Prologue

Copyright MHS

She is my dependable White Mage, and I her courageous Paladin; Together, we are one.

I first witnessed her compassion and beauty outside of the Royal City of San d'Oria in the King's Forest. She was kneeling amongst the earthy grass and leaves- recovering herself- when I passed by. A tattered brown robe with the edges of the sleeves frayed and torn adorned her delicate body, signaling to her inexperience. An oaken staff lay resting on the cool ground by her side, undoubtedly her weapon for protection in a forest that offers none. With slightly tanner skin than Humes usually have and chestnut brown hair, words are at a loss even now as I try to justify her beauty. My curiosity was piqued, for it was rare to see a Hume so far away from their homeland that was the Republic of Bastok, much less in the Elvaan capitol of San d'Oria.

Stopping next to her, I noticed a few cuts on her arm where the dirtied sleeves of the robe didn't cover, and decided to kneel down next to her. She seemed hesitant when I held my hand out to her, motioning to show me the wounds. Slowly, I felt her comply and I took hold of her injured arm and examined the wound. The cuts were deep, but not too deep to warrant emergency medical attention from the Cathedral. Blood ran along her arm, tainting the smooth tan skin with its crimson essence. A forest hare must have done this, as the claws of that kind of beast matched the cut perfectly. I breathed deeply, and lowered my head as if to pray.

My eyes closed and I felt the cool breeze of the forest blow through my dark brown medium-length hair. Knowing that performing any act that required a magical essence demanded concentration, I sighed in an effort to relax myself. A tingling sensation seeped its way through my arm, and a cloudy lethargy flowed into my mind. Blue light surrounded my hand, glowing with faint power as I pressed my hand against her wound. Cold blood greeted my hand as it touched, contrasting the warmth that encompassed my hand. I held her arm firmly from her wince in an effort to focus the energy solely on the wound, a hissed breath coming from her in reaction to the pain.

After the light faded I pulled my hand away from her arm and loosened my grip. We both cast a glance at the wound- Or where it used to be, at least. Scars remained where it had once been, but I am not nearly experienced enough to be able to completely remove a wound and any traces of it. I felt her eyes on me and looked up to meet her glance. The once scared, deep brown eyes had softened to a much more delicate and caring expression and I saw her thin lips curl into a smile at me.

Testing the strength of her newly-healed arm, I could tell that the pain had not completely subsided with the injury from her jerky movements. Although it was a rather shabby job at healing, the fact that a squire could even use such energy was remarkable in itself. Standing at my full height, I lowered my hand down, offering for her to take it to help herself off of the cool earthy forest floor. With a smile and a nod, her warm skin touched mine and I proceeded in helping her.

That first meeting was the start of our wondrous friendship, and a short walk later we found ourselves in my home sharing lunch and formalities. Zoey, as I later found out was her name, had come from Bastok to San d’Oria in an effort to seek proper training as a White Mage. My appearance in the forest was the first Hume she had seen in over a fortnight, and was a welcome sight. We spent much of the day talking, and as evening approached she cast a dubious glance out the window of my common room.

“Is something wrong?” I asked, feeling her apprehensiveness of the hour.

“Not…quite. I’m just not sure what to do, I’m not sure if I have the money to spend the night in town.” Eyes cast downward in confusion at what to do, and I knew that spending a night in the King’s Forest could easily be fatal. My mind turned over possible solutions for this, and before I knew it my mouth had blurted something out.

“You could spend the night with me.” Zoey looked at me with an expression of total shock, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, and with a stutter replied rather weakly,

“I appreciate your hospitality, but I’ve only just met you… and I don’t think that’s very appropriate.” She lowered her eyes shamefully, her voice turning stern. “I didn’t know that you had a motive in your generosity.” Zoey moved to stand up, but stopped herself when she heard the tone of apology in my voice.

“Please Zoey, I didn’t mean it that way. I have an extra room, I can stay in there and you can use my bed. No tricks, promise.” The examination her eyes were giving made me slightly nervous, though I could tell she was looking for a trick. With a nod from Zoey we excused ourselves from the table and I led her to my room upstairs. The wooden stairs creaked and wobbled slightly, though I knew they would hold. Everything in this house-including itself- was made by my father, a veteran woodworker. Although they were all created almost twenty years ago, the house and its contents were still quite reliable and sturdy. At the top of the stairs there was a short hallway with a room ahead and a room to the right. Both rooms had doors made from solid oak, and I led Zoey to the room straight ahead. Opening the door led to a rather plain room, a mahogany dresser, a maple bed with bronze lining, and a single window were all that found their home in the bedroom.

I held the door open for Zoey, allowing her to enter and get a grasp on the surroundings of the room.

“I’ll be right down the hall if you need me, we’ll go to the Cathedral tomorrow morning. Pleasant dreams, Zoey.” I watched her nod to me before I closed the door gently and walked the few feet to the other bedroom. Shutting the heavy door behind me I looked at the empty room, slightly dusty from the lack of use or action with it. Shrugging my shoulders with a sigh, I slid against the far wall and relaxed, stretching my limbs. After removing my armor I rest my head against the wall, and let the lethargy of sleep slowly take me.

I took Zoey to the Cathedral in the morning after a short tour of the San d'Orian streets. San d'Oria's architecture followed a more traditional style, including ramparts and castles. The streets were paved with smoothed cobblestone; more than likely to make it easier for Chocobo claws to find traction. We passed through Victory Square into the northern sections of the city, and took the short trek along the Parade Grounds to the Cathedral. I walked with her across the bridge, our feet thunking on the solid oak walkway. Passing into the interior we shuffled past a few patrons up to an exceptionally tall Elvaan wearing a black and blue robe, who greeted us cordially.

“Greetings young ones, I am Arnau. How may I assist in your path of enlightenment?”

And that's how Zoey started her apprenticeship as a White Mage.

Every day she trained, starting at dawn and finishing the day's education by midday lunch. I would always come and wait for her on a wooden bench outside the Cathedral. We would usually stop by my small house in southern San d'Oria for lunch, and she would tell me all about what she had learned that day; Whether it be various pilgrimages or even an attempt at using magic herself. I would occasionally take her out into the forest to put her training to the test, whether it be in ambushing a small group of the weaker Orcs, or practicing her skill on the occasional passerby if they required it.

Zoey was quite a remarkable student, and caught on to things very quickly; She was very smart, witty, and possessed a wonderful sense of humor. The compassion and dedication she had made her very accepting to the White Mage core beliefs- to heal the broken, the wounded, and the damned. Zoey also had a very active mouth; Loving to discuss various matters from politics to various happenings in the forest. Our most heated discussions and debates usually took place while we would fish for moat carp in the southern tip of the King's Forest, at the Knightwell pond.

Days, weeks, and months flew by, and each day we watched each other grow in experience and knowledge. Every day she trained, and every day I would accomplish various tasks set out by the gatehouse guards while I waited for her.

One day, she did not come out of the Cathedral.

I waited as usual for her, outside on the bench that was unofficially claimed as my waiting bench, and busied myself with the thought of her napping from exhaustion on one of the church's velvet prayer blankets. Midday turned to dusk, and I sat silently watching commoners pass and go; they being too absorbed into their own affairs to wonder why I had been sitting on the bench of myself.

I waited until the sun threatened to flee the sky, and got up achingly from my seat. After stretching a moment I walked lethargically toward my house, weakened from the hunger caused by the absence of my usual lunch with my companion. Though my house was small, it was quite comfortable and was located right outside southern San d'Oria's Lion Square. The house and its contents were my only inheritance from my passed parents.

I was but a baby when they died, not even old enough to walk or talk. The King sent out an expeditionary force to Jugner Forest to scope out the Orcish land of Davoi, and the mission resulted in a catastrophic failure. Every member of the squad, and even one of the Chocobos, was found slain a week later by a search party led by the Temple Knights, and their leader Lady Curilla. I was landed in the San d'Orian orphanage until I would turn fifteen, and would then inherit my parents old residence and their belongings.

But this was no time to fret about the past, as I had a situation in the present. I was alone.

After opening the heavy door to my house, I locked it behind me with a resonating click, and turned to face my common room. Despite my absence the house was full of life, candles lit, and two plates with various foods were placed on the wooden table in the corner of the room. A slight string of steam from both of them let me know that they had not been there long.

“No Lady Zoey tonight, kupo?” I heard a squeeky voice pitch out. I turned to see my moogle hovering in the air toward the kitchen, the fluttering of his bat-like wings all too apparent in the silent room.

“No, not tonight, Mog. I know not where she is. She never left the Cathedral.” I voiced out toward him, my words thickly laden with my current emotion of worry. I could tell he sensed my apprehension at the subject with the discouraged nod that he gave me before fluttering into the kitchen to busy himself with something.

Moogles are interesting creatures, and Mog was no different. They were not very large, maybe about the size of an adult Eft that roamed the Bibiki Bay, about one-and-a-half to two feet in length. Fine white fur covered their bodies, with a button nose and hallowed-but friendly- eyes. Two thin bat-like wings kept them in the air, and given their relation to the moogles size, it is odd how they manage to float with them.

Mog's unhealthy addiction to taking care of the house bothered and worried me when I first moved into the it, although after four years of experiencing it I had grown quite accustomed to the home-cooked meals and the spotless floors. He can be a pain sometimes, as he guilted me into giving him a bow, and a ring made of beetle shell so that he could surprise his father. I gave them to him though, as it was a small price to pay for his services around the house.

I walked over to the table where the food rest, and sat down in one of the wooden chairs. I looked down at the meal of grilled rabbit meat, steamed cabbage, and baked bread. As much as I would like to wait for Zoey to come by so I could share the delicious meal with her, my stomach simply would not allow it, and I began eating ravenously. The meat was succulent, slightly salty but with just the right amount of it, and it went well with the cabbage, which seems to have been steamed with olive oil, giving it a not-overly-chewy texture. The bread went well by itself, its seasoning packed with plenty of flavor.

I gulped down the cup with cool water next to the plate in one shot, and finished my meal. After leaning back in the chair for a moment to have a last moment to savor the flavor, I stood up and picked up both plates and walked to the kitchen.. I put my plate in a on top of a counter in a wooden bucket with slightly used dishwater which I used for cleaning, and left it there for Mog to take care of whenever he came downstairs from whatever he was doing. I reached down and pulled on a drawer in the counter.

The wood was very cool to the touch, and I looked inside at my own creation. I lined the framework of the drawer with ice crystals, and used this drawer to keep food fresh until I could finish it. I set the plate on a wooden panel over the crystals next to an almost frozen rarab stew, and closed the drawer. I was in the middle of washing my hands in the slightly murky water when there came a sudden thudding on the front door. Startled, I splashed a little water on my leather chestpiece, but grabbed a small towel and wiped my hands and armor off before setting it down and heading for the door.

'I wonder what took her so long.' I thought to myself as I swung the heavy door open. A figure burst in, knocking me over onto my back with a loud grunt from my chest. I coughed and groaned as I recovered, feeling adrenaline begin to flow through my veins. I threw the assaulter off of me and to the side, sending him crashing into the wall while getting up quickly to get a good look at them before they tried to run away.

I let my muscles relax to the best of their induced ability and slowed my breathing as I realized who it was.

“Sevyr, is that you?” I asked almost quizzically, both sure and unsure of who it was. He coughed a few times before replying,

“Yeah Ken, It's me, damn you're rough when you're angry.” Sevyr said in his normal half-serious tone.

“Well what's the big deal? Why're you busting into my house? I know you're a thief and everything, but I thought we were friends.” I questioned him, although fully knowing he would never steal from me. Sevyr looked up at me and if realizing something grabbed my arm quickly, and tugged me to the door.

“Ken! We have to go! Zoey's in trouble!” He said as he futilely tried to pull me along.

“Speak sense, what do you mean?” I sternly asked him, tearing my arm out of his grip.

“There were peacetalks with the Orcs today in Ghelsba, and my source on the inside tells me they're being held hostage!”