Redemption

Gradak had been in Kefkaburg for at least a year, his talents wasted on the idiotic peasantry that called the place home.  Back in Vector, he was a talented spy, he had been rewarded by Lord Kefka himself on  one occasion.  It had been the first time he had seen the man - all  dressed up like a clown with a party to attend.  He had considered commenting on it later to his fellow spies, until he heard his Lord and master's laugh and looked into his crazed eyes.  Of course, there  were the rumors that Kefka was more than the human form that he chose  to wear.  And those rumors were downright terrifying.  So Gradak had bitten his tongue, but backbiters being what they were, when a mission with his "friend" Terlon went wrong, Terlon had thrown him under the caravan so fast he didn't even see the wheels coming.

He had been stripped of his medals and barely escaped the label of traitor.  Kefka's generals did with him what they did with all the Vector military wishing to get back into good graces.  They sent him to Kefkaburg and left him to languish there - content that the only force needed to control the swine was a few desperate soldiers.  Sure, he did some things that might be questionable by other militaries, but the people in Kefkaburg were worthless.  The only reason he knew of that they held onto the garbage heap was its location in the Great Realms.  Trade.  Money.  And, of course, they couldn't easily walk  into Torregiano without having a fire at their hides.

So, Gradak waited.  He patrolled.  He instigated.  He made indiscriminate slaughters of bums that were too drunk to know not to ask him for change.  He didn't know how long he was going to be stuck in this hell, but he would show, he would prove he was worthy, and once back in Kefka's good graces, he would punish Terlon.

It was as he stood, dwelling on the favorite form of torture (slivers of bamboo beneath fingernails), when he felt the tremors in the air. Not real tremors, no, but the tremors of change.  Something wasn't right, and his elven blood sensed it.  "Hey, Rhay, can I take a break?"
"For what?  And don't tell me for a piss, you can use the goddamned street for that, this whole place is a toilet."
"No, I have some needs to tend to."
"You have fifteen minutes then I better see your ass back at the gate or so help me, Kefka, you're going to be roasted."
"Right.  Right."

Gradak entered the tower and slipped off his armors, putting his  cloak on once more.  He uttered a word and vanished.  With stealth, in his element, he slipped through the streets, his half-elf ears pricked.  At last, Nisstyre's Tavern, he heard the voices.  He heard the tremor.  "Word is they're getting ready."
"Ain't they been gettin' ready for years?  Ain't nobody comin' Lou. No one gives two," here the man held up a drunken three fingers,
"shits bout this place.  They came and left and came and left."
"Well this time it's real I tell you.  Those fanatics and hell comin with em."
"Friend, you need another shot.  You're delusin... delusun... crazy."
"I swear it's true.  Brock said he heard Frey say he heard Howie say that they was gonna come.  They was gonna stop these bas-"

Gradak looked up as the men went into sudden silence.  Is'Kal had strolled in for a before shift drink.  Is'Kal - the golden boy of the sky guard.  Gradak wouldn't be sad to see something bad happen to him.  Even the sound of his voice... no matter.  The threads of the web had been disturbed.  Perhaps if he could take the information back to Vector, he would be rewarded.  If something was going to  happen and they were ready... he'd be adored.

He slipped from the tavern and back to his heap of armors.  He slipped them back on and went back to his post at the gate.  Tonight, he  would inch around the town, he would listen, he would do what he did best, then he would take all his findings straight back to Vector. This would be his redemption.

Awakenings (1-2)

Pain...

A beacon of pain pulsed within Colin's head, never quite dying but flaring to new life in correspondence with each heartbeat.  At least he had a heartbeat, that was good, but with pain like this he found himself wishing it would cease in order to quiet the agony.

He lay curled in a fetal position upon something soft.  He didn't quite know what or where and he didn't want to open his eyes just yet to find out.  It hurt just trying to think.   His mouth was dry and carried a taste like month old yogurt.  He wondered for a moment just how long he had been lying here, but it hurt to wonder.

He heard a quiet click, a gentle creak like a door being opened, and a soft shuffling coming nearer.  The sound startled him and the minor increase in his heart rate sent fresh waves of agony pulsing through his head.  Perhaps this was an assassin, creeping in to end this misery.  That wouldn't be so bad, now would it?  There was a slight clink of glass and the sound was like a gong crashing inside his head.  Colin's body tensed and he gave an involuntary groan.

A gentle voice spoke, "Ah, so you are finally awake."

Colin's brow tightened in anguish.  Apparently this person wasn't here to end his suffering after all, but the gentle voice was like a crashing of boulders. Colin managed to weakly croak out a single word, "...hurts..."

"Oh yes, of course.  I'm sure you're in pain.  Let me see if I can help."

Colin felt a cool hand rest gently against his temple and, for the briefest of moments, the contact was like an iron spike being driven into his skull.  There was a quick rush of warmth and the pain changed from iron spikes to a partially tensioned vice.  It still hurt, but this could be bearable.

Colin managed to crack open his eyes.  He was in tidy white walled room and a silvery-skinned woman in a plain white robe stood beside his bed, smiling down upon him.  He knew this woman, they had met before although, it seemed a lifetime ago.  It took him a moment to dredge up the name through his aching head. "Amilach?"

The silvery woman nodded in satisfaction, "Yes.  You remember.  That's good... very good."

Colin summoned the strength to uncurl from his ball and pull himself into a sitting position.  The ache in his head intensified and he winced, placing a hand against his temple.  He was surprised to find a significant growth of beard scratching against his palm.  He looked over to Amilach in confusion. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Almost three months now.  We weren't sure if you would make it, but you are a strong one, fortunately.  What do you remember?"

Colin closed his eyes with a furrowed brow.  For some reason remembering was difficult.  Not everything made sense, like there were holes, and the holes hurt.  "Fenlauch brought me here, to this plane.  He brought me to you."

Amilach nodded, "Yes, that's right.  Do you remember why?"

"I... I was sick.  There was something in me.  Black makou?"

Amilach nodded again and gestured to a table sitting near the opposite side of the bed.  Upon the table was a large glass jar, filled three quarters of the way with a thick black substance.  Colin watched it for a moment and felt like he was looking at something alive.  He looked away, back to Amilach. "Thank you," he managed with a relieved breath.

"No thanks are necessary.  Tell me, how did that get inside you?"

Colin took in a breath and probed his memory once more.  He knew that Amilach knew all these answers.  He was being tested.

"Brin.  She attacked me.  I was going to die but Throm saved me.  He.. put me in a tank."

Amilach looked impressed at this.  She smiled serenely.  "Well Colin, you have done exceptionally well.  Once you have regained your strength, you will be ready to go home."

Colin nodded.  Home.  The cavern.  But something bothered him and it caused his head to hurt more when he thought about it.

"Amilach... why do I live in such a large home for just me?"

Amilach's smile fell.