Throwback Thursday: Final Fantasy: War of the Magi Part 2 of 3
This was a writing exercise I assigned myself one summer when I was 14. I took a story I was extremely familiar with (Final Fantasy 3 – a game I spent HOURS playing for many years and have beaten more times than I can count) and decided to write about it. I wanted practice at writing description and dialogue.
It was originally published on FanFiction.com. I never finished it.
For part one click here.
A blurry haze covered the girl’s eyes as she moved her throbbing head upon the pillow it rested on. This haze was nothing compared to the emptiness of her mind. Her head seemed as if it were a chamber filled only with locked doors, all just out of her reach. Pain radiated from every limb, and it took all of her willpower to not cry as she sat on the edge of the bed. Looking around through squinted eyes, she took note of her surroundings. The room was at once warm and inviting, a fire stirred in the fire place, five feet from the bed. The walls were empty, and the space bare with the exception of a desk and chair, a bed, and a single lamp. A red shag carpet covered the floor. Two doors, on either end of the room, stood closed.
Ignoring the dagger like pains that seared her limbs and caused them to shake, the girl got up and began to walk towards the door at the far end of the chamber. Her legs failed her almost instantly and she collapsed to the floor. Suddenly, one of the doors in her mind opened and an image of burning soldiers crept before her eyes, the memory of burning flesh so vivid it caused her to retch on the floor. She shut her eyes against the flashback, unsure of where it had come and how. She cried out.
Instantly, the door was opened and a man rushed to her aid, kneeling on the floor beside her.
“Terra…? Are you alright?” His voice was low and soothing. Terra. The name sounded familiar to her, she could only suppose it was hers. He helped her up and back onto the bed, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. “My name is Arvis.”
“Arvis,” she repeated. Arvis was not a young man, but not terribly old either. He looked to be close to forty-five and stood at close to six foot tall. His eyes were a light brown and were warm and kind. Wrinkles creased his forehead, some evidently from age, others probably from the shock of having his home town invaded. He was fairly slender in build but strong. “Where am I?” Despite his friendly face, she was too unsure of the world to trust him completely.
He smiled reassuringly at her. “You are in my home in the city of Narshe. You came here with two of Emperor Ghastal’s soldiers in a mission to retrieve an Esper from the mines.” His face contorted with anger for a brief moment as he mentioned the emperors name, it soon reverted back the compassion she had seen there before, as if nothing had occurred to disturb him.
“I don’t remember anything…” tears of chagrin slipped from her eyes. Obviously the emperor was an awful man, she was astute enough to pick that up, so if she had been traveling with his army, than she must be part of the enemy. More tears fell.
“I didn’t suspect you would.” A thoughtful look took over Arvis’s features as he stood and paced the room once, he then headed towards the desk where he opened a drawer and pulled out a broken metal crown, the very one that had recently rested on her head. “Terra, this is a slave crown, it has held a place around your head for the last sixteen years. The emperor was using it to control you. You are not responsible for your actions.”
The mere fact that he mentioned responsibility for her actions showed that they must have been reprehensible.
Before Terra could question him on the situation further several loud knocks sounded on another door. Arvis paled slightly which caused another wave of terror to overcome her.