The Final Fantasy (A FF-based Fic)

[DANdotW]

A repost, technically, but I've changed parts of it and rewritten chunks, too. Hope you guys like it!

*****

Prologue

The wind whipped the girl’s hair as the older male jumped back and lifted a broadsword into the air, pointed at her. His head flipped back, urging her to come at him.

“If you think I’m going to fall for that,” she began, “you can kiss my ***!”

With quick realisation, Kella covered her mouth in an attempt to pull the words she had uttered back into her sun-kissed lips, but failed. Her mentor’s face instantly turned bright red as the veins in his neck began to bulge.

“How dare you curse in front of me!”

He lunged at her with the broadsword made from iron, which he wielded at the hilt with two hands. She barely had time to react, and, upon seeing the size difference between the sword and her two small daggers, just managed to jump to the side in time.

Her weapons weren’t even proper daggers. As she and her master were living in the poor district of Fayte, one of the most beautiful, and yet most diverse, cities in the world of Callamoore, they were both rather poor themselves. Her blades were simply that, sharpened pieces of metal with leather strapped around the bottoms in the guise of handles.

Kella twisted to the right as the sword, which was longer than her own body, plunged into a wicker basket behind her. She looked to the floor, following a thick lock of her thick blonde hair. This angered her greatly, and she lacked the skills to hide that.

Alexander revelled in being the only person in the small and cramped district they lived in able to keep his emotions hidden, and yet this made him smile. The redness in his face had faded slightly, and his brown eyes were no longer as diminished as they had been a moment ago.

Being an accomplished warrior, training for many decades of his life, Alexander had become stronger than even the average Royal Knight, and he never failed to prove that to her.

“You cut off my hair, Alexander!” Kella shouted, jumping at him with her two daggers held outwards in an attempt to strike, but was shoved away by the flat of his large blade, simply with a small twist of his arm.

He always impressed her.

“I guess I wouldn’t know the difference, being bald as I am,” he said in his usual passive, calm voice. “You will learn respect one day, Kella. Nine years, you’ve been training with me in this wretched place, and yet you still cling to those daggers we made so long ago.”

“I like them,” she replied, sliding them into their small sheaths, crossing over each other on her lower back.

“I can make you new ones.”

This was true. Alexander was one of the best blacksmiths she had seen, although she had not met many. He had created his own armour plates and the thick blade he wielded. He refused, however, to create even the smallest bracers for Kella until she had mastered not only the basics, but had mastered a whole range of stances and techniques across different weapons.

Since she was never parted from her beloved daggers, she hadn’t given him the chance to improve her on anything else, apart from taking care of her hair, or in this case, trimming it against her will. He had shown her that although he was bald, a warrior could take advantage of their hair whether it was short of long.

Weeks had been spent improving her skill of throwing the large body of thick strands of hair into an opponent’s face before attacking them. It was a slightly dirty trick, but anything that could help Kella win in a bout made her happy.

“I don’t want any yet,” she retorted, sticking her tongue out.

She took a second to look at his smooth face and completely ripped body. There was no more than a family relationship between them, despite the fact they were not related in any way, and yet this was the man she loved.

At fifty-four, he had thirty-five winters more experience in life and love than her.

He had once told her of his wife and their child. The pictures he had shown her in Memory Spheres renewed his love for her every time he looked at them, and Kella could only agree. The woman was beautiful, and their child was the perfect combination of their features.

This was the man she loved. As her father. As her teacher. As her friend.

This was the man who was about to be taken away from her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Darkness gathered in the sky above the two fighters, yet try as Kella might, she could not look directly at it. It filled the sky until she was forced to look to the floor.

*****

Authors Note: Yeah...some of this was bogus, but to be honest even when I tried to change it it didn't flow or make sense afterwards. This sets the scene for the entire story to be honest; there are a lot of mysteries that are answered with more questions. Some aren't answered even where I've gotten to in the series. Lemme know what you think.

 

[DANdotW]

Chapter 1

“You can wake up now.”

Opening her eyes, Kella looked at her surroundings, and didn’t understand what she saw. There were plastic screens blocking her sight from any more than a metre away from her. As her grey eyes attempted to pierce the barrier, she saw a woman in a white robe behind the stiff bed she lay on.

This was what they called a white mage, a person skilled in using white magic.

“So they’ve finally sent a white mage to help in the gutters of Fayte then?” she asked, her attitude back despite whatever injury she may have received.

“You’re not in the slums, darling,” the woman told her, flicking her head so the white fringe that almost covered her eyes moved from under the thick material of the robe, “you’re in Extrav, the Royal City.”

Kella grunted in disgust. Alexander had taught her of Fayte’s Royal Family, and she agreed with his disapproval. If they fancied a hearty banquet and the larder was bare, taxes would go up, mainly in the poorer districts.

This way, the poor could never better themselves, and yet the rich refused to ever lessen themselves.

“Why am I here?”

“You were dropped in front of the hospital gates a few nights ago,” the mage said, surveying Kella’s oddly confused expression. “We assumed you’d know what had happened to you.”

Kella tried to remember, tried to think of what the last thing she could remember. She only remembered cursing at Alexander and nothing after that.

“I have no idea!” she bellowed, shocked at her minds refusal to show her any form of a flashback. She looked around the bed, and only now noticed she was wearing a long white bed-dress. “Where are my clothes?”

“You were found on the floor outside the gates in charred clothes,” the woman told her, adjusting the yellow hemming around her hood, “and any clothing that was left on you had burned off by the time we had arrived in the healing room.”

“And my daggers?”

“There were no weapons with you.”

There was silence for a while, until finally, after minutes of fidgeting, the white-clad woman reached for Kella’s head.

“What are you doing?” she asked, recoiling on instinct.

“I need to check under the bandages.”

There was no discomfort, but Kella suddenly became aware of tightness on top of her head. She allowed the mage to remove the woven bandages on her head and raised her hands.

“We’ve obviously healed it without scars,” the mage informed her, lowering herself onto the hard mattress Kella lay on, “but your hair was burned away.”

“I don’t understand,” Kella said, lying back down, her face blushing and her head racing. She had lost all memory of the last three and a half days, and had also lost her clothes, her hair, and her precious daggers. Those last remnants of Alexander until she could have found him.

“Was there a man with me?”

“I don’t understand,” the white mage said, standing up once more and gazing at her with her near-white eyes.

“The last thing I remember was being with my tutor, Alexander,” she told the woman, lifting up onto her elbow, “and surely it would have been him that dropped me off here, of any person.”

“Young lady, we don’t even know your name.” The nurse looked down at her, and for a split second, Kella thought it looked like disdain. “You arrived here alone, practically in the nude and burned beyond recognition. We’ve done the best we can with your body, but your memory is your own. We cannot tap into there.”

“Who was the man who told me to wake up earlier, then?”

“Nobody told you to wake up,” the mage told her, getting slightly agitated, “but I did attempt to wake you with my magic. It’s not been working since you got here, but I had to attempt it again. I don’t like to lose people.”

“Well I’ve lost someone, and yet I know where to find him.”

Kella looked around for anything she could use as a weapon if she had to. Alexander always taught her to be resourceful, as she may not always have her favoured tool of battle with her. She saw nothing but flowers, flat pillows and the mage. The injured warrior began to form a plan.

“Would you mind if I tested out my legs?”

“I suppose that would be fine,” the mage agreed, tightening the thick white rope around her waist, holding the thick material of the robe together.

It took a few seconds for Kella to get her balance back, but as soon as she had, she pushed the white mage’s hands away and walked forward alone.

“My name is Lea, by the way,” the woman said, not showing any sign of happiness on her face, despite the tone of her voice. “Will I know yours finally after three days of guessing?”

“You guessed what my name could be?”

“We’ve just been calling you Char, since you were so burnt.”

Kella chuckled aloud, and inside her heart was beating dramatically. Not only was it getting more and more difficult to keep walking alone, but also her plan was failing as she saw the rest of the building and began to think more.

It would be increasingly harder to escape after she left the hospital and into the Royal City.

As she felt her plan of using Lea as both bait and a weapon collapse around her, she heard a sound as if the building were also collapsing around her. And then she saw the doors.

She could feel the cool breeze from outside and her body was begging to leave, even in the flowing nightdress she wore. Then she stopped dead as three blurs of colour washed past her eyes and to her left, blocking her from the doors.

She looked the three women up and down and almost laughed. The tallest of the three was the tallest by far, and almost painfully thin. Her cheekbones stuck out past her eyes and if not for the scarlet armour covering her, Kella swore she would have been able to see both her ribs and spine through her pale skin.

The second in the line was shorter than Kella and squat. Rolls of fat seemed to squelch through the smallest of gaps in her navy armour plates, and she looked as if she had three faces on top of the other, each with a bigger chin.

As Kella looked at the third, she noticed she had to look down drastically to notice the girl in the mustard armour that hardly covered the younger girl’s skin, which was almost blue. Attached to the top of each of their helmets were what seemed to be the antenna of an insect.

“Magus Sisters attack!” they cried out in unison.

“Razzia!” the tallest and thinnest screamed, her shrill voice sounding elegant and regal.

“Passado!” cried the smallest, jumping in the air as she did, causing her small amounts of armour to clank on each other.

“Camisade!” the fat one roared, her whole body swinging with the movement of her head.

All three rushed at once, bearing their individual weapons. The tallest wielded a huge scythe, the blade made of a black metal Kella didn’t recognise. The fattest held two long daggers, made from clean silver, the type Kella had only seen on the suits of armour when the Royal Knights travelled through the slums out of necessity. Seeing them made her envious.

The youngest of the three ran with a long pole made of a strong-looking iron, with thicker segments at either end for attacking.

“Protect!” Lea screamed, fear showing on her face. Kella looked away from her face and saw all three women’s weapons had struck a transparent green barrier constructed with hexagon-shaped energy forms.

Lea held onto Kella’s arm and the younger girl could feel her shaking under the pressure. All three women attacking them were smirking in their own different, yet identical evil way. She heard a gasp leave the white mage’s mouth and saw her struggling with the amount of power these women were putting into their attacks.

The weapons began to glow.

“Delta…!” they chanted loudly, pushing harder and lower. The ground crumbled were the protective dome met it, and Kella felt Lea kneeling lower and lower, while her raised arm began to bend, with the once fierce green energy glow on her fingertips was now a pale olive tint.

“You need to run, Char!” she cried, tears of exhaustion streaming down the once pale woman’s bright pink face.

“…Attack!”

A plate at the side of the shield just big enough for Kella to fit through moved aside. Lea let go of her arm and pushed her towards it.

“Go.”

Kella obeyed the woman and leapt through the whole, sprinting towards the doors with the energy her adrenaline rush had given her. She felt intense pressure behind her and a pull on her body, but she made it out of the door. There was a loud and powerful explosion, and even in the night sky outside, Kella could see the smoke billowing from the building.

With tears running down her cheeks, she thanked the gods for what she assumed was Lea’s final moments in protecting her life.

She was much further away when she saw the three women leave the building and meet another figure in a yellow robe. Even with the keen eyesight she and Alexander shared, Kella couldn’t see the person’s face, or even if they were male or female. After a few words shared between the tallest woman and the robed figure, the three women evaporated into bright blue orbs.

“Char!” she heard screamed in an echo along the mountainous valley she now climbed for a better view. They had been talking about her.

Looking back, she saw the figure in the yellow robe had also disappeared, and all that was left was the destruction of the hospital and its thick white-painted cement walls. Now looking out of place in the buildings surrounding it that had not been destroyed, it was left to rot in the night.

She felt bad for Lea, and anyone else who had been in the building at the time. The three women had been so powerful, and had obviously intended on killing everyone in that building for whatever purpose. They must now be thinking of pursuing Kella to finish the job.

Her journey back to her home in the city’s slum was going to be a harder one than she had originally thought as she had lain in her hospital bed.

“Look’s like I’m going to have to rough it a little.”

She turned to the rising sun and followed the clearest trail along the stone valley towards the poorest part of the city, to find the man in her heart.

*****

Author's Note: Leah was such a nice character to write. She, along with one other early character, essentially rewrote the plot for me. Kella's character grows so much from this later on that it had to have an entire chapter dedicated to it. I hope you all enjoyed it ^_^

 

[DANdotW]

Chapter 2

The spring breeze of the morning felt odd on her now-bald head, and Kella now felt slightly nauseous as she walked for the second day. She hadn’t eaten once, and had only drunk what had been caught in large leaves.

As the young girl swayed further and further down the plain valley, only decorated with a small scattering of plants, she began to finally feel the extent of her injuries. Whilst she had been healed, there were still aches that she could only guess the origin of.

“Kweh!”

She recognised that sound. It was the sound a Chocobo made. In the slums, Chocobo were bred to make a profit, and although they were sold for almost nothing, they could be akin to gold dust to come by after the Royal Knights had taken their pick for the mounted forces.

This meant she was close to the breeding farms, or the markets in town.

As her salvation neared, Kella lost her footing and slipped down onto the hard floor. She couldn’t tell how long she was lying there for, not even having enough energy to lift her head off the ever-cooling rock floor.

It had become dark before she heard someone coming her way. She thanked the gods before stopping abruptly, wondering if it could be the women from the hospital coming back to find her.

Kella’s worries were gone as she turned her head to the side, seeing a Chocobo’s thick-scaled talons, crunching at the solid ground beneath them. She could only see the beginnings of the bright yellow feathers starting just above its knee joints before she could turn her head no further.

“Oh my,” she heard a feminine voice coo, grunting in a way that reminded Kella of petals of a flower rubbing together as she climbed off the Chocobo, “that poor man is lying on the floor. Let us help him. Oh please, Manas.”

It didn’t surprise Kella to imagine the second person quietly shaking their head, especially after she heard him speak.

“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea, my lady,” Manas told her, his voice old and haggard, “especially in the night. It could be a mugger trying to trick us. Please remount the Chocobo.”

There was a scuffle and a sigh before two pairs of hands reached under Kella’s shoulders and lifted her up, revealing to the two that she was in fact female.

“Oh dear, what happened to your hair?”

The elderly man shushed her swiftly, before dragging Kella over to the Chocobo’s other side and attempting to lift her onto it, giving up after a few seconds of pushing.

“This just won’t do.”

“Why don’t we try to make her well enough to walk?” the girl suggested. Kella tried to see her, but she found her vision was impaired, and everything was blurred, not just dark.

“Very well,” the man said, huffing as he reached into his bag and pulled out a thick book. He created a blurred symbol with his free hand and fingers then thrust his palm into her chest, shouting, “Regen!”

Kella was knocked back, off her feet and onto the floor. She felt an oddly good sensation, however, and could feel her tired limbs sigh with relief. She stood back up, needing only a small amount of support from the girl.

She could tell her vision was slowly coming back as she saw the head-sized beak on the Chocobo. The texture of rough steel, their beaks could break through almost any stone and most weak metals. Its eyes were staring at her nonchalantly, and then moved to her chest.

She followed the birds gaze, staring at the green-glowing path of her flesh from under the nightgown, which expectedly was torn in most places and filthy with mud, dust and green smears from the sparse plants she had seen.

“How are you feeling?” she heard the girl say to her, and turned slowly to face her. She was shocked at how bright she was, even with the clouded night sky. Her bright blonde hair was much more white than Kella’s had been, but more blonde than Lea’s.

She wore a yellow dress with darker trimmings around the frilled sleeves and puffy skirt. Her face was pale, but Kella saw an intense beauty that drew her in, focusing her gaze on the girl’s brilliantly fierce green eyes.

“I’m a bit better, surprisingly,” she replied, rubbing her chest where the glow still was. “I’m Kella, by the way.”

“I’m Allysana,” she said, beaming with her whiter than white teeth and stretching out a hand to shake. Kella almost missed her cue, but grabbed the hand as soon as she realised and shook it. “This is the head scholar of my household, Manas.”

Kella turned to the old man and smiled, thinning her lips to hide how dark her teeth were in contrast to both of theirs. Dental care was still an issue in the slums, and while everyone took care of their teeth in the dwellings, it was not as easy when clean water and freshening gel were harder to come by.

The scholar wore cream trousers and a cream undershirt, with a deep purple waistcoat. She glimpsed the golden buttons before moving to his head. His grey hair was wild and reminded her of a bush, and in his grey eyes, hidden behind thick glass lenses, she sensed an untapped deepness.

This girl was obviously from a wealthy family, to have more than one scholar in her home.

“I hope my Regen comes across okay,” the old man rasped, gathering his breath from the energy he had used with the spell. “I don’t get too many chances to practice spells, especially spells that heal. I specialise in the spells of old, you see.”

He showed her the book he held, and she could just make out the faded letters: Grimoire.

“I came across this tome of ancient magic while Allysana’s father allowed me to take a trip to the tombs of the old kings in Whope,” he told her, forming the beginnings of a rant in his lips before he had even spoken the words, “which is a lovely place if you catch it in the right light.”

Kella looked at Allysana and saw her smile softly and roll her eyes away from the elderly man.

“The kings that used to reign there were masters of an old source of magic and spells that you no longer see in today’s society,” he continued, profusely flicking through the pages of the thick tome without even looking at its pages, “and I feel it’s a shame. I found the book while in the tomb of the old Witch King Madicus, and while his body had been ravaged by time, some of the oldest books remained intact.

“Most were simple diaries and texts on the lifestyle at the time, but I managed to find this one in the hands of the body of the Witch King himself! Can you believe it?”

“I’m amazed,” Kella said, trying to force enthusiasm.

“I’m tired,” Allysana sang, holding onto the reigns of the Chocobo. “Maybe we should talk about this more when we’ve arrived at our lodgings.”

The three agreed, and Manas walked alongside the Chocobo as Kella rode behind Allysana. She held onto the feathers, ensuring she was not too tight or too rough with them. She had always had a deep love and fascination with Chocobo, another thing Alexander had tried to stop her from expressing.

“An emotion will only hold you back in your battle,” he had told her while sharpening his large blade. “You’ll be facing your fiercest enemy and be worried that your loved one or friend might get hurt. If you get angry, your opponent can use it against you. If you get tired, your opponent will use it against you. Happy; sad; proud; fearful, all of these emotions hold you back in a battle. If you fight with a clear head and a hidden façade, you can accomplish anything.”

Remembering that speech reminded her of how she couldn’t wait to arrive back at their small home and well-used training area. She could find out from him what had happened almost an entire week ago.

“Would you like to test out another of those spells you’ve been babbling about, Manas?” Allysana asked with a rude tone, although Kella could tell it was said with the kind of attitude friends used with each other.

“Which did you have in mind, dear Allysana?”

“You’ve been saying you wish you could run again,” she suggested, ending her sentence with a slow, drawn out tone.

“I see exactly where you’re going.”

He was beaming at the prospect of using another spell, and eagerly flicked through the Grimoire as soon as he pulled it from his satchel. He swung his arm in a circular motion around his head, and then thrust his palm down towards the ground. “Haste!”

A ring of bright energy appeared around his waist, lighting up the whole area they were in. The Chocobo watched intently as a thick line of the same energy appeared above the old man’s head and span around in long twirls, passing through the scholar’s body and down to the floor.

Immediately after the light had vanished, he was jogging on the spot while Kella took a few seconds to adjust to the new light.

“Watch this,” Allysana said, almost as excited as the Chocobo, who was thrashing its feet around on the rocky ground.

Manas giggled with glee as he sped along the valley, moving at speeds a spry child shouldn’t be emitting, let alone an elderly man.

The Chocobo sensed the race and started galloping almost as soon as Manas was getting over the upcoming ridge. Wind rushed past Kella’s sensitive ears and she laughed as if she was still as child herself, enjoying the thrill of racing over a valley on a Chocobo.

They came over the ridge to see Manas standing at the end of a peak, overlooking Passo, the slum town in which Kella had lived. The Chocobo stopped next to him and turned slightly, giving both girls a good look at the town below.

It was burning.

***

The four weary travellers arrived in Passo, frantically wondering what was happening. People were screaming and running around, and there were Royal Knights of Extrav mixed in with fighters from other cities, such as Traito. One of the Royal Knights, in all his shiny armoured glory, turned and caught sight of Kella.

“Men, Char is among us!”

The army of male fighters in Passo turned to stare at her, standing in a torn nightdress, looking as if she might fall over at any time. Two of the clothed fighters not from the Extrav moved towards her at a wary pace.

“You’re Char?” Allysana asked, looking distrustfully at Kella in all her rugged style. “You’re the bane of the Royal City of Extrav?”

“I’m just a girl who was in a hospital,” Kella whispered to her, just loud enough for Manas to hear as well, “but they didn’t know my name and called me Char because I was on fire when they found me. I still don’t realise why.”

“Still, I can’t bring myself to completely trust you,” Manas said slowly, pushing his glasses higher still on his nose than before. Only one person there believed her, and that was the Chocobo. “What are you doing, Oco!”

The yellow-feathered bird tilted itself to prompt Allysana and Kella to climb off before turning to face the two oncoming fighters. Both were clad in the traditional black and white cloth garments of Traito, a city known for its violent inhabitants, willing to go to war with whomever, and for whomever.

Oco the Chocobo turned swiftly and kicked both in the chest with his powerful legs, knocking them back into a wooden shed near someone’s burning house.

“You stupid bird,” Manas scolded, slapping the giant on the rear in disapproval. “You’ve gone and started a fight we have no hope of winning!”

“Can’t you get us out of here?” Kella asked. He looked at her for a moment, not daring to smile nor frown.

“I can try, but it has to be somewhere near and that one of us has an image in our heads of,” he told her, pulling the Grimoire out of his bag. The fighters and Royal Knights were coming closer, slowly and hesitantly, but closer nonetheless.

“I’ve got somewhere, don’t you worry.”

“Then close your eyes and picture it. Picture it carefully and make sure every detail you can think of is there to make it that much more accurate.”

She obeyed, and although she wasn’t sure how long she should think of it for, she thought of her home. Bright skies were back, and Alexander was waving to her with no emotion at all on his face, just as she remembered him.

“It’s time to open your eyes, now.” He spoke to her, clearly and in his own, hulked voice.

Kella opened her eyes and she was in the courtyard where she and Alexander had trained. The skies were still red with the fires in the town, but none seemed to have affected this place. With a smile, Kella span around, taking in the whole exterior of the small wooden home she had lived in only a few days ago.

She stopped suddenly as her eyes fell upon a sight that made her stomach turn. Allysana clawed a scream back into her mouth and stifled it, and Manas shook his head and gave the sign of grieving to the gods, waving his right arm around so that his palm faced upwards and placing his left palm along his right forearm.

At the opposite end of the courtyard to the house, a skeleton lay crumpled on the stone floor, with Alexander’s person-long sword sliced through it, and his armour spread along the joints, both charred.

As Allysana repeated the grieving sign, Kella dropped to her already scraped knees and tried to weep. The tears wouldn’t come.

“Have you made a wish that I show no emotion only now as you’re dead in front of me?” she asked the skies, her voice cracked and lost. Manas and Allysana looked away from both her and the skeleton, but Oco came and pressed his large beak against her shoulder softly, showing his own grief.

“Was this person known to you, Kella?” Allysana asked her, still looking away from the burned and crumpled mess of bones and the skull.

“He taught me how to fight,” she answered, revelling in the lack of emotion she was feeling. Alexander had been right about that at least. She felt calm and free, almost as if she was floating and thinking with a clear head. “I guess you could say he took me in and acted as my father when my own had gone.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Manas said, wiping his glasses on his billowing sleeves, “but I thank the gods that we’re still living.”

“Maybe we should get inside,” Allysana suggested, looking anxious, “before they realise you’re still in town.”

“It’s not just Kella now, dear Allysana,” Manas told her, pointing at Oco, “but it’s also us they’ll be looking for. Thanks to that bird, we’ll be on the run, as well.”

“Kweh!”

Allysana laughed, looking at Kella to join her, but Kella stayed on her knees, staring at the remains of her best and only friend. Alexander had taught her everything she knew about daggers, her favourite weapons, but had never had a chance to teach her the skills with using weapons such as her tutor’s own favoured sword.

Now she could at least pay respect to his memory. Standing, she grabbed the long hilt of the broadsword and pulled it, slowly relieving it of its entrapment in the stone floor. It was in deep, and whoever had killed Alexander had set fire to the sword.

Probably some sort of mage, she decided. She could just about lift the sword off the ground, but in doing so she would lay rest to the only man who ever meant anything to her. She would get revenge.

“Let’s go inside, then.”

*****

Author's Note: So I'm sorry it took longer to post this one. I've been really busy doing something on another Forum, so that took a while. One thing I've loved writing so much with this fic is the magic and the fight scenes. This is one I love.