PRELIMINARIES: None of this belongs to me. Final Fantasy VI, and all worlds, characters, etc. associated with it are the property of Square. Square is not affiliated in any way, shape, or form with the creation of this story (a fact for which, I suspect, they would be profoundly grateful). I have made liberal usage of their characters and settings in this story; this was done without their knowledge or permission, and is technically an infringement of Square's copyright. As this story is, at the most pragmatic level, free promotion of the Final Fantasy franchise, it is hoped that they will regard this story (if at all) with a benign ignorance.

If you paid a wooden nickel for this story, not only have you been drastically overcharged, but whoever charged you has done so illegally, and I disavow any association with said individual(s).

Don't copy this story onto your archive. In the first place, if you want to it probably means that you were high on something when you read it; in the second place, it's an "in-progress" work; in the third place, I want to keep a very tight leash on its distribution. E-mail me if you simply must have this story, but do not anticipate my response and post it before I get back to you.

All feedback is welcome, up to an including line-by-line critiques (provided they fit in my mailbox).

Now, sit back and either enjoy the ride, or (more likely) enjoy thinking of what you'll do to me at the end of it...

The Author

This isn't happening...

Bloody hazel...

Those eyes...

Not again...

No right...

"I'm sorry."

"Ugh?" As my eyes flicked open, I felt a soft breeze off to my right, as if something had pulled back suddenly from very close by. I struggled upright from the tangled morass of my covers and strained my ears, but heard only my own breathing.

"Hello?" I peered into the darkness. "Is someone there?"

Silence.

I'm sorry. I mouthed the words as I struggled to recall the voice. It was a whisper--no, more of a mumble--almost too soft to discern, but undeniably female--What are you talking about? It was obviously male! I grit my teeth. This wasn't a long-lost memory, damn it! I heard it with my own ears!

Or did you just imagine it?

I slumped against the wall, cradled my head in my hands and groaned. Not only was it the middle of the night. Not only was there a sudden, uncomfortable chill in the air. Not only was I arguing with myself. And losing. If that weren't enough, I could now feel an impending headache just this side of debilitating, and I still didn't know whether anyone was in the room.

My eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, but were of little help. The dresser, the mirror, the table, the stool all stood untouched--I could almost see the dust gathering in the sparse moonlight. To my right, the chair sat next to the bed as always; beyond it, the door was closed.

Everything was just as it had been when Celes shut the door last night. No one was here.

But still...

I'm sorry.

I reached out and laid a hand on the hard wooden seat.

It was warm.

"I'm really sorry about that."

"You should be." I glared at my self-appointed caretaker over a spoonful of vegetable soup, my lunch--and breakfast, and dinner, and dessert. At least it was hot. It had been cold this morning, when Terra had conceived the brilliant idea of my eating with them for the last meal before takeoff. Breakfast in bed, she had described it while I wondered if anyone had a right to be so alert or cheerful before dawn, with good friends and pleasant conversation.

She got the first part right, anyway.

"Was it that bad? I mean, I know it got out of hand near the end, but--"

"Near the end?" I stared at her in unmasked shock. "Terra, the morning began with Celes and Setzer screaming at each other. It ended with Celes and Setzer screaming at each other. I don't think they stopped once."

"Come--"

"Nine arguments, Terra." Of course, I didn't really keep track--I doubt anyone could have; they kept blending one into another, into another, back into the first. I came up with nine by counting the number of times Setzer's voice went so high it cracked, which I suppose was as good a measure as any. "And Locke didn't even raise an eyebrow until number seven, which tells me this wasn't unexpected."

Terra raised her hands. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I thought you'd enjoy some pleasant conversation, that's all."

"Terra, you and I are going to have to talk about your definition of 'pleasant.' "

She grinned. "Touche." There was nearly a full minute of silent eating before Terra spoke up again. "I still tell you, they're nice to be around, most of the time. They're usually not as bad as they were today."

A common opinion, I guess. After breakfast, Locke came back, alone, to apologize for Celes' behavior. "Uncharitable" was the kindest word he used.

Then, a little later, Celes stopped by to apologize, which I think startled her almost as much as me. Of course, she was apologizing for Setzer, but it's the thought that counts.

Then, just before takeoff, Setzer graced me with his presence to apologize, as near as I could tell, for my own existence. I'm still not sure who he was apologizing to.

"Shadow?"

"Hmm?" I started, glanced up over an empty spoon hanging from a hand--oh, my hand--in midair. "I'm sorry. What was that?"

"I asked if you were all right. You've just been sitting and staring at that spoon for the past five minutes. Are you okay?"

My soup was now cold, and I didn't feel that hungry. "Just thinking, that's all."

"It must be pretty important, if you can lose yourself like that. Anything I can help with?"

There was something that had been bugging me, actually. "Maybe you can tell me why everyone's so skittish when they talk about my past."

"You have that effect on people, you know."

Yeah. Those eyes. "Maybe, but this feels like more than that. Like they want to say something, but they're afraid to." There was a loud clatter as Terra's fork slipped out of her hand. "Terra?"

Her cheeks shaded rose. "I'm sorry. I had asked them not to really bring up your past with you, but I was thinking more along the lines of not trying to speed up your recovery. I didn't think they'd take it that far."

"What's so bad about recovering faster?"

"Nothing, if you're ready. I just didn't want you to feel any pressure, feel like people are force-feeding you your past, that you have to remember. If you try to push it...bad things can happen."

"You speak as if you're had some experience with that."

"Why do you think they let me stay behind with you?"

"Let you--huh?" Locke said that Terra had made a convincing case..."You mean that you've taken care of someone with amnesia?"

"Close." She smiled and tapped her head.

"You're kidding."

"Not at all. In fact, I'd just woken up--like you did--when I first met you, Locke, and the others."

"And bad things happened."

I witnessed every crease of the painstakingly swift metamorphosis from joy to shadow. "Yes," she whispered. "Bad things."

"Terra?"

She looked up and smiled wanly. "Sorry. It wasn't a very pleasant time for me. My friends and I were at the center of a crisis, and I had no choice but to push...but there's no rush with you. So I'm hoping you'll turn out better...better than I did."

"In other words, just go at my own pace?"

"More or less. I knew you fairly well, so if you have any questions, or want to...find something out, ask me."

"But?"

She sighed. "But, there are a few things you're going to have to remember on your own. I won't talk about them."

"Because of those 'bad things' you mentioned earlier."

"Exactly. If you're not ready to handle them, things could get out of hand." Terra stood, and picked up her plate. "Are you done? If so, I'll take that back down to the kitchen."

"Be my guest."

A little bit of soup sloshed over the side of the bowl when she set it on her plate and turned away. "I have to do some shopping, but I'll be back in a few hours. Try to get some rest in the meantime."

I pitched my voice flat. "Yes, mother."

She stumbled through the doorway with a loud crash.

"Clothes?"

Terra nodded. "I only had what I'm wearing, and your suit had to be destroyed--there was practically nothing left of it." She pulled a pair of pants and a shirt from a box, and draped them over the end of the bed. "Try these on. I had to guess at the size," she added apologetically.

"Are you sure it's such a good idea to be on my feet? I mean--"

"It'll be all of five minutes. I know you're up to that."

"All right." I reached for the covers, hesitated, then looked back at Terra. "Ahem?"

"Oh! Sorry." She turned her back, and I hobbled over to the clothes. It only took a moment to get them on.

Perfect fit.

"You," I said as I turned for Terra's inspection in the orange sunlight, "are one hell of a guesser."

"I've had practice," she replied. "I spent almost a year as the de facto mayor of the world's youngest town, so I had to learn."

"The orphanage in Mobliz?"

She grinned wryly. "The orphanage is Mobliz. There's nothing else left."

"What happened to it?"

Her face fell. "It was destroyed. I guess you could call it an earthquake."

"But you don't." It wasn't a question.

"No, I know what destroyed it--and who."

"Who?" I sat down heavily on the bed. "You mean to tell me someone has the power to cause earthquakes?! That's not pos--"

You took down a god with us.

"Is--was it anyone I knew?"

Terra blinked at the change of tense. "Not well--I don't think. You fought him alone at least once, I know. His name was Kefka."

"Kefka." The Striker meant nothing to me now; but that name sent a chill down my spine. "Can you tell me about him?"

"He's dead." Terra's voice was flat. "That's all that matters."

"Sorry. I take it you knew him well?"

"Better than I wanted to." Terra grimaced. "I should hate him, for everything he's done, everything he's taken, but..." She shivered. "I don't remember everything about my past, even now. And I don't think I want to." She gave me a pointed look.

"Then let's not talk about that." There was more to Kefka for me, I was sure; but now was not the time. "Do you mind if I ask you one thing about yourself, though?"

"Not at all."

"Why did you come back?"

She froze in the act of opening one of the dresser drawers. "What are you talking about?"

"The place you found me. Locke told me you all thought I was dead, so what were you doing back there?"

"What was I--oh!" She laughed. "I'm sorry, I thought you were talking about something else. Well, Locke told you about that. Did he tell you we were in a tower?"

"And that it came down, yes."

"That tower was Kefka's fortress. Twelve of us broke in and killed him. But when he died, the tower fell apart. We were running for our lives while the walls collapsed around us. You...didn't make it." She took a deep breath, and went on. "Anyway, we dropped quite a few things in the scramble--Celes almost got killed going back for one of them, in fact. It wasn't until we were safely out of the tower and recovered from your loss that I realized I'd dropped this."

She lifted a loop of fine chain off her neck, and handed it to me. On the end was a silver pendant. It was an elaborately carved figurine of a woman; it had a few dents, but had been polished to a high shine.

A trinket? "You came back for this?!"

"It was my mother's." Terra's voice was distant and tentative. "It's the only thing of hers I have left, now."

I winced. Brilliant. "I'm sorry, Terra. You must have been very close to her."

She laughed sadly. "She died when I was very young. I hardly even knew her. But I could see how her death hurt my father. He used to tell me stories about her, and we'd both be crying at the end."

"Where is your father now?"

"Gone." Terra sighed, and replaced the pendant. "Well, I think we've covered all the low points in my life. Was there anything else?"

I shook my head. "I'm really sorry I brought all that up, Terra. I didn't mean to hurt you like that."

"Don't worry about it." She smiled weakly. "In a way, I guess you could say I should be thankful about it. The pendant, I mean. Because I dropped it, I had to come back to the rubble with Celes, Locke, and Setzer, and Locke found you. I lost my mother for a week...and got a friend back from the dead in return."

I was still thinking of the expression in her eyes when I realized it was too dark to see. The hazel sparkled as it rarely did, even as they glistened with--wait a minute.

Terra had green eyes.