[FF] Reign of Winter 0 - Crisis of Fayth (Grail Works, Ltd.: Type-Moon/FFX/D&D X-over)

[Kieran]

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Prelude: (Grail) Works-in-Progress: Origin Stories (Type Moon/Various X-overs)




Prologue the First - The Man With Kaleidoscope Eyes (Grail Works, Ltd. - An Introduction)

Prologue the Second: Faythless Dreams

Chapter 1: First Meetings

Chapter 2: The Calm and the Storm

Chapter 3: Introductions and Plans

Chapter 4: Of Sin and Summonings

Chapter 5: A Crisis Averted, A Crisis Ahead

Chapter 6: Contemplations

Chapter 7: Questions

Chapter 8: Not to Calm, But to End

Chapter 9: Dealing with Problems

Chapter 10: Threats on the Horizon

Chapter 11: On the Way to Luca

Chapter 12: Arrivals

Chapter 13: Approaching Fruition

Chapter 14: Not the Best of Introductions

Chapter 15: Prelude to Changes

Chapter 16: Contacts

Chapter 17: Flickers of Rage

Chapter 18: Reluctant Conclusions

Chapter 19: A New Path Opened

Chapter 20: The Broken Blade

Chapter 21: Revelations

Chapter 22: Lessons

Chapter 23: Inquisition

Chapter 24: Shifting Paradigms

Chapter 25: Sharpening Swords

Chapter 26: Circles and Shadows

Chapter 27: Considering Catastrophes

Chapter 28: Magic, Messages and Machina

Chapter 29: Making Progress

Chapter 30: An Elven Interlude

Chapter 31: Plans within Plans

Chapter 32: The Promises of Victory

Epilogue the First: The After-Action Report

Epilogue the Second: Chaos Amidst Harmony

Epilogue the Third: Lost in the Woods








DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. Dungeons and Dragons is the creation of Gary Gygax et al, and the Forgotten Realms are the creation of Ed Greenwood. Both are owned by Wizards of the Coast. Final Fantasy X, X-2, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Square-Enix, along with their employees Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshitaka Amano, and all the others who usually have a hand in developing their games.

This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.




Prologue the First: The Man with Kaleidoscope Eyes (Grail Works Ltd.: An Introduction)







Cosmos: a Greek word meaning “order,” or “world,” in modern parlance it describes the universe when viewed as a whole. It is the entirety of Creation, for those who believe it to be so.

To one like me, however, the word has a somewhat broader application. For you see, I deal in far more than a single universe. My eyes, through the power of my magic, are capable of perceiving all that is, and all that could be — which is, in essence, anything and everything, all at once.

It’s a perspective few are truly suited for, because the concept is so much more than only the tiniest fraction of sentient beings is capable of comprehending . . .

Oh, dear — I just realised I’ve forgotten to introduce myself. Well, in some times and places, I already have, in others I’ll do so shortly, and in others still, I never bother — either because it’s unnecessary, or I don’t care to . . .

Again, my apologies — one does tend to ramble at my age.

I am most commonly known as Zelretch, with a host of other names, titles, and occasionally, natures — but here and now, I am a wizard whose magic specialises in the perception and utilisation of parallel worlds. Worlds where things differ ever so slightly, or sometimes vastly, from the one you know. And so few truly know their own world, much less these others . . .
But there are hints, even among the truly blind.

Imagination is the key, you see. What you see in your mind, in your heart, likely exists, somewhere in the realms of “what if.” You see those worlds all the time, in stories, and legends, but even then, only the tiniest fraction of those who exist — only the strongest possibility, whereas the lesser ones are too weak to leave an impact on your spirit. But they do exist, however unlikely — sometimes to vanish into the ether, absorbed or negated by another possibility, but they are there.

This, for example, is a boy that many of you are likely familiar with: Emiya Shirou. Rather unassuming, all things considered, with an impressive talent for a relatively unremarkable form of magecraft — but in a certain cluster of possibilities, he participates in rather important events, with a diverse and often surprising collection of characters.

I use the term advisedly, as many of you know him as fictional — your reality is so far distant from his that it is the only impression he is capable of leaving — but that’s unimportant, right now. What is important is that in the main, he is a youth whose heart’s desire is to save everyone from danger, strife, and pain, someone who competes in the Holy Grail War, whose victor is to be granted a single wish, possessing the power of a true miracle . . .

And that once — just once — he succeeded.

In a single reality, among all the many facets of reality that I can perceive, the Grail was what it was supposed to be, and Emiya Shirou, along with his friends, was granted the power to save everyone.

The result of his wish is an agency on the edge of the cosmos, outside of normal space and time: a collection of trouble-shooters who call themselves Grail Works, Limited. They are not perfect, nor are they always successful in their attempts, but they at least have the chance to try — and if you are in need, true need . . .

Then whoever or whatever you are, wherever or whenever you come from, you will find a Door opened for you.

[Kieran]

DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. Dungeons and Dragons is the creation of Gary Gygax et al, and the Forgotten Realms are the creation of Ed Greenwood. Both are owned by Wizards of the Coast. Final Fantasy X, X-2, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Square-Enix, along with their employees Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshitaka Amano, and all the others who usually have a hand in developing their games.

This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.








Dream Zanarkand
Spira










For a thousand years, they had dreamed. Dreamed of a city, and of lives, that had died long ago. For a thousand years, they had allowed themselves to be called, and perpetuated the spiral of death that was, in the end, the only real legacy of their home. And as they came to doubt, they also came to realise that they had no choice, any longer — the will which bound them to that spiral was too strong, and would not simply let them go.

The dream had become a nightmare for both the dreamers and the waking world, and they were powerless to stop it. Not that they hadn’t tried, nonetheless. Ten years ago, during the last iteration, they had pooled their strength, sent a champion of their own making, in the hopes that he might succeed, with the aid of the waking, where they had failed . . .

But it had been no better. And now their champion stood as merely the latest incarnation of their enemy, the perpetuator of their imprisonment.

Hope, it seemed, was no more available to them than to those outside their dreamed city, who summoned them again and again in efforts to bring about a doomed peace — doomed, because it never lasted, and never would last. Sin would always be reborn, always demand the continuation of the Pilgrimages, the Summoning of the Final Aeon — and all the sacrifices that they always entailed.

Some of their number thought to try the same act again, in hopes that a second living dream might somehow succeed where the first had failed — but he recalled a saying that seemed appropriate to the situation: that the definition of “insanity” was doing the same thing over again, and expecting a different result. No, it was no different from the Spirans’ belief that, in time, Sin’s attacks would cease, if they atoned sufficiently.

It was no true solution, only a vain hope . . . But he could see no better one before him, and reluctantly considered that he might need to acquiesce, however reluctantly, to this plan, as well —

He paused, mentally and physically, before an unfamiliar sight (which was itself a seeming impossibility, in a world that had not changed in a millennium): a wooden door, set into a wall, faint illumination shining through the cracks. Driven as much by bewilderment as curiosity, he opened the door, and stepped through . . .








Avalon Castle, Phantasmagoria Island
Outside the boundaries of time and space







He found himself, upon entering, materialised into his other form. Despite its size, that form fit surprisingly well into a Spartan but well-appointed parlour, such as might be seen in some of the more impressive manor homes of their bygone era. Seated behind a large mahogany desk, far too large for her build, was a pale girl, who regarded him with knowing crimson eyes, which were nearly hidden beneath snow-white bangs.

The fayth was wary. While she looked as alive as any living creature, he had the sense that she was similar to him in her nature. Nevertheless, the girl greeted him cheerfully, with a pleasant smile on her face that complemented her silvery voice nicely.

“Welcome to Grail Works, Limited, Bahamut-san — how can we be of service?”







Once upon a time, he’d been a man — at least, physically and legally. A useless waste of space was closer to the truth, in his opinion, but by most definitions, he’d been a man. And then he’d walked into a store that sold curses and mystical items — the latter usually another source of the former. It was a plot he’d run across in several online fan fiction stories, so believing it all to be a joke, he’d done what one of the protagonists had done: bought a pad of paper, and a pencil, and copied out his Dungeons and Dragons character, as he would be when fused with himself.

When he’d found himself turned into a druid and a werewolf, it had stopped being funny. And when he discovered that the proprietor of said store had apparently read the same stories, it really stopped being funny, because the wizard, or demon, or whatever it was behind the counter had come up with a way to spite him in the years between now and that story’s creation.

Kieran Holt had been a third-edition D&D character at his creation, and later upgraded to the 3.5 version of the rules — the version he’d copied down. But in any case, it meant that he was at least one edition behind, as far as the game’s current rules were concerned, and the proprietor had tried to force him to account for that.

Except in the fourth-edition book, it was flat-out stated that a character like he’d become just couldn’t exist under its rules.

He’d staggered from the store, his body and mind warping itself to try and conform to rules that refused to allow them, and stumbled through another door in the process . . . Or, more accurately, through a Door.

The Grail Works crew had managed to stabilise him, and the now half-drow lycanthrope figured that he owed them for that. He’d tried to help out, mainly by acting as a research resource — a lot of their problems came from places he’d seen or read about, and they hadn’t — but so far, regarding his attempts to help in a more tangible sense . . .

Well, they hadn’t worked out, to put it mildly. And to say that Saber had not been happy about the results was an even bigger understatement — a criminal one, in fact. She’d been moody and snappish ever sense, particularly around or about him, though he could hardly blame her for it. And to be fair, it wasn’t precisely her fault, either . . .

He’d cast the spell, and had Ilya aim it along the timestream, intending to revive Saber the instant before her full contract with the world took effect. Only the Grail could’ve enacted the spell with such precision, and he couldn’t fault Ilya — she’d done so perfectly. He’d cast the spell, knowing the odds were good Saber would end up a non-human (but likely still humanoid, like an elf or halfling), but assuming that Rin or Ilya could easily restore her to human form.

Kurai shook his head. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, damn it, and in a sense it was his fault. He’d had no control over what form Arturia’s reincarnated soul would assume, but never having used the spell in 3.5 before, he’d had no reason to note that it had changed — that the spell’s targets reincarnated as animals rather than humanoids.

Frankly, that would’ve been bad enough, but the newer version of the spell still retained that one-in-a-hundred chance labelled “DM’s choice.” And so, whether it was a result of something in her own karma, or just his luck to beat the odds in the strangest of times and ways, Arturia Pendragon was now a real dragon.

More specifically, Saber was a young adult bronze dragon, so she could at least still take a human form — among several other options, if she chose to. In that sense, the situation wasn’t that bad, especially since the Grail ought to have been able to fix it. But she seemed to have picked up a paragon template, as well, which meant that she had a high enough magic resistance to require the Grail’s full power to affect her.

And naturally, she was pissed about it.

It made Kurai feel sick. He was an unrepentant Saber fanboy — it was why he’d wanted to reincarnate her in the first place — and as such, he wouldn’t have hurt Saber for the world . . . But then again, why should he be surprised? Even in the game, he’d never been able to make that spell work properly, and nothing else had gone as planned where this new incarnation had been concerned . . .

And that was really just the start of Saber’s problems. Both variants of the reincarnation spell were designed to return a soul in the form of a “young adult,” which made her effectively a teenager. That she was a young adult dragon just made it worse; their elemental natures gave their emotions a similar force to the elements themselves. For the first time in maybe sixteen centuries, Saber was an honest-to-Powers teenager again, dealing with teenaged hormones again — and while her discipline hadn’t really faltered, she also didn’t have the distraction of running a realm to help her suppress them this time.

Her anger and frustration, which had been terrifying when she was merely (mostly) human, were now as potent and inevitable as a hurricane, and potentially just as — if not even more — destructive.

And, he suspected privately, the emphasis was on frustration regarding her ill-temper. He might not have his copy of the Draconomicon handy any longer, but it was trivial, so he remembered it: young adult dragons almost immediately sought to mate once they hit that stage in their development — and there weren’t any other dragons around for her to even consider.

And when you added in the fact that the only unattached males were himself or that dog familiar, Ren’s “brother” Garm . . . Really, taking the situation from that perspective, it was something of a minor miracle that the castle, to say nothing of the island itself was still intact —

“Kurai,” Ilya called, the sound of his new alias derailing his train of thought as the Holy Grail’s living spirit appeared (insomuch as the term wasn’t an oxymoron).

“We’ve got a job you can do,” she announced to him.

“Why me?” the druid countered. “I know that the others are all out, but Arturia’s been getting restless —”

“Do you think she knows anything about a place called ‘Spira?’” Ilya countered.

“Spira? I can brief . . . Never mind,” the druid sighed. Given her general opinion of him, he was liable to end up thrown out of her immediate vicinity — literally. And since she could actually kill him . . .

“We’ll likely be sending her along, as well,” Ilya admitted, “but this sounds like your kind of problem. Our client this time is . . . “

As she explained, Kurai found himself nodding. Work to overthrow a tyrannical theocracy of the undead, and break a thousand-year cycle of suffering and stagnation? His druidic nature, to say nothing of Kieran Holt’s experiences with the Mage Lord Council, definitely made it his kind of problem. And his abilities probably would work fairly well in a Final Fantasy setting . . .

Besides, it was Yuna’s world that was asking for help. How could he refuse?

He flashed on the last person he’d tried to help in a “fanboy moment,” and winced. The perils of having a Wisdom score in the 50s — you really did know better.

Hopefully, I’ll do less damage to Yuna than I did to Arturia . . .

Hopefully.

[warellis]

Which D&D setting is this going to be crossovered with? Dark Sun?

[Kieran]

Forgotten Realms - mainly in the mechanics, but the Seldarine do get involved . . .

And it'll be shifting to Pathfinder once I get into "Reign of Winter" proper.

The story still needs some rewriting, but I figure I can post the chapters that don't need it as I go along. My hope is to do at least a chapter a day, and that I'll have it all up again by the New Year.

[pureauthor]

Well, it's like seeing an old friend again after a long leave of absence.

Nice new name for the story, by the way. I know this is going to be mostly a retelling, and I look forward to what is going to change down the line, whether in terms of dialogue or characterization of what-have-you.

[Kieran]

Well, it's like seeing an old friend again after a long leave of absence.

I had a similar feeling when I saw your fic updated, a few weeks back.

Speaking of which, I believe there's a new chapter I need to get to . . .

Nice new name for the story, by the way.

Thank you. Since it ended up going in a fairly different direction from my original plan, the old one wasn't appropriate - either for the original or this.

I know this is going to be mostly a retelling, and I look forward to what is going to change down the line, whether in terms of dialogue or characterization of what-have-you.

Not much so far, but we'll see.

[Xamusel]

Hmm... I love the way this story is going so far. I hope to see it complete itself as soon as possible.

By the way... when were you going to post to the FFN account?

[Kieran]

Let me finish up here, first, and then we'll see.

[Xamusel]

Sure, Kieran, I understand.

Also... see the Mission Dossier for more.

[Kieran]

DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. Dungeons and Dragons is the creation of Gary Gygax et al, and the Forgotten Realms are the creation of Ed Greenwood. Both are owned by Wizards of the Coast. Final Fantasy X, X-2, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Square-Enix, along with their employees Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshitaka Amano, and all the others who usually have a hand in developing their games.

This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.








Ruins, Al Bhed Territory







His exact insertion point had been a matter of some debate among them.

The primary problem boiled down to the fact that, while there were a number of human subtypes and humanoid races on Spira — the Al Bhed, Ronso, Guado, Hypello, and so on — there weren’t any elves, much less dark elves. So a half-drow was liable to raise eyebrows no matter where he went. Impersonating an Aeon might have garnered him some time and space — and explained his lycanthropic form, but it was a deception that wasn’t without its dangers.

After all, an Aeon that walked around with its summoner, was never dismissed, and was human enough to speak — and intelligently, no less . . . At the very least people would ask questions, questions that no one could answer. And at worst —

Spira was a land ruled under a theocracy. Its entire society revolved around the church of Yevon — a church that maintained its power by feeding lies and false hope to its supplicants. A church ruled by the very abominations it professed to abhor. Its sole purpose was to sustain itself, and the cycle of death, destruction and despair which had brought it into being.

He could have ignored it all — gone straight to Zanarkand, torn Yunalesca’s throat out, and gone about doing the same to Sin when it showed up — but doing so wouldn’t really save Spira. And that was what the Works was all about, wasn’t it?

It wasn’t enough to kill the monster, and count the job as done. The people needed to know why, to see the reasons for themselves, and understand. Even if he did the actual slaying, he needed companions — as support, in case he really should fail (and Kurai wasn’t stupid enough to think that it was impossible), as witnesses to event itself, and as people who would be capable of picking up the pieces he left behind when the cycle was shattered.

And for that, Yuna was the key. Her journey had brought her to Sin, brought it down, along with the Church of Yevon, for all time — and positioned her to maintain peace throughout Spira, years later. She was a born leader, all the more suited for it because her power had never been sought — it was a gift, and she wielded it but lightly, conscious of the responsibility it carried.

But right now, she was seventeen years old, sheltered, naive, and while frightened, deeply devoted to bringing peace to Spira the only way she knew how to: through the teachings of Yevon. That had to change. Yuna had to make her journey, just like in the game — and she had to make it all the way, to Zanarkand.

That meant that he had to be one of her guardians — and for that to happen, she would have to trust him.

Which makes my lying to her about my true nature a very difficult thing to do — particularly if I’m claiming to be an Aeon, Kurai thought grimly, as he stepped through the Door. And her cousin Rikku is just as essential to her development, which means I can’t let anything happen to her, either — and without Tidus to protect her shortly, she could be in very deep trouble, because she's the only swimmer in her group.

It was the only reasonable explanation he could see for sending a fifteen-year-old girl down with a man they’d held at gunpoint for the sum total of their acquaintance: that none of the other Al Bhed were either capable of swimming for as long as she was, or wielding any kind of combat potential underwater. Otherwise, why not send at least one other person down with them, just as a precaution?

But as things stood now, she would be exploring the airship’s resting place alone — and might be seriously hurt, or killed, by herself.

Besides, there were other benefits to beginning here — here, in an isolated place to test just how well his abilities functioned in relation to this universe’s physical laws, a chance to gather supplies like Gil and Potions, which he found undoubtedly need on his journey, and to test just how difficult it was going to be to blend in amongst the natives.

After all, if it all goes horribly wrong, somehow, who would the Al Bhed tell about me? And who would believe them?

Thus, Kurai found himself stuck in the ruins of what looked like a Yevonite temple, from the statuary, surrounded by falling water and freezing air. Neither of those was particularly bothersome, as it happened - he could breathe water, if required, and since undergoing his Elemental Trial of Fire, he was immune to cold. He registered that it was cold, and he could still be immobilised by being encased in ice — but cold, by itself, did him no harm.

Of course, the Trial of Fire had other benefits, as well: he could see clearly through natural smoke, fog, or fire, for example, and burned out all non-magical diseases . . .

But while the sparkling gold flecks in my eyes aren’t too bad, the way my hair dances like flame whenever I move could be a problem, the half-drow noted, peering at his reflection in the water.

He felt a momentary regret for suggesting that as a possible feature for his “mark” of passing the Trial, and a further regret that his DM had liked it — but he supposed that it was yet another reason to keep his hood up, at the moment.

Kurai quickly and thoroughly looted the portions of the temple he could reach, actions that were second nature to an old hand at dungeon raiding. A handful of powerful potions and some Gil went into his Bag of Holding — they’d undoubtedly be useful later. And he found an embedded sphere that sparked something in his mind when he touched it (which, on reflection, was a bit worrisome, given all its inherent protections), recalling something long ago forgotten.

Al Bhed Compilation Sphere, the half-drow remembered, surprised at how much of the language he did remember, now that it had been forcibly brought to mind by the sphere’s effect. I wonder who dropped it here and how long ago . . . Was it another of the Klikk’s victims, perhaps?

Oh, yes, he did indeed remember that it was here. More, he could smell it — the water and the cold drowned out a lot, but that thing had been nesting here a while, and it had passed through this area recently. It would again, at some point, and like any decent predator, it would wait for him to become tired, distracted . . . In a word, vulnerable.

The question was, how did he want to deal with it?

I might as well start by facing it in humanoid form — I need to break myself of the habit of transforming for every fight, unless I want an angry mob out for my blood. Besides, Rikku won’t bother intervening if she sees a fiend and a wolf-man going at it — she’ll just back her family up in blasting me to pieces along with the Klikk.

Or she’ll try to, at any rate. I ought to be able to endure the first barrage easily enough, at least — give myself sufficient time to get away . . .

Kurai had no doubts in his ability to escape, if it came to that — if nothing else, the torc around his neck granted him the use of greater teleport once per day, and he could visualise Besaid easily enough to send himself there. He’d certainly “spent” enough time there in both games that its scenery came easily to mind. A thought, an act of will, and he’d be gone — another reason why being inserted here wasn’t really a bad idea: because he could be there whenever he chose to be.

Or the Zanarkand Ruins, or that one area of the Moonflow River . . . How many times did I watch that scene? Just to see her face, watch her swim with him under the stars? Or just to hear the song?

. . . Dozens, at least, he decided. Maybe even triple digits. Yes, that area of the river I could definitely teleport to, if I had to — no doubts about it.

Humming “Suteki Da Ne” softly to himself, the druid waited for the first test to come, for the monster and the maiden . . .

For the first chance he’d have to see just how hard this mission was really going to be.










Avalon Castle, Phantasmagoria Island








“You sent him, of all people?” Saber’s voice was not quite a shout, but the sheer force of the disbelief in it ought to have rattled the windows at any given volume. “Why?”

Ilya, however, was unruffled. “Because he knows the players, and he knows the territory — maybe not to an absolute degree, but more than anyone else here. As the closest thing we have to an expert on the situation, why shouldn’t I have sent him?”

“He’s also dangerously incompetent, in addition to all that?” Saber replied archly.

The Grail spirit sighed. “Saber, it wasn’t intentional — and all he did was set it in motion. The actual process had as much to do with you as anything else, and it could have been far worse.”

“I’m a twenty-five hundred pound reptile,” she countered, listing grievances as fast as she could think of them. “I’ve a constant urge to go swimming, and I feel — confined — in this form, even though I was human for all of my life. I will likely outlive everyone here by several millennia, and I’ve developed a positive mania for collecting the strangest things — not to mention the radical changes in my diet!”

“Considering how many servings of Shirou’s cooking you went through as a Servant, it’s not that odd.” Ilya teased. “Though I suppose that it’s lucky for you that we’re in Japan — seafood’s a staple here, after all. I’ll admit that pearls are a little trickier to get a hold of —”

“I fail to see the humour in this, Ilyasviel,” Saber said icily. “Especially given that the change can’t be undone.”

Ilya sighed again. “Saber, sooner or later, we’ll have the time to charge up the Grail and turn you back into a full human, but there’s just so much —!” She shook her head.

“Shirou wanted the chance to save everybody — do you realise how many people are in this kind of danger, every minute of every day?” the spirit demanded. “Even with the Tohno family’s help and the fact that I have a limited ability to manipulate time, there are only so many problems we can handle — and some of them we aren’t even remotely equipped to deal with yet!”

“Oh?”

“Such as a galaxy threatened by somebody called Darth Revan, and his consort, Bastila Shan,” Ilya said. “Unfortunately, none of us are ready or properly supplied to deal with laser blasters and faster-than-light starships, let alone some of the other hazards in that universe — and that’s just one problem on a constantly growing list!”

She heaved another sigh, a big one, before continuing a low tone, “We’re still new at this, all of us. We don’t have the people, the resources, the training — or much in the way of time to get them. I sent him not just because he’s the best option we have, but because he’s pretty much the only option. And because of what he’s up against, we decided having a backup option was in order, as well.”

“Oh?” Saber asked, surprised. “What kind of ‘backup option?’”

“Well, he is going to basically be fighting an entire continent,” Ilya pointed out. “And in the wrong circumstances, his would-be allies will turn against him as quickly as his enemies. So he thought sending another agent was a good idea, and I concurred.” She smiled. “Are you ready to get back to work, Arturia?”

The blonde knight blinked. Despite the recent enhancements to her mental acuity, it took her a moment to process the significance of the question.

“You want me to help him?”

Ilya shrugged. “Your talents now are just as compatible to the setting as his, you’re fairly powerful in your own right, even if you’re not really used to half of what you can do now — and people are liable to trust you. He does.”

Arturia winced. Whatever her inability to reach her people as their king, she knew enough of human nature by now to recognise the truth of that fact. Even the mistake that had led to her becoming — this — had been preceded by an earnest offer of help, a heartfelt belief that she deserved it. He would not have offered, otherwise . . .

“I know nothing of the realm, or its problems,” she said at last. “And as of yet, I’m unarmed.” Her usual equipment, as mere copies of the original items, had vanished with her Servant status, and there had been no opportunity to replace them.

A triumphant smirk flashed across the smaller girl’s face, and Arturia was struck with the sudden suspicion that this “mission” was an attempt to force her to work through her problems with the druid. It was what she would’ve done, with two such fractious knights under her command — they would either have solved the problem between them, or one of them would’ve killed the other, thus solving the problem another way.

. . . Then again, this might simply be Ilyasviel’s way of moving her out of Shirou’s presence. She did have a possessive streak, and disliked it when the other girls got too close —

Comparatively weak though the senses of her human form might be, Arturia retained the training of her lifetime as a knight, and thus sensed both the sudden appearance of the person behind her, and the object that had been tossed towards her. She whirled, snatching the object out of the air — absently registering it as a scarlet longsword, of odd design — and placed its edge against the pitcher’s throat, all in a single, fluid motion.

“Take it,” the man said gruffly. “Consider it a gift.”

“Sir Auron,” Ilya said evenly. “Saber, this is Auron — one of the guardians of the last Summoner to defeat the monster Kurai is going to try and stop. He’s going to tell you all about it — and the rest of Spira.”

She paused, before adding, “Provided you let him keep his head, of course.”

Arturia ran an appraising gaze over the one-eyed man in the red coat. He was a swordsman, like her, though he obviously favoured a heavier blade — like Berserker, his style emphasised crushing power over finesse. His expression was difficult to determine, between the high collar and the dark glasses, but she sensed an air of resignation and bitterness clinging to him.

It was an air that she was quite familiar with.

Slowly, she lowered the sword, and returned to her seat. “. . . I’m listening.”








Ruins, Al Bhed Territory







Rikku triple-checked her gear — not that she had any real doubts, having checked it twice already, but better to be safe, right?

Besides, it gave her something to do. It was kind of boring listening to Brother and the others argue (again) over exactly where they were supposed to find the airship — they’d have a better idea once they got there and were able to take a look around, right? Until then, why worry?

Unfortunately, he was in his “in-charge” mode again — issuing orders, being all surly - and it was making the crew a little growly, too. Brother was lucky he had her along to cheer people up, or they’d likely have stuck him in one of the lifeboats by now and set it adrift.

But do I get a “Thanks for making sure I don’t get killed in my sleep, Rikku?” Or an “I really appreciate your efforts, Rikku, you genius alchemist, you? How about even something simple, like, “Boy, I sure am lucky to have you along, little sister?”

The blonde sighed. Of course not, because I am so underappreciated around here — and by my own brother, no less!

Fortunately, the crew seemed to have a higher regard for her skills and talents. They listened to her when she spoke, and if they didn’t - well, she could always convince them, one way or another. It helped that she really was a genius. Mixing concoctions — whether incendiaries or burn ointments — was as easy as mixing water and sand to her, so long as she had the right materials for it. And machina practically begged to spill their secrets to her . . .

Usually, at least — there were the odd accidents, now and then. They practically never happened, though.

And this promised to be a good trip — really, an airship? Just learning about half the stuff that made it work could mean any number of improvements on their own designs! Lighter alloys, stronger engines, better fuels — even if they could never make it work, the possibilities it offered . . .

Of course, Rikku was sure that they would make it work, sooner or later.

I mean, they brought me — so why couldn’t we?

Of course, there was the teensy-weensy problem of the airship being submerged, and parked next to a mouldy old wreck of a . . . Well, something that was really, really wrecked. It was old, anyways, and probably crawling with fiends — which was why all of their salvage exploration crew went in armed and armoured, to make sure it was clear before they started poking around in the nearby water.

Because, really, the last thing they wanted was to disturb some big, nasty thing that nested there, and have it get curious about all the nearby lights and movements. Otherwise, it might develop a craving for cute, clever, and cheerful Al Bhed girls — and they’d only brought the one.

Nope, definitely don’t want that, Rikku thought firmly, as she packed an extra grenade — just in case. I like my insides right where they are, thanks so much.

She was quiet as they moved through the ruins — which, she’d admit, was not her usual style — trying to hang far enough back to stay out of range of the two boys’ heavier weapons, but close enough that she could sneak in to grab anything useful. Sometimes fiends carried things with them; either trinkets they treasured, or bits of the last thing they’d slaughtered, which hadn’t been fully cleaned off or digested yet.

Either way, she was a mistress of the lightning-quick dash-and-grab, and she wanted to be able to, if they found anything useful or neat. Of course, she didn’t really want to be in the line of fire if they opened up with their guns, either — so it was a fine line.

On the other hand, her being so quiet allowed Rikku to hear what sounded like a fight up ahead — some kind of fiend was screaming, that was for sure. They hurried closer, to a set of stone doors partially blocked by rubble.

Well, she knew what to do about that . . .

One big ka-boom later, and they were through the doors — just in time to see some guy in a hooded cloak stab a really big ugly with spidery-type legs and a wicked-sharp-looking tail.

Well, I guess that one won’t be eating me, Rikku mused, with a grin on her face . . . Until she came out of her musings to find a knife at the cloaked guy’s throat, courtesy of Wed’j, and B’iggs’ gun trained on his back. The shock made her blink for a second — sure, Al Bhed were generally safer assuming the worst, given how they were usually treated, but seriously?

“Wait!” Rikku snapped. “What if he’s a human?”

“Human, fiend, they’re all the same when they’re dead,” came the offhand response from Wed’j.

“Water ball,” came the sudden response from somewhere in the depths of the hood, and Rikku was puzzled by it — until an equally sudden explosion of water erupted from nowhere, engulfing the three of them, and knocking both the guys to the ground. The hooded man — and with that voice, he was definitely a man — whipped his hand up towards and repeated, “Water ball.”

This time, Rikku could see it: a tiny bead of water, no bigger than a teardrop, launching itself off one of his fingers. It zinged across the room, towards Wed’j — and a watery explosion that sent him flipping through the air to slump, unconscious.

. . . Or maybe he’s dead, instead? Rikku thought shakily. She mentally calculated her odds of getting a grenade out and thrown before the guy could throw another one of those spells (they had to be, though they didn’t look like any of the Water spells she knew of) . . .

Not good, she decided grimly. But if he attacks, I’ve got to chance it!

“. . . Are you prepared to be civilised?” the voice from the depths of the hood asked, after a tense moment.

“Huh?” Rikku blinked.

“I offered you no violence, or any threat at all; but you were prepared to kill me out of hand — without any explanation whatsoever, simply because I was here.” The voice hardened. “Even beasts have more reason to kill.”

Rikku needed a minute to translate what he’d said — the way he spoke reminded her of a few older Yevonite priests she’d heard, all formal and stuffy. Once she had, she shook her head.

“They really shouldn’t have done that,” she admitted. “Um . . . Sorry, I guess? For whatever it’s worth, anyway.”

How exactly do you go about apologising when your friends try to kill someone?

“It will do — and those two will have their bruises to remind them.”

“You mean they’re not dead?” Rikku blurted hopefully.

“I don’t kill out of hand,” the man said sharply, before adding, “But I would have, if I needed to.”

It wasn’t exactly the most reassuring thing she’d ever heard, and Rikku winced as she realised she’d have to ask for some help.

“. . . Um,” she said uncertainly. “I really hate to ask this, but . . . I don’t suppose you could help me get them back to our ship? They’re kind of heavy for me to carry all by myself . . . And you look like you’re in pretty good shape.”

It was true. He stood head and shoulders above her in height — about usual, for most guys she knew — and while he wasn’t too bulky, he was solidly built. Broad shoulders, tight muscles, but he moved like a dancer . . . Or a swimmer, she realised suddenly.

Probably a blitzball player, Rikku decided. She’d seen guys on the Psyches who were built like that. Though a mage that plays blitzball is kinda unusual . . .

“As it happens, I need a lift,” the guy said at last. “I was on my way to Besaid when my ship was wrecked, and I was marooned here. I will gladly be of assistance, if you could ferry me the rest of the way.”

“OK!” Rikku agreed. “Well, we’ve got a salvage job to do first, actually, if that’s all right — but we can go there right after!”

Brother would squawk, probably, but they had nearly killed the guy — and he hadn’t killed any of them for it. Besides, the alternative was trying to lug both of those two idiots back herself - and she just didn’t see it happening without a crane. She wasn’t in bad shape, really, but dead weight was dead weight. So if she had to persuade Brother to give the guy a lift just to keep her from throwing her back out, it was all good, right?

“Fair enough,” he replied.

“Great!” Rikku said. “Oh! I suppose we should introduce ourselves — I’m Rikku. The two idiots are Wed’j and B’iggs.”

“I’m Kurai,” came the answer from the cloaked back, as he knelt down — and hefted a man in each hand, like he was hoisting barrels!

He’s even stronger than he looks! Rikku thought, staring at the feat of strength, and almost as startled by the shock of blue-white hair that was revealed when Kurai’s rise loosened his hood. I’m suddenly really, really glad I decided not to fight him — and that he decided not to fight me!

“Lead the way please, Miss Rikku,” Kurai said, without so much as a hint of strain in his voice, as he turned to face her.

She gasped.








Kurai winced mentally at Rikku’s gasp, preparing himself for cries of “fiend” — or a suddenly hurled grenade.

When nothing happened after several moments, he ventured quietly, “Miss Rikku? Are you all right?”

She blinked. “Oh! Um . . . Yeah, I’m fine, I just . . . I hadn’t realised that Wed’j had been hit that hard.”

Glancing at his two passengers, he noted that the one in the crook of his left arm did have a fair amount of purple in his skin.

“It will fade,” Kurai assured her. “The spell I used isn’t lethal, by design. A couple of days’ rest, and he ought to be fine.”

Now it was Rikku’s turn to wince. “Nuts. That’s going to put a big crimp in our schedule.” After a moment, she looked up and asked with obvious embarrassment “. . . I don’t suppose you can swim — can you?”

“As it happens, I can.”

“How long can you hold your breath?”

At least nine hours and twenty minutes, in this form — but given that I can breathe underwater, I don’t usually have to. “A fairly long time . . . I assume that you’re about to ask for another favour?”

Rikku slumped as she sighed, “Yeah.”

“Then you’re in luck, Miss Rikku,” Kurai said, grinning. “Because that dejected expression of yours is simply too cute to refuse. Where do you need me to swim to, and for how long?”

“It’s just ‘Rikku,’” she corrected, in an oddly weak tone of voice. She was relieved, he supposed, that the Al Bhed’s project could continue progressing on schedule, after all.

Meanwhile, Kurai’s appeared to be going well. He’d looted the ruins to give himself some supplies, confirmed through fighting the resident fiends that his physical abilities, at least, seemed to be reasonably intact, and met Rikku. A little more violently than he’d planned to, granted — but now he’d be diving with her, and be able to help her with the fiends that infested the submerged ship.

And since he wasn’t Tidus, Sin wasn’t likely to cause him to be thrown overboard afterwards, which meant that the side trip to Besaid could go on as originally planned.

Although if worse comes to worst, I can always teleport there, or maybe get Ilya to open a Door . . . But either way, even though the timeline’s a bit fuzzy, I ought to reach Besaid in plenty of time to reach Yuna before she leaves for Kilika. Whether or not I can convince her to take me with her is another matter — but I can get to her quickly enough to try, at least. And if she won’t take me, there’s always the backup option . . .

On the whole, he was pleased — everything seemed set up to give him a decent shot at doing this properly. Granted, in his experience that was usually right before everything collapsed like a house of cards, but there was no real reason to think that, this time. He wasn’t a character in an RPG, existing solely to get pounded on by fate, and he wasn’t the scrawny geek with the same function, either.

Still, there was one out-of-place element here that bothered him, a question he couldn’t answer about everything that had happened so far — and he had a feeling that it was important.

. . . For just a second there, did I see Rikku — blushing?

[fsnfan]

Are you sure replacing Tidus is good idea? Despite the problems, I thought everything turned out well in the end. Also, without Tidus, Yuna won't have a sweetheart. Not to mention events in the second game was supposed to happen because Yuna was chasing a lead about Tidus.

[Kieran]

While I was never able to develop this story to the level I originally envisioned, I was reasonably satisfied with the results of the mission. You'll see more as I get the chapters back up (don't worry, Spira will be safe).

. . . And honestly, in going over this, I find myself remembering how much fun Rikku was to write.

[Xamusel]

Oh, Kieran, are you ever going to develop the story to the level you wanted at first?

[Kieran]

No - because it would probably end up being as long as the later "Trinity" books, and I doubt people would want me hogging Saber for that long. That was one of the reasons I ended the story where I did, originally.

[Xamusel]

Oh... no wonder.

Thanks for clarifying.

[fsnfan]

I'm a little disappointed that Shirou won't appear as a MC (I'm a fanboy, so sue me) but this really does look good. I'll definitely keep an eye on it. Especially since the one writing it is you, Kieran.

By the way, if I'm understanding the previous posts correctly, does this mean that you've actually finished this fic before? What happened to it?

[Xamusel]

He had to rewrite it on account of so many parts of the Works changing overall... plus Kurai's back story.

In the end, he re-released the story, after it was deleted (I think).

[Kieran]

I'm a little disappointed that Shirou won't appear as a MC (I'm a fanboy, so sue me) but this really does look good.

I know someone had a plan to use Shirou (and I was going to, when my character was going to be a DC Lantern), so sooner or later, the Works' driving force will get his chance.

I'll definitely keep an eye on it. Especially since the one writing it is you, Kieran.

Thank you very much.

By the way, if I'm understanding the previous posts correctly, does this mean that you've actually finished this fic before? What happened to it?

Yes. Basically . . .

He had to rewrite it on account of so many parts of the Works changing overall... plus Kurai's back story.

In the end, he re-released the story, after it was deleted (I think).

What he said.

[pureauthor]

I think you reposted your earliest response twice.

It's a good setup right before the real problems start happening, just as I recall, although I do want to ask why Ilya decided to send them in one by one and in different locations?

[Kieran]

DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. Dungeons and Dragons is the creation of Gary Gygax et al, and the Forgotten Realms are the creation of Ed Greenwood. Both are owned by Wizards of the Coast. Final Fantasy X, X-2, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Square-Enix, along with their employees Tetsuya Nomura, Yoshitaka Amano, and all the others who usually have a hand in developing their games.

This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.








Avalon Castle, Phantasmagoria Island








For the most part, she thought of and referred to herself as Arturia — for she was no longer the Servant Saber, even if most of her friends still used the title. And nor was she “King Arthur,” though her surname of “Pendragon” now held a certain irony for her.

It was also more than a little unsettling, given that she’d had no real time or opportunity throughout her long life to discover who “Arturia” truly was. Always before, there had been a duty, a reason to set that portion of her identity aside — and to play a role that did not allow her to consider her true self. She was ever obliged to be a tool, or more often a weapon, and serve others’ interests, whether it was as knight, king, or Servant.

And now, while there was still a cause to be had in the mission of this “Grail Works,” and a noble one, to be sure, its structure was less ordered, less simple than those she’d known before. Arturia was finally left with no assigned role to play, to be — there was nothing to hide her true nature behind any longer; not from anyone, even herself.

That idea alone would unnerve her, but when one was forced to ask the question of whether or not anything of herself could be found within the form of an aquatic dragon that filled most of a room, as well . . .

Certainly, none of my knights would recognise me now, were they to behold the beast that I’ve become, she thought grimly. More likely, they’d hunt me for sport. Perhaps Merlin might see the woman inside the dragon — but I would not know her, myself. I’ve never been allowed to be simply a woman . . .

And it appears as though I am still to be denied that freedom.

Even more disturbing to her, Arturia had noticed recently that the influence of the dragon had even bled a little into her human appearance. Her once-purely golden hair now held a slight brownish tint, and there was touch of turquoise in her formerly emerald eyes, which would match those of her draconic form. With a conscious effort, she could banish it, and fully appear as she remembered herself - but the fact that the effort was needed . . .

It’s meant to be a reminder, I’m sure, that my appearance is simply that — a shell, a mask. I am what they once accused me of being, now: a human only in semblance.

Logically, she knew that there were others she could speak to regarding her concerns over her remaining humanity — and they would not simply refute her concerns, as Shirou might. Ilyasviel could certainly empathise with her condition, and she understood that Akiha Tohno held a measure of inhuman blood, herself.

On the other hand, Rider had never been human, despite her form, but Arcueid Brunestud knew something of wishing to be other than what she was. Unfortunately, Arturia was not at all sure how to broach the subject. She was not particularly close to any of them, nor was she at all well-versed in the ritual known as “girl talk” — an unfortunate consequence of her upbringing and former lifestyle.

Arturia sighed to herself, knowing that her problems would have to wait; there was work to be done. And at least this promised to be thoroughly distracting, and for a worthwhile goal.

Still . . .

Arturia stood in the chapel, glancing around. Since the castle’s creation, they’d been using it for storing whatever magical treasures they came across here, given that it had the strongest magical protections of the entire castle. And of late, it had become her bedchamber, as well.

While she was certainly used to sleeping in rough conditions, given her preference, she’d prefer to be in a number of other spaces. Alas, the chapel, while not one of them, was one of the few places large enough to accommodate her dragon form.

And, though she refused to really admit it to herself, there was something innately pleasurable to her about being surrounded by the various items they’d taken to storing in the room. More than once, she’d awakened to find herself curled around the heavily-warded column that contained the Holy Grail, or with her side burrowed into the mound of stuffed animals she’d been amassing for herself. And while she was certain that everything here would be perfectly safe in her absence, she felt certain level of reluctance in leaving it all behind, even temporarily.

From what she knew of dragons, the reason for her reluctance was obvious — her newfound instincts loathed abandoning what they considered “hers” — but she found the sensation even more unpleasant, given its origins.

With a sigh of resignation, Arturia’s form blurred, replacing a five-foot blonde girl with a seven-foot-tall dragon, bronze scales gleaming brightly in the light thrown off by the glowing runes which surrounded the Grail’s containment system. Stretching herself out fully — thirty-one feet long, with a thirty-six-foot wingspan — Arturia did a lap around the room, surveying everything carefully.

Yes, it was all here. Yes, all the spells and materials which protected it were intact. Shy of her actual presence, it was as safe as it could possibly be.

Satisfied, she resumed her human shape, and snatched the stuffed lion from the top of her pile of plushies. If she couldn’t take them all with her — and it simply wasn’t practical — then at least she’d have something. And maybe she’d find something during the mission to add to her collection (she consciously refused to call it a “hoard”).

Tucking the doll into her backpack, Arturia double-checked her belt pouch for the “Gil” it held (not her favourite name, for a currency or anything else) and the ties that cinched her new sword to her belt.

Once she was assured that she had all she’d need, she said aloud, “I am ready, Ilya — Door.”

She stepped forth into the glowing shape, and dropped into seawater with a splash — seconds before a brightly-coloured ball landed in the water beside her. Tracking its trajectory back to the men waving in her direction, Arturia picked it up and tossed, putting a little more strength than necessary into the throw.

When the impact launched the catcher onto his back, the others stared in shock — and got a second one when they realised she’d nearly closed the distance between them in the time it took the ball to return.

The former king suppressed a smug smile. There were benefits to her new state, after all — she was a powerful swimmer, now, among other things. Perhaps not Servant level, but more than human, even in human form.

“My apologies — I had not intended to do you harm,” she stated. “Are you seriously hurt?”

The player was sputtering a bit, staring at her, before turning to the tall man with red hair — the one she had to impress, Ilya had said. Wakka.

“Cap’n,” he said solemnly, “do us a favour, ‘n’ hire her. Got an arm like that, and she swims like a fish? We could use her.”

The redhead looked at her speculatively. “You play blitzball?”

“I can learn,” Arturia said in a noncommittal tone. “But there is something I must attend to, first.” She put on her best imploring expression, and asked, “Would you please direct me to Besaid Temple? I seek an audience with an apprentice Summoner there — Yuna del Braska.”

His eyebrows shot up as he blurted, “Yuna? Why you be looking for her, hah?”

Arturia disliked deceit, but consoled herself with the knowledge that every word she spoke was true, when taken in the proper context. “It was the will of my teacher Auron that I offer myself as her guardian — as he guarded her father, High Summoner Braska.”

Auron’s name was repeated in whispers by the group, and Wakka rubbed the back of his head, as she’d seen Shirou do when he was confused, or embarrassed.

“Auron?” Wakka repeated with surprise. “He disappeared ‘bout ten years back — nobody’s heard nothin’ from him.”

“Nevertheless,” Arturia said firmly, “I have my mission, and I will complete it. Will you assist me in this?”

He chuckled. “Well, you sure sound like one of them warrior monks — I guess you oughtta be the real deal. Can’t see anybody lookin’ to hurt Yuna nohow, and it can’t hurt to ask her if she wants you, ya? Gotta warn you, though — she’s got a couple’a guardians already, and they’re the really protective type, ya? Gettin’ them to trust you’s gonna be the real tricky part.”

“I will deal with the challenges as they arise,” Arturia said confidently. She’d been a warrior king, but diplomacy was a skill she’d learned, over the years. It simply wasn’t her preferred method of problem solving.

He shrugged. “OK, den. I’ll take ya to Besaid — we’ll see how it goes from there, ya?”

Without a hint of mockery, she repeated, “Ya.”

Step one, accomplished.








Al Bhed Salvage Ship








Like she’d figured, Brother argued long and hard against their latest passenger, but Rikku pointed out that he’d hauled two of their people aboard with about as much effort as it took to carry a pair of pillows, and that annoying him was probably a bad idea — and since they already had . . .

“He’s already agreed to work for his passage!” she hissed in Al Bhed. “He took on a big freaking fiend all by himself, beat it, and he didn’t dice us into cutlets for threatening to kill him! I think he’s probably been as nice as he’s going to be about all this — and I really don’t want to see what he’ll do when he’s decided not to be nice!”

“Pah!” Brother snorted. “We can handle him.”

“Your friends thought so, too,” Kurai replied in Al Bhed.

Rikku let out a startled squeal at the sudden interruption, before blushing furiously. She hadn’t heard him approach, and she took a vindictive satisfaction in seeing an uneasy expression pass over Brother’s face, meaning that he hadn’t, either. But in her swiftly-growing catalogue of “Scary Stuff Kurai Can Do,” it was just one more new addition.

Strong enough to hoist two guys with no problem, quick enough to fire off two spells before anybody can react — and tough enough to stand in the blast zone of one, while it knocks those same two guys for a loop, on top of that! And now, he’s as quiet as a grain of sand rolling down a dune. Is there anything this guy isn’t good at? And who the heck gets good at all these things? Mages don’t sweat and blitzball players don’t learn magic . . .

“You speak our language?” Rikku asked, trying to sound casual.

“Enough to get by,” Kurai said, before saying bluntly, “Two hundred Gil.”

“Eh?” the two Al Bhed inquired.

“I’ll offer two hundred Gil, plus labour, for my passage to Besaid,” Kurai explained. “It’s a day’s travel, at best — and I have my own supplies, so I won’t be consuming your ship’s stores, other than fuel.”

Rikku stared at her brother stonily — or at least, as stonily as somebody as cute as her could manage, which she admitted to herself, probably wasn’t very.

But he was being such a dope! Sure, two hundred wasn’t much, but Kurai was offering a fair bit for a day’s work, considering how people usually treated theirs. It was one day — and if they did it right, their work here could be done by tomorrow. And it wasn’t as though they didn’t have the fuel for the trip — you always set out with more stores than you thought you’d need, just in case of things like this.

“Sure!” she answered before Brother could open his mouth. “Maybe you could teach this bunch how to fight properly.” She fixed Brother with a death glare, and said very clearly, “Just so that they don’t end up getting taken out by somebody they had the drop on and outnumbered three to one . . . You know, again.”

Brother winced, taking the hint. “Yeah, sure — welcome aboard. Um, Rikku said you dive?”

“Whenever she’s ready to go,” Kurai said

“Right,” Rikku said. “Just let me grab my toolkit . . .” She hadn’t figured she’d need it while exploring the ruins — they’d been hunting fiends, not machina. It had been ready to go, though, and was quickly affixed to its place on her belt. “All set!”

“Then lead the way,” Kurai said, and she dove, feeling a ripple in the water as he dove in beside her — but a lot less than she’d have expected to, from such a big guy. He really did know how to swim.

The way to the airship was almost a completely straight drop, so it was an easy descent; no wiggling through rocks, or cracks, or vents. They did get attacked by piranha fiends, but Kurai was really quick at chopping them up.

The blade of his sword, she noticed, radiated some kind of crawly black aura, like it had a Dark effect attached to it — it looked really creepy, especially in the dim light. But if it was supposed to blind things, she never got the chance to find out, since the fiends usually dissolved in one blow.

The only real trouble they had was when the fiends came in swarms — two or three mega-clumps of them attacking at once. Then she had to dodge around a bit, until one of them was able to kill them off. But, hey, at least she got to steal a few grenades off them before they became fish fry!

When they got to the first major door, Rikku grinned at the sight of the control panel — now it was her turn to work magic! She swam up, and started fiddling with it.

You might be tall, dark and have a heavy dose of all-around awesome in your veins, Kurai, but I’ve got the touch! Bow down before my might over machina!

If she’d been able to, Rikku would’ve hummed while she worked, thoroughly enjoying showing off in her element — and OK, maybe she wiggled around a bit, too. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to be appreciated for all her assets, right? It was always nice when people realised that she wasn’t just a pretty face, but it was also nice when they noticed that she had one of those, too.

As long as they’re not cheek-pinching grandmothers, Rikku added mentally, unable to suppress a shudder. She’d had enough of those to last her a lifetime.

They swam in, with Kurai handling the piranha that decided they looked good enough to munch on, until they reached the main power room. Checking the displays, she couldn’t believe it — but it was unmistakable. Even after so many years, this place actually did have —

A sudden iron vise clamped around her shoulder, and Rikku found herself being hauled away. She was so surprised that she nearly spoke, before her underwater training regarding conserving her air took hold, and she settled for levelling a death glare at the cloaked fighter, instead.

HEY! What’s the big idea of just grabbing me like that, you —?

A really big tentacle chose that moment to stab between them, and Rikku cancelled her thought, replacing it with thankful prayers instead. Especially since the thing seemed to barely be fazed by one of her grenades, or Kurai’s creepy-looking sword. Oh, it was feeling the pain, all right — but this wasn’t a one-hit wonder like the piranha fiends.

And worse, it was persistent, too; she’d had to aim her grenade carefully, and duck tentacles . . . Well, actually, no she didn’t. Every time the thing looked like it was about to hit her, Kurai was between her and the blow — sometimes between blinks of her eyes!

Ouch — that’s gotta hurt. I mean, it’s not that I don’t appreciate it, or anything, but how much more can he take, really? And can I learn to do — well, any of the stuff he’s done? Pretty, pretty please?

Spotting an opening, Rikku lobbed a grenade at one of the injured patches on the squid thing’s body, near its eyes. The second blast was apparently too much for its injured head to take, because the explosion caused it to collapse into a quickly-dissolving mass of pyreflies.

Oh yeah! Down you go!

After that, it was a piece of cake. She got the power reconnected, and they headed back while the other divers came down to put the towing lines in place. It gave her time to think, about exactly who and what Kurai actually was . . . And if she could somehow manage to finagle herself an excuse to give “her hero” a kiss.

It shouldn’t be too hard — after all, realistically he’d probably saved her life four or five times down there, at least. Not that she couldn’t have handled things herself just fine, but it had been nice to have the help. So really, it was only polite, right? And she’d get the chance to kiss a good-looking guy, and not have it mean anything that anybody could get upset over — not a chance that came around too often.

And having an excuse like that is good, because if he’s at good at kissing as he seems to be at everything else, then I’m in for a real treat!

Rikku’s underwater training was the only reason she didn’t burst into a giggle at the thought.








Kurai sighed as they broke the surface. Mission complete, successful — and best of all, Rikku’s not even scratched.

Granted, it had taken a little longer than he’d hoped (about two rounds, he estimated. Maybe three, tops), but in the end, taking out the Tros hadn’t been too difficult. It might’ve been over faster if he’d trusted his spells to function underwater, but unleashing anything electrical in a conductive atmosphere had seemed like a spectacularly bad idea, given the usual physics of such an action . . .

“Are you OK?” she piped up. “It looked like you took a pretty good beating down there.”

“I’m fine, Rikku,” he assured her.

“You sure?” she pressed. “Don’t go all macho on me, now — I get tired of watching all these would-be tough guys put off their injuries until the pain’s so bad they start whining like little girls — and don’t say it!”

Her warning glare prevented more than the hint of a smile from forming on his lips — but honestly, an annoyed Rikku was good, because it meant that she wasn’t focussed on his injuries, and risked discovering that they’d vanished on the trip up to the surface.

My appearance is odd enough and I’m lucky she hasn’t asked about it — but throw in my healing factor, and well . . .

“I wasn’t going to say a word,” he said mildly.

“You were thinking it though, weren’t you?”

Now he smiled — just a little, to tease.

She let out a growl. “Ooooh — I oughtta —!”

“Sin!” called a deckhand frantically, pointing.

“WHAT?!” Kurai and Rikku cried simultaneously, whirling in the appropriate direction.

What the hell is it doing here? I’m not freaking Tidus — it shouldn’t be tracking me! There aren’t enough of us here to qualify as a population worth attacking, and it can’t be protecting Dream Zanarkand, because that is hundreds of miles to the northeast of here . . .

Isn’t it?

Impossible or not, the creature was still approaching them, and it definitely qualified for the “Colossal+ “size category. Meaning it rightfully belonged in the Epic Level Handbook, and that meant he was in trouble — most of the stuff in there could kill him out of hand.

And I wanted to take this thing on by myself? What was I, nuts?! . . . Well, yeah, insanity is my general state of mind, but —

FOCUS! I’ve got to get these people out of here!

Kurai ran through his list of available spells, cursing the fact that they were at sea — the bulk of his spells were useless here. Worse, against a target that big, a lot of his best options would be weakened, or ineffective. Still, there wasn’t much choice, and if he remembered right about the way Sin was put together, this might really hurt it.

But whether it did or not, he’d have to move fast, before Sin got close enough to mentally connect the spell’s effect with the people on the deck. Aiming for an area near the tail, he concentrated . . .

“Reverse Gravity!”

A ripple passed through the air surrounding his target, and pyrefiles began streaming off Sin’s carapace, streaking towards the sky. Kurai’s spell was designed to affect a cubic area with a perimeter of a hundred and ten feet — small compared to the overall size of the creature, but a reasonable chunk of its rear. And it did succeed in getting his attention: Sin, by nature, was a collection of pyrefiles held together by monstrous levels of gravity magic. Inverting the flow was actually capable of causing it damage.

And being Sin, it responded to a perceived attack on its rear by turning to confront the supposed threat — and it was only then that Kurai remembered the likely effect of thousands of tons of monster turning at speed on the open water.

At a glance, the resulting tidal wave was a good hundred feet high, at least.

He chained two spells together: control water and a targeted greater dispel magic on the same effect. The first spell created a depression in the ocean, a pseudo-whirlpool that sucked the tidal wave into it until it was barely two inches high - and caused the ship to list wildly. It would’ve pinned them in place, save for the second spell, which negated the first — and caused the ship to heave again.

It took a fair bit of concentration to get the dispelling off under those conditions and maintain his balance, but he had presence of mind to do it — and to hear Rikku scream as she pitched overboard with the second movement.

Kurai was in the ocean almost before she hit the water, wincing as she took a lungful of the stuff while submerged. Some of it looked black, even to his colourless darkvision — Sin was close enough that its natural toxin was seeping into the water, apparently. Between his immunity to non-magical poisons and his resistance to mind-altering effects, he ought to be safe, but Rikku . . .

The ship was already moving — the Al Bhed aboard would hate themselves for abandoning her, but it was the correct call to get themselves away before Sin decided to resume its original course. And if Sin was tracking him for some reason, it would happen soon.

He needed to get to Rikku before she drowned, get her somewhere safe enough that he could start healing her — and far enough away that Sin couldn’t have a trail to follow. Which really only left one option, under the circumstances.

Kurai grabbed the thrashing Al Bhed girl and hauled them both to the surface. Panicking, she resumed struggling — not that he blamed her. Who knew how much of her mind she had left, under the toxin? Still, he managed to hold onto her, and get close enough to whisper in her ear.

“Let me help you.”

Her frenzied movements subsided, and Kurai concentrated on a peaceful place, far from Sin, innocent Al Bhed — or Al Bhed haters that might interfere, and hoped it was within range . . .

A brief sense of displacement, and they were gone.








The pond was as he remembered — though far brighter, in daylight. Rikku thrashed a little, startled, but without the imminent threat of drowning, or being accidentally crushed by the salvage ship or the giant monster, Kurai was able to slam a heal spell into the girl, and she immediately went limp, allowing him to drag them both to shore, and assess her condition.

Just out cold from the shock — nothing more serious than that, he finally decided.

That was good. Magical healing was always tricky; the sudden loss of pain and damage could be as devastating to the body as the actual injuries, causing recipients to go into shock. It was usually better to use a series of lower-level healing spells, and allow them to adjust gradually — but without knowing the exact effects of Sin’s toxin, heal had been his best option. It was basically a panacea for everything short of amputation, and would hopefully flush the stuff from her system.

The druid sighed, and started considering options. With the teleport used up, he couldn’t get to Besaid for at least a day — and he’d have to take Rikku back to somewhere she could reach her people. Unfortunately, the Al Bhed’s “Home” wasn’t one of the places he’d memorised — it would have to be somewhere else.

Maybe they could go to Luca? The blitzball city did have a tournament coming up, and there was an Al Bhed blitzball team, if he recalled correctly. And once he’d packed her off, he could try asking Spira to move him to Besaid directly; he had a spell that would let him do that. It was just going to be a pain if anyone spotted him emerging from the ground —

“My head’s all tingly . . .” Rikku groaned in Al Bhed, before her eyes widened and she bolted upright. “Ohmigosh — Sin!”

Suddenly registering the lack of monsters, ships, and seawater, the blonde girl blinked and looked around, visibly bewildered.

“Is this — Macalania Woods?” she asked incredulously. “How did we get here? That’s like, miles and miles and miles to the northeast!”

Kurai stilled. Macalania Woods? That wasn’t right — wasn’t this supposed to be the Moonflow River?

No, he realised abruptly, and you’ve made that mistake before, remember?

He did, now that he thought about it; remembering waiting for a cutscene that had never appeared until he’d reached the aforementioned woods, far later in the game than he’d expected.

That means we’re several tens of miles away from where I thought we were — damn it all to hell . . .

“You did this, didn’t you?” Rikku demanded in English. “Tell me how! Is it some Guado trick?”

Kurai’s eyebrows rose. Guado? He supposed that there might be a slight resemblance — the Guado had an elven cast to their features, and oddly-coloured hair. He might pass as Guado to someone who’d never met one — or maybe a half-Guado, like Seymour . . .

Rikku’s eyes narrowed, and she stamped her foot. “I’m serious, buster! Since we met, you’ve got all kinds of bizarro stuff going on around you, and I want some explanations for it — now!”

Kurai sighed, not sure which part of the situation to be more upset about. It was a tough call: he’d managed to get himself almost completely lost, he’d managed to start screwing up his mission in a matter of hours, and there seemed to be some karmic destiny laid on him to antagonise petite, green-eyed blondes.

Then again, I suppose it could be worse. I could have something really bizarre and/or socially unacceptable, instead — like an unconscious lolicon aura that attracted underage girls . . .

He shuddered.

Rikku’s glare was unrelenting. “I’m waiting.”

Sighing again, Kurai began, “Well, it’s like this . . .”

I think you reposted your earliest response twice.

Thanks for pointing it out - fixed!

It's a good setup right before the real problems start happening, just as I recall, although I do want to ask why Ilya decided to send them in one by one and in different locations?

Partly because Ilya figured it would be easier to convince Saber after things were underway (and Kurai was far away). Also Saber's presence would be easier to explain if she showed up in Auron's company, whereas Kurai's would be harder to, given his unusual appearance and skills. In addition, rescuing Rikku was a side-mission that really only required one of them to do - and by attacking the problem from multiple angles, the hope was that if one of them got into trouble, the other could still complete the mission.