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"There's something coming," one of the mechanics said, looking
haggard and frightened, and both Rydia and Reno turned to look at
him. He was pointing over the opposite railing, to the frozen tundra
that was rapidly approaching beneath them. Against the stark white
of the terrain, Rydia could see a figure, dark against the light,
growing larger and larger with each flap of its wings. For a moment,
she thought it was Bahamut– the wingspan reminded her so clearly of
the great dragon– and then, as she moved to the other side to get a
closer look, she could see that it was not him at all. The wings
were nothing but bones with shreds of skin remnants hanging from
them, the eye sockets void of organs.
"Shit," Reno swore. His rod was in his hand before she knew it.
"Incoming!"
Rydia stepped back and allowed the mechanics to swarm into the side.
They were equipped, and that much, at least, she was thankful for.
She tried to think back to her time in the Lunar Palace, to the
zombie monsters they had encountered along the crystal floors. She
recalled only a few magics working well enough to cast on sight, and
she held her palms towards each other in front of her form. Blizzard
would be useless on a creature from the Northern land, and so she
summoned the flames instead.
The dragon roared, and it shook the foundation of the ship beneath
her feet.
Chanting was made slightly difficult by the coldness stinging her
face, for her lips were trembling and her teeth were chattering, but
she focused on the tugging sensation in her fingers. When the Firaga
spell flew, it hit the monster in the side, and it gave off an angry
cry of pain. It did not falter– similar to the Behemoth, it seemed
that it would take far more than a potent elemental spell to bring
it down. It reared back and surged towards the figures standing on
the airship deck, and Rydia moved hastily to one side as quickly as
she could in the heavy coat.
There was a scream, and one of the mechanics was in the air above
her, dangling for a long moment just over her head. Two bony legs
landed hard on the ship, tilting it and causing it to shake wildly,
and there were warm droplets on her forehead from the figure above.
Her heart in her throat, she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her
face away, trying to block out the man's shrieks as they slowly
gurgled and died out.
The dragon was on the ship, and she didn't know how much longer the
engines would hold out with the added weight.
She readied another Firaga spell– the last one hadn't killed it, but
it seemed to have done enough damage to be repeated, and let it fly
with a gasp.
"Rydia!" she heard Reno shout, though she couldn't see him. There
were figures all around her, and the dragon was flailing and
whipping its tail around, and she threw herself to one side to avoid
it. She could feel the appendage fly above her head– the wind
accompanying it blew her hair into her face, and she clawed at the
strands to remove them from her vision. There was an opening, and
she shot a Fira spell up at the Dragon's jaw bones.
She wasn't sure if it was the spell that alerted the monster to her
presence below it or not, but its face turned down, and she knew it
saw her, even though the sockets were empty and dark. She froze,
heart pounding in her ears, and was sure that she was going to die.
She couldn't withstand a direct attack of its teeth, just like the
others, and she threw her hands up to try and get another spell off.
It didn't bite her– instead, it lunged at her and bony claws wrapped
around her form. She could feel them even through the thickness of
the coat, her arms trapped at her sides. It was perhaps more
terrifying than watching the jaws close in on her– she could not
move to ready a spell and she was at the mercy of the beast should
it chose to squeeze the talons together.
"Reno!" she shrieked, and then her stomach lurched violently– the
Dragon was taking flight, feet pushing off violently from the ship
deck below. The sudden pressure was enough to start the ship
sputtering, and even as she was taken to the skies, she could see
the ship beginning to falter. Her feet were no longer touching the
ground, and she kicked wildly. "Reno!"
She couldn't breathe. The claws were tightening, and her vision was
going red at the edges. She tried again to kick against the hold,
but without being able to fill her lungs with air, she was rapidly
losing strength. The ship was growing smaller beneath her, and air
was cold and biting against her cheeks, and she thought she heard
someone call her name just before the world went black.
------
She woke in pain.
It took her awhile to recognize where it was coming from– her entire
body ached like she had spent hours fighting and running, swinging
her whip. She could only feel one side of her face, and, as she
began to move, she realized that it was because it was pressed
against a block of ice. Her lip was swollen, and she ran her tongue
over it– it tasted like coppery dried blood. Her mouth seemed to be
full of cotton, and she tried to brush at errant hairs covering her
face only to find that her wrists were quite securely fastened to
something– the wall, it seemed, through a pair of irons embedded
deep in the ice itself.
She couldn't see much, but she saw enough to know that the wall of
ice seemed to be the interior of a cave. It was cold, but the coat
kept her from feeling the sting on anything other than her exposed
skin. The entire right side of her face was numb from time spent
against the frozen crystals. She tugged weakly at the restraints,
but she had little energy left and they were too tightly fixed to
the wall.
"I was hoping you would wake soon," came a voice, smooth and silky.
It reminded her all at once of Zemus and Golbez, like a fusion of
the two– tone corrupted with power and hatred. She did not recognize
it past the comparison, but she didn't need to, for knowing that it
was on par with her old foes was enough to chill her blood. She
tried to move her head to see the person speaking, but she could
only move as far as her arms would let her. Shifting her legs
beneath her, she could crane her head far enough to see a figure
standing against a light, nothing save for a darkened outline.
"Wh– where am I?" she asked. Her voice seemed hoarse, as if she had
not used it for days.
"You are resilient– I'm glad you were not killed in the attack," he
continued, as if he had not heard her question. She swallowed hard,
and found the action to be painful. Even moving her fingers hurt,
for they were cold and stinging from the chill, and it felt as if
they were filled with prickling sand. "I thought perhaps I should
have used something that would be more gentle with you, but it did
the job nicely."
"What do you want with me?" she whispered, choking on a cough that
lodged itself in her throat.
"You can do what I cannot," he said, and then seemed to sigh. "Here,
I cannot manipulate the lifestream anymore. It is lucky that you
followed the others through the portal."
"Magic," she croaked, feeling as if the weight of a thousand suns
had fallen on her shoulders. Her hasty decision had enabled him to
use her like a weapon– she could still activate and control the
energy in the new world she'd been plunged into, and what seemed
like a blessing had turned into a curse. The corners of her eyes
stung with hot, prickling tears. "I won't help you."
"Such a brave girl," he chided. He was doing nothing to harm her
directly, and it seemed he had enough reason to keep her alive for
the time being, and yet she could not stop the onslaught of tears
from leaking over to her cheeks and burning their way down her face.
They felt like fire against the cold of the air.
"What did you do the others?" she stammered. She tasted the tears as
they ran into the corners of her mouth– they were salty and bitter
on her tongue. "What did you do to them?"
"If the fires of the wreck didn't kill them, surely the elements
did," he said. In the light, she could see him cock his head to one
side. "The nights here are not kind to those unprepared."
Her vision blurred too badly to see anything else, cries rippling
through her chest.
"I'll kill you!" she sobbed, half into the ground. "What makes you
think I won't burn you right now?"
"Try it," he said casually. She did as he requested, and for a long
moment could not understand why the usual tingle of magic was not
pulled towards her fingers. It was like suddenly being half-blind–
without her senses, she could not feel the energy swirling around
her. She was powerless, no matter how hard she tried, and the
sensation felt as if half her heart had been ripped away from her.
Never before had she been so unable to feel the magic. "It's a
powerful spell on those shackles. Silence Materia appears to work
the same on you as on any other."
"No," she whispered. Tears were freezing to her cheeks, hardening
against her skin. "No."
"I have business to attend to," the man said, and even in her state,
she did not miss the strange emphasis he put on business, drawing
out the syllables. "I will return."
She did not doubt it. She kept her face pressed against the ice,
listening to his footsteps gradually fading away until there was
nothing, and the chamber was silent save for the whistling of the
wind against the rock. She had nothing to distinguish him by– he'd
been shrouded in darkness the whole time, though she knew that it
would do her little good even if she'd seen his face. She could not
move and could not feel the magic. She was less useful than the rats
living in Baron's basement, a blind, trapped rodent.
She cried, the action hurting her as her body was racked with the
sobs, and with her face against the ice, the tears froze quicker,
stinging her cheeks. She did not move– the pain was the only thing
she had to cling to, and it was better than feeling nothing. The
absence of her magic left her feeling more empty than she had ever
felt before.
She thought of Rosa– how had she kept her faith in captivity for so
long? She thought of Cecil and his nobleness, of the portal in the
Land that she had looked upon with such naivete. She could not think
about what the man had alluded to with the airship. She was too
empty to wrap her mind around the loss, of the quick banter and easy
wit and long, smooth fingers.
And she cried for a long time, calling for Reno and Rosa and Asura–
and none of them came.
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