if she had to know, and while she had no idea what that was, from the way that he emphasized that he was a “dark elf” specifically, it seemed like she’d offended him. Celes blinked at him. ”Oh no, that's not…”
Not what she'd approached him to ask. She'd wanted to know if he was an esper specifically, but he seemed to think she'd bothered him only because he wasn't human. With his strange appearance, that must have been common for idiots like her. Was he used to being chased around for it? It seemed so, if he’d thought to preface all of it with a warning about her “light-washed heroism.”
He gave her his name with a bow. How very formal of him.
”Celes Chere,” she returned with a wary nod. She still had no idea what was happening or why. All she knew was that she’d made a mistake, and she had the feeling that he was making her pay for it.
”If I may take my turn at this guessing game,” he went on. ”May I assume you’re a hero of some sort?” He pointed out her sword and then, before she could object, told her that he was actually in need of a hero, and she was left entirely uncertain of what to say.
On the one hand, she didn’t like the way that he was looking at her. Something about his movements, his voice, his words, all of it warned of ill-intent. On the other hand, that might have just been her own bias talking, and hadn’t she been the one to approach him? She remembered how the espers were feared. Their power, their history, and their monstrous appearances were enough to set the world against them until every last one of them was killed for the needs of weak men. Could this man, Astos, have faced the same?
She didn’t know. But it was enough of a reason to ignore her instincts and do what she could to help. For now.
’May I assume you’re a hero of some sort?’
Celes let out a long sigh. ”You know, I’ve always hated that word,” she said. ”This whole place is so…well, up its own ass, to be honest.” She gave a short laugh. ”Do these men deserve to be remembered? Maybe. But all this? It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
She was avoiding the question, wasn’t she?
”If you need a job done, I can help you. Maybe I would have been busy today, but…” She gestured at the hall of heroes behind her. ”Well. Let’s say the king had other plans. So it’s not a bother, really.” She tried for a smile. ”What do you need?”
[attr=class,bulk] Celes was not having the best day.
It started well enough. Just an average morning, a little colder than usual and heavy with morning dew. The Wyvern’s Rest was quiet when she’d opened up shop, and she had time to think. She wanted to put in some flowers before she left for Provo later that week. But what? And would she really have time? She was surveying the yard, planning out the spacing for the lilacs, when she was interrupted by a chime at the door.
It was, to her surprise, a royal emissary for King Hremit. And he was not particularly interested in explaining why he’d come.
”There’s no emergency, ma’am. I just need a representative of the Dragonblades to sign off on official business.”
”That would be me. But what do you need-?”
”It’s really a matter that should be done in person. Do you have any preference in time?”
”Now is fine, but where are we-?”
Celes wasn’t given a chance to ask her question. Apparently it was confidential. She really hated working with the government.
Along the way, she told the man her name, position, and exactly why she was qualified to speak for the Dragonblades as a whole. Unsurprisingly, he’d never heard of her. She couldn’t have cared less, really, except that he kept asking about Caius. Where was he now? When would he be back? Should he come and ask him instead? Celes assured with increasing impatience that she’d do just fine. The threat in her voice must have gotten through to him because he stopped asking.
He led her to the Grand Hall of all places, and Celes felt a growing dread as she started up the polished stone steps to the entryway. There were banners hung about advertising the newest archaeological exhibits displaying Torensten’s glorious history, and she hoped beyond all hope that this wasn’t going where she thought it was.
She held onto that hope until they entered the hall of heroes and he led her past the other shining golden statues to the back room and Celes got a good look at the tiny model figure of a statue in progress and she pressed her hand to her mouth to smother whatever expletive was trying to escape it.
’Oh for fuck’s sake…’
”We have a few different designs,” the emissary said as he gestured between the models. ”Here we have Caius in his classic dragonscale armor wielding his main gunblade, and in this one he’s double-wielding with his shortblade. Our artists were torn on how to depict his dragon. We have a full model here, whereas this rendition has the dragon more as a creative motif. What do you think?”
Celes stared at the models in rising horror. ”Do you…really want to know what I think?”
The man looked at her expectantly, clipboard raised. Celes bit her lip.
’Be nice.’
”I don’t think…that Caius would really care between them.” Nor did she think that he would ever want something like this, but she kept that to herself. ”Is this really necessary? It all seems like…a lot.”
“The king has ordered it personally. He wants to honor the slayers of the Kraken.”
”And he can’t be…dissuaded?”
He could not. The king’s orders were absolute, apparently. So Celes had no choice but to spend the next four hours approving this design but not that design, giving her opinion on every last detail, and reading page after page of slightly different text for the plaque. She told him what she knew of Caius’ life, about the formation of the Dragonblades (where her name was mentioned exactly once), and about Vordun and the Kingsglaive and everything else she could think of. By the time the man was nearly satisfied, it was mid afternoon, Celes was exhausted, and it was all she could do to insist that yes, she really did have other things to do today, and so if she could please be on her way, they could follow up with Caius later.
The man was still hounding her as she escaped into the entry hall.
”I forgot to ask, what are the names of Caius’ swords?”
”Itamen and Isp. If you’ll excuse me…”
”And he started the Dragonblades how long ago?”
”We started it one and a half years ago. If you have any other questions, you can ask him yourself.”
The loathsome man took a few more assurances before finally he thanked her and went back to the statue room and she was left alone in the entrance hall, and she finally let out a long, beleaguered sigh. As well as a few of the curses that had pent up over the last several hours. She rubbed at the beginnings of a headache in her right temple.
If ever she’d needed a confirmation that leaving the city would be best for her, she’d gotten it today. She couldn’t wait to hit the road and start a new life in Provo for a while. Then maybe she could get out from under Caius’ shadow.
She was so frustrated that it took her a moment to realize that something was amiss, but she had a certain sense for suspicious behavior and a stronger one for when she was being watched. So Celes looked up and saw what she thought at first to be a monster, but no sooner had she tensed for her sword when she realized that it was, in fact, a man. He stood uncertainly by a rack of brochures, rake thin and clad in black robes and almost unthinkably tall. He wasn’t human, that much was made clear even before she noticed his pointed ears and lavender hair. But what was he…?
Celes caught herself staring.
She wasn’t afraid of him, and he hadn’t given her any reason to think that he was up to something troublesome. This was a public museum, after all, and there wasn’t much to do but learn. But she couldn’t help but wonder…
She had to ask him a question.
Celes steeled herself and started towards him, perhaps against her better judgment. It wasn’t likely that her instincts were correct – it might have even been offensive – but if she was right then maybe…
Celes approached him with an uncertain smile. ”I’m sorry to bother you,” she said. ”But you wouldn’t happen to be an esper, would you?”
It wasn’t likely. She knew that. But she couldn’t shake the feeling.
[attr=class,bulk] The first thing that struck Celes as she walked in the door was the smell of blood. It made her shoulders tense as she reached for her sword, but she stopped when she realized that she wasn’t alone. The entrance hall of the building had been turned into a kind of lobby with chairs and benches crowded along the walls, and most were quite occupied. She saw a bereaved woman in the corner who looked like she was holding back tears, a pained looking pain grasping his arm with white knuckles, a man who seemed to have nothing wrong with him at all and-
Was that frog wearing a cloak?
Yuna’s voice called out from behind the curtain, curt and strained. ”I’ll be right with you! If you could take a sea-” Yuna’s face peeked through the gap and their eyes met. Yuna’s widened with recognition. ”Celes?”
Celes tried for a smile. ”Yuna. I hope you’re not too busy. I’m sorry for not sending word sooner…”
But Yuna didn’t seem to care about that. Her eyes were bright as she came out to meet her, talking idly about how she should have made up a room for her, but none of that particularly held Celes’ attention when Yuna was dripped with blood.
Her hands were streaked with it like she’d tried and failed to wipe it off. Her skirt, usually a cool violet, was stained the color of elderberries. That would explain the smell. It also made Celes wonder as to the state of whoever she had behind that curtain.
Somewhere between the staring and the woman in the corner breaking out into a sharp sob, Yuna must have realized how she looked because she gasped and disappeared behind the curtain again. Then she called for Celes’ help.
This was…not what she’d expected.
”Oh. Yes. Alright.” Celes hesitantly placed her sword and bag by the wall and followed her. The scene in front of her was, sadly, familiar.
She’d seen it on battlefields and in the cramped gloom of medical tents. She knew it well enough to know on instinct that Yuna’s efforts were in vain. The man was shaking and ashen. He’d lost too much blood. On the field, they might have moved on from him to someone with better odds, but this was a healer’s office not a warzone, and this was Yuna not some harried doctor serving the will of the Geystahlian empire. And so she finished her ether and looked at Celes with earnest eyes.
”Do you think you could hold him down while I set his leg?
Yuna was in her element, a healer with a job to do. Celes felt herself shift into her own form of professionalism. There would be time for awkward conversation later.
”I don’t think his leg is the problem.” Celes looked at the man and tried to find something hopeful to say. She didn’t have anything except that perhaps her past experiences with dying men perhaps could have been changed had the doctor’s had access to curative magic. Maybe her instincts were wrong.
Maybe.
”We don’t need to put him under any more stress. The leg can wait. We should focus on stabilizing him.” Yuna was the expert in these things, she knew, but this was a war wound and Celes knew those well enough. She also knew what stress could do to a person’s judgment. She unstrapped her armor, piling them in the corner, before walking over to the somewhat bloodied wash basin to clean her hands of any dirt and debris she’d picked up on the road.
”Do you know his blood type? He needs a transfusion, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s internal bleeding. It would be too dangerous to operate unless we can find a donor.” She dried off her hands on the bloodied towel and looked at Yuna decisively. ”Or I can help you pour magic into him and we hope for the best. I’ll follow your lead.”
[attr=class,bulk] So even Mu didn’t know what the thing floating over his shoulder was. That was…troubling. Still, he didn’t seem to mind the horned goblin creature looming over him like a shadow so Celes tried not to either. She really tried, but how on earth was she supposed to feel comfortable with that thing in her peripheral vision?
”Are the two of you…close?” she asked because she couldn’t think of anything else to ask. Apparently Mu was only here because the goblin had wanted to come. Why had the goblin wanted to come? Did it have some particular love of apples and gourds?
Celes was shaken. She hated to admit it, but that thing had her guard thrown and they hadn’t even gone five steps inside the place yet. Celes took a deep breath and tried to center herself again. She had a job to do after all.
They moved on. The next room was, well, calling it a room felt a little too charitable. It was a small, square, closet-like space that connected the two hallways on either side. There were no windows and there were no doors, just the flickering candles set into their holders on the walls. It was eerie, really, and Celes became suddenly aware of just how much space there was to hide in a place like this. The space might not have been large, but it was crammed full of tarnished furniture that looked to be at least a hundred years old.
There was a slow creaking sound as they approached that grew louder, clacking again and again in an increasingly intense rhythm. The table was…moving?
Celes frowned, glanced at Mu, and then cautiously approached. She felt suddenly exposed without her armor. It was just her in her yellow jacket with her hair pulled back and a sword at her waist, but if something came at her from behind…
It happened so quickly that she didn’t process it at first. There was the creak of a floorboard, the flash of movement to her right and then a horrible, gut-wrenching scream and she shrieked and twisted herself to face a figure with graying skin, hollowed cheeks, and pale eyes far, far too close-
And she punched it.
She punched it straight in the nose.
The ghastly wailing cut off abruptly into a sharp curse as the figure stumbled back, hand slapped to its face as though trying to quell the river of blood streaking from its nose and down its chin. Staggered like that, Celes now saw that it wasn’t a ghost, but a man. Or a teenage boy, rather. Celes drew herself up, panic turning quickly to indignation.
”Why did you sneak up on me?” she asked, and the boy gave a pained moan and said something that she couldn’t make out through his nasal blubbering. Celes glanced sharply at Mu and then back at the boy. ”Well I hope you’ve learned a lesson!”
She probably should have, she realized only now, standing in front of the entrance to the Dragonblades headquarters in Provo. She should have sent Yuna a letter ahead of her, letting her know that she’d be coming and that she hoped to stay a while. It was more proper that way, and then Yuna would have had time to prepare. Instead, Celes had left without a thought about it and had, over the course of an extremely eventful week, found her way here. In front of the Provo headquarters. With no choice but to make an extremely rude arrival.
Celes didn’t know Yuna particularly well. They’d met, of course, and she’d heard all about Yuna’s exploits with Caius, but they were more friends of friends rather than friends of each other. They were acquaintances at best, and Celes was about to ask a lot of her.
Why hadn’t she thought to send a letter?
People were passing by. Some of them paused to look at her. She realized that she was somewhat suspicious, loitering around still dressed for combat with her armor on display and her sword at her hip. She looked a lot less out of place on the streets of Torensten where mercenaries and adventurers were a common sight. Here, the people were a lot slower paced. They were less concerned with matters of war or violence or disaster. And here she was, a product forged by all of those things, completely and utterly out of her depth.
Well, she wasn’t going to get anywhere by standing here. So she steeled herself, took a breath, and started towards the door.
She didn’t bother knocking. The building might have been unassuming, but it wasn’t a private residence, and she always hated when clients waited at the door of the Wyvern’s Rest rather than coming in and saving her the trouble of opening it for them. The door was, predictably, unlocked and she entered without any trouble.
”Hello?” she called as she closed the door behind her. ”Yuna? I hope I’m not intruding…” She also hoped that Yuna was, in fact, here. She hadn’t heard of anyone else working out of this location, but she’d had her hands too full with business in Torensten to really pay attention to Yuna’s work in general.
Which was another mistake now that she thought of it.
Post by Celes Chere on Mar 20, 2022 9:36:44 GMT -6
Positive: As a co-founder of the Dragonblades, Celes and Caius are the closest thing that Torenten has to fulltime heroes. She has an extensive list of accomplishments under her belt from slaying behemoths to exorcising malicious ghosts to her ongoing battle against the gang of bandits plaguing the region. Celes has devoted her life to making the world a safer place and will never turn down those in need of help -- assuming the request isn't frivolous, of course.
Positive: While Caius is known more for his monster slaying, Celes is one to stay behind during a disaster to try to aid those around her from the wreckage, ruin, and debris. She was there healing the wounded and helping with the evacuation when Chaos appeared over Torensten to rend it in two. She was there helping victims of the Reignstorm during the flooding in Provo and later she nearly drowned saving a child from the flooding in Torensten when a nearby levy broke in the midst of Kraken's attack. More than a few people directly owe her their lives.
Negative: Celes is known as a merciless instructor, driving would-be Dragonblades recruits into the dirt and refusing to give them even mid-level missions until they've earned her approval. Disgruntled dropouts have spread word that she hates men in particular and takes a kind of sadistic pleasure out of punishing them. On the field, she's as ruthless as she is cold, and her enemies would very much like to see her taken down a peg.
Negative: Celes is many things. Beautiful, determined, strong. What she isn't is available, and she turns down every man's proposition with almost excessive cruelty. This has given her a reputation as a heartbreaker which can often be heard grumbled by humiliated men after a few pints at the tavern.
False: Celes is an unbreakable ice queen who hates men and so it stands to reason that Caius must have earned her loyalty by taming her frosty heart with the heat of romance. Celes is in love with the womanizing mercenary and has gladly joined his battle harem as his primary romantic partner.
