A Day in the Life--Part 3 and Epilogue

by Themis56

Themis56@aol.com

Hey howdy hey! Heeeeeere it is, the conclusion to A Day in the Life! Whew! This was harder to write than I thought! I worked my butt off nearly a whole week to finish this! You’d better enjoy it! :)

This portion of this fic is sorta my answer to the question: "Why does Rosa latch on to Cecil like that?" I mean, in the game Rosa doesn’t seem to be able to separate herself from Cecil for one second without complaining about it. I wondered about her over-protectiveness, and I thought that I might make my own answer for it. I hope I succeeded. But, ultimately, this isn’t about answering questions to the game! This is about writing and fun, dangnabit! So sit back, relax, get a hankie or two, and enjoy!

One last warning: THIS IS A VERY INTENSE, VERY DARK FIC! I have sorta gone off the mild, rather light mood of the two earlier parts of A Day in the Life. This part is very dark, has a rather gory, bloody scene, and discusses rather dark emotions and adult situations (Not sex; I don’t write smut, although I hear in the Japanese version of FFIV, Rosa and Cecil have been sleeping together on a long-time basis. I don’t do that, so I don’t bring it up. I mean rather heavy subjects like depression and cruelty and political situations. Stuff like that.) So, if you happen to be of a squeamish type, be forewarned. This baby’s rated R! Parents, watch your kiddies. Thank ya much!

One last time: Rosa, Cecil, and others are property of Squaresoft. Aelia’s my character. STUPID LAWYERS!

Enjoy!--Themis56

PART THREE

Now that Rosa had freely admitted her love for Cecil, there was a hitch. Rosa was still a lowly maid--although she was held in the highest regard by most of the castle, including the King--and Cecil was a Dark Knight Captain, soon to be commanding an airship of his own. Thus, it was hardly proper for them to publicly admit their feelings for one another...at least, not until Rosa was promoted to a true White Wizard. Both Rosa and Cecil were unhappy with this state of affairs, but neither was brave enough to breach the wall of social etiquette.

Still, nothing could hold them back from expressing their love for one another, and they did so in many discreet, rather clever ways. For instance: when they would be chatting affably in the library, seeming to be nothing more than good friends, Cecil would surreptitiously slip a piece of paper, a love note, into Rosa’s book. Rosa, being a maid, had access to the kitchens; she would bake Cecil--she was an excellent cook--one of his favorite desserts and slip it into his pouch when they ‘accidentally’ brushed up against each other in the hall. Thus in these ingenious ways they sent all sorts of tokens between them: flowers, notes, a new scarf, a new dagger, all those trinkets that seem silly to people who hear about it but are like receiving diamonds and gold to the ones actually exchanging the gifts.

And, once in a great while, they actually managed to be alone together. These meetings were brief, but they were sweet like honey to Rosa’s soul; she lived for them.

Of course, such matters can’t go unnoticed forever. None of the Court members knew anything about it, thank Bahamut for that, nor did any of the soldiers; but the maids and servants did. Nothing could be kept hidden for long from Rosa’s co-workers, who now giggled behind their hands when they thought she couldn’t hear or flashed her an occasional knowing smile. However, there was some code of ethics among the maids; they might whisper among themselves, but they held Rosa in enough esteem to never say a word about it to the higher-bred occupants of the castle. They kept their secrets so well, in fact, that only three high-standing people knew about the love between Cecil and Rosa. Rosa didn’t have a doubt in her mind that any of these three would betray her or Cecil to the Court or King.

Cecil had freely told Cid--the Engineer had known the young Dark Knight even longer than he had Rosa--about the new depth added to their relationship, and the stocky little man had been delighted by the news. He sometimes gave Rosa a knowing wink while they talked, but he rarely brought up the matter, and never in public. He knew how shy Rosa was about romantic matters.

Kain and Aunt Aelia, however, had not received the news with quite as much enthusiasm as Cid did.

When the news had first been broken to the Dragoon, all Kain did was sniff and give them both an incredulous look. It was almost as if he couldn’t fathom the fact that two such close friends would ever be so bold as to take their relationship beyond the platonic. Kain never brought up the subject on his own, and if Rosa or Cecil even mentioned it, he would scowl slightly and mutter under his breath. Rosa didn’t understand this strange behavior, and it worried her slightly.

The one least pleased by the news, however, had been Aunt Aelia. When Rosa had first told her aunt, the woman had stared at her for a long time, looking utterly poleaxed by the news. Aelia looked as if she had been slapped right in the face.

"You mustn’t!" Aunt Aelia had managed to choke out.

"Why not? What’s wrong with it? It’s not like it’s a crime or anything. We’re not hurting anybody," Rosa protested, her heart falling; she had hoped her aunt would have taken the revelation a tad better than this.

"Rosa, dear, get your lovey-dovy head out of the clouds and think! It’s a doomed relationship, and you know it!" Aelia returned, her jaw jutting out pugnaciously.

"Why? I thought you liked Cecil," Rosa demanded heatedly; she wasn’t the only one losing her cool. No-one likes to hear a prophet of doom, especially when that prophet is your own aunt.

"Did I say I didn’t? I do like Cecil. He’s a polite, kind-hearted boy and I think the world of him. But, Rosa, think about it! You are a White Wizard. He’s a Black Knight."

"So?!"

" ‘So?!’ Ye gods, girl, do I have to write it down for you? It’s obvious! Do I have to remind you what Dark Knights are?! Listen, Rosa, and listen very carefully. Cecil may be gentle and kind now, but, I assure you, that won’t last long. He’s eighteen. He’s a Captain. And pretty soon you’re not going to see nearly as much of him. You think you’re not seeing enough of him now? Ha! Just you wait! Because he’s now come of age. And when Dark Knights come of age, they begin to change. I know what I’m talking about, Rosa, don’t give me that look! Black Knights are the heavy artillery of the Baronian Army, and they are trained differently than the other two groups...

"What do you mean?" Rosa interrupted, still not quite grasping her aunt’s long-winded explanation.

"What I mean is this: Black Knights are trained to be cold-blooded killers. They have to be, to do what they do. Even I don’t know all the secrets, but what I have heard will make your hair turn white. Pretty soon, Cecil will be considerably less gentle and kind, I warrant! He’ll be changed! You’ll be in different worlds, Rosa. He’ll break your heart because he won’t have one!"

Rosa had run out of the room then, slamming the door behind her. She knew that her aunt was telling the truth but, as is common to human nature, she didn’t want to believe it. So she pretended that nothing had ever happened. They never brought up the subject again.

Nevertheless, Rosa found, quite to her dismay, that her aunt’s warning was coming true; Cecil was changing right before her very eyes, and she didn’t know what to do to help him.

She began to see him less often, just as Aunt Aelia had prognosticated, and she noticed that he was more stern, more terse in his speech. Occasionally, Rosa caught a cold glint spark from his eyes if the lighting was right. These were only small changes, but they made Rosa sick with worry. Sometimes she felt like screaming at him, felt like tearing off the black horned mask from his head--he always wore that mask now! Why did he never take it off? But Rosa never spoke out; she was afraid of what would happen if she did.

**********

"Oh, I don’t know what to do! I want him like the way he was, but...but I don’t want to be a shrew about it! Men don’t like to be changed..." Rosa moaned pathetically to herself one evening, when she was nineteen. She was sitting on her bed, her slender shoulders hunched and tense, her arms crossed and gripping her elbows tightly. She had to vent her frustration and sorrow or scream, so she beat at her pillow savagely. Rosa knew that it wouldn’t change anything, but it would at least make her feel a little better.

"Good God, Rosie! What’d that poor little pillow ever do ta deserve such a whalin’? What do ya do to people who really piss ya off? Shoot ‘em in the gullet?" Cid’s voice drawled from the door, his amusement evident. The Engineer had been walking down the hallway outside Rosa’s room and had heard her shouting, so he had decided to investigate.

Rosa whirled around to face the Engineer, her face tinted bright red. Cid’s smile faded when he saw her expression; she was crying silently now, her mouth working. All of her anger had dissipated into a single large tumor of sorrow in her chest.

"Oh, now, please...don’t cry, please..." Cid consoled, unthinkingly taking a horribly dirty handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbing at her face with it. When he saw the grease smudge on her cheek, he stopped and grinned sheepishly.

"Some help I am, eh? Sorry about that."

"Oh...it’s...all right..." Rosa breathed brokenly, smiling in spite of herself.

"Listen...hows abouts we go to the inn and get a bite to eat, eh? I’ve been workin’ all day, and I’m starvin’. A little food in the belly does a world of good," Cid proposed, placing a burly arm on her shoulders. He led her out of her room and shut the door behind them.

***********

As the pair made their way towards the cafe through the inky darkness of late evening, they passed by a small group of castle guards huddled around a small fire. One of the men looked up, saw Rosa with Cid, and cracked a leering smile.

"Hey! Sweetheart! Going for the exotic, are you?" he called out; raucous laughter applauded what they thought was a witty statement. Rosa froze in her tracks; she recognized that voice anywhere. Baigan.

"What the--?! Baigan, ya bastard, how dare ya? I’M GONNA WHOOP YER AAAASSS!" Cid roared, the faint glow of the fire glazing his goggles with a wicked red. He always was over-protective of Rosa when she was around men other than Cecil or Kain, and he allowed no insult aimed at her to pass with impunity. His eyes and red bushy beard blazing, the Engineer immediately whipped out the biggest wrench he had dangling from his tool belt and charged the group of guards, a small but deadly harbinger of doom.

Yelps and curses erupted as Cid tore into the group like a rhino, scattering them in his furious wake as he jumped on Baigan, flailing wildly at him with the wrench.

On any other occasion, Rosa would have laughed until she nearly passed out; her distaste for Baigan had not lessened any, and the sight of the small Cid whacking the tall Baigan was classic comedy. It was like watching a Chihuahua attacking a hippo.

However, something made Rosa deathly afraid; she couldn’t put her finger on it, but she sensed something was not quite right. She had never seen those guards before, and she hadn’t heard of any new recruits joining the Castle Guard ranks. And, by the light of the fire, Baigan and the strange guards had looked sinister and devilish. Rosa shook her head. It was probably just an illusion of the firelight. Still, she was suddenly frightened. Following her gut instinct, she began to run, not even thinking about where she was going, leaving Cid to run amuck the guards like a very small rogue elephant. She had to get away from there. Evil was here, waiting to spring on the quiet castle of Baron.

*************

For some odd reason, Rosa’s legs guided her to the lavish apartments located just off the throne room; all of the King’s favorites resided here. And Aelia Farrell was one of them.

"Aunt Aelia..." Rosa whispered imploringly, trembling slightly, knocking softly on the wood of the wooden door, "Aunt Aelia...please...it’s me, Rosa. Let me in..."

The door swung open with a slight creak as her aunt answered her entreaties; the older woman leaned heavily against the frame of the door as she regarded Rosa with slightly blood-shot eyes.

"Aunt Ae--" Rosa began, but her aunt quickly silenced her with a look.

"Not out in the hall. People will hear us," Aelia whispered, eyes darting around the darkened hallway as she silently pulled Rosa into the apartment.

"Now," Aelia breathed, sinking into a chair after she had closed the door and locked it firmly behind her, "What brings you, Rosie?"

Rosa didn’t answer; she no longer wanted to talk now, but to cry. For over the past month, Aunt Aelia had been changing as well. The usually irrepressible, sprightly woman had become rather surly and moody; she had even snapped at Rosa on one or two occasions--witness the conversation about Cecil. She no longer smiled nearly as often, nor as brightly. But the worst thing was...she had started taking to the bottle more than was healthy for her, and that drove Rosa sick with worry.

In fact, as she let her eyes drift around the room, the girl noticed several empty wine glasses shimmering on Aelia’s desk.

"Aunt Aelia, what’s wrong with you?!" Rosa burst out, tears stinging at her eyes.

"What do you mean?" Aelia drawled slightly, her eyes and voice apathetic and slow.

"You know damn well what I mean! You never smile! You hardly ever talk to me! You drink too much! What’s happening? Why won’t you tell me? The two most important people in my life are changing right in front of my eyes! First Cecil, now you! Tell me, please!" Rosa moaned in a sobbing voice, crashing her fist down on the armrest of her chair; a jolt of pain seared her hand, but she took no heed.

Aelia looked at her niece very coolly, her face twitching slightly.

"You are very unhappy," the older woman stated, her weary eyes resting on Rosa, who nodded dumbly in response.

"I’m not the happiest person in the world right now, either..."

"Why?! Stop beating around the bush and tell me why!" Rosa nearly shrieked, tears pouring down her face.

"All things to those who wait, Rosie. You want me to tell you straight? Fine. The King is making my life a living Hell. That’s all there is to it."

Rosa’s anger melted away into utter stupefaction. She had noticed some slight changes in King Odin’s personality--ye gods, could somebody not change?--but they were hardly a reason to justify Aelia’s present condition.

"But why? I mean, he’s not quite as good-natured any more, and he sometimes acts sort of strange, but I don’t think--"

"It’s not that! It’s just...it’s just...he’s making me do things! I’ve never bowed to the man ever since he ascended the throne, and now he forces me to kneel before him...in private! ‘Yes, Your Majesty...’ ‘No, Your Excellency...’ He makes me grovel before him! It’s utterly humiliating!"

"Oh...Aunt Aelia..." Rosa gasped, her own sorrows forgotten when she saw the broken, haggard look on her aunt’s face as she spoke these words.

"But that’s not the worst of it! I’m not on his good side any more. His orders have become more and more erratic, more forceful...and when I show reluctance in carrying them out, he gives me this look. There’s this glint in his eye that scares me, it’s so angry and hate-filled. Rosa, my head isn’t resting safely on my shoulders nowadays."

"What?! Aunt Aelia, he’s your friend! He would never...!" Rosa hissed as she sucked in her breath rapidly, her insides suddenly growing very cold.

"Oh, if you only saw that look...then you’d know. He hates me! I don’t even know what I’ve done wrong! My position is not secure... that idiot Baigan has become his newest darling," Aelia moaned, turning around and looking at her reflection in a mirror that hung across the wall.

Over the past five years, Aelia had not shown any sign of aging, even though she was now fifty-four years old...until recently. Her rich, dark black hair had gone gray in a month, totally gray. In a rare display of vanity, Aelia dyed her hair black, but now, as she stared at it, Rosa thought that it was nowhere near as shiny and luxuriant as it originally had been. It was rather astounding; Rosa had never thought of her aunt as anything but young. She wasn’t old, but she wasn’t nearly as youthful as she once was, in a happier, more noble time.

"I shall soon be going away, Rosa," Aelia spoke up again after a silence, "The King is sending me to Eblan."

"Perhaps it will do you good," Rosa offered, wishing desperately to console her aunt yet not knowing exactly how to deal with such depression.

"Yes.." a small smile formed on Aelia’s face, "Yes...perhaps. I’ve always liked Eblan...it’s my favorite country to visit. And the crown prince there is absolutely charming! I love him to death. Now, if I were only a little bit younger...Nah. And they at least don’t make me grovel to them; they’ve always received me kindly. The bastard..." the smile disappeared; Aelia’s face reverted to its original state.

A small silence followed, but it was quickly broken by Aelia blurting out suddenly,

"But when I return, Rosa, do you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to retire."

"Retire?!" Rosa squeaked out; when Aunt Aelia retired from her diplomatic duties, then she knew that the end of the world was nigh.

"Yes. I’m tired, and I don’t want to kowtow to that bastard any more. God, Rosa, you serve a man faithfully for over thirty years, you help him find security when he first ascends the throne...and look what happens. I can’t stay in this country any more. Monarchies are fine, I guess, if the ruler is wise and good...like Odin used to be. A little naive at times, but he was a good King...until recently. Now, Mysidia...there’s a good government if I ever saw one. The Elder is elected by the people there...and he can be removed peacefully if he gets corrupt or shiftless. If a King becomes corrupt--which they often do--then they’re there for life, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it except kill the bastard," Aelia’s face became hard and steely; her mouth worked suddenly. Rosa had never seen her aunt cry or denounce the King so vehemently before, and such things were great shocks to her.

Then again, Aunt Aelia had a notion of government that Rosa didn’t quite agree with. Aelia always prattled on and on about a government ruled by the people, such as the one in Mysidia; Rosa believed in the monarchy, that being the only government she had ever known. Still, some of Aunt Aelia’s ideas did have some truth...and Rosa never flatly contradicted her aunt when it came to these matters; Aelia was more experienced in government than she.

"Aunt Aelia...please. This could be considered treason," Rosa admonished gently, her voice a whisper; wine was making her usually circumspect aunt reckless.

"Can’t I say what I think in private?! What are they going to do? Chop off my head?" Aelia snapped, her former depression replaced by anger. ‘Oh, by the Blue Planet. The wine’s making her moody...’ Rosa thought in despair, looking sadly at her aunt. Aelia had been the victim of rather unexpected mood swings as of late, often contradicting herself...

Suddenly, a sharp bang sounded at the door, making both women jump.

"Aelia Farrell!" a rough voice--Baigan’s voice--shouted through the wood of the door, "Aelia Farrell! Open up, you mangy traitor!"

‘Traitor?’ Rosa thought, her head spinning, as she shot her aunt a confused glance. Aelia’s face had grown deathly pale, her eyes suddenly afraid.

Without a word, Aelia gave Rosa a rough shove and pushed her into a closet.

"Stay here!" Aelia hissed at her confused and frightened niece as she shut the door of the closet.

Aelia had gotten Rosa out of the way just in the nick of time, too. A horrible crashing sound reached the young White Wizard’s ears; she cracked the closet door open ever so slightly and peered out tentatively. The sight made her want to faint, but somehow she could not tear her eyes away.

Baigan was there, a small troop of guards behind him; they had simply bashed the door open. All of their swords were drawn; Baigan, the mark of Cid’s wrench still on his face, smiled horribly.

"Aelia Farrell!" he boomed again, seeming to loom over the tall woman as if she were only knee-high, "You are charged with High Treason against his Majesty!"

"And what proof do you have?" Aelia answered weakly, no bravado at all in her voice.

"Do you recognize this?" Rosa saw Baigan produce a scroll, its wax seal--Aelia’s seal--neatly broken.

Aelia did not answer.

"Now, why did you do that, Farrell? Huh? Why would you want to help those wretched Mysidians?"

"Because they’ve done nothing wrong! All the King wants to do is pillage the Crystal of Water from them, for his own gain! And, by God, I wouldn’t allow such a monstrous crime to happen! This is petty stealing by a weak, cowardly..." Aelia spoke up, her voice rising and growing stronger.

"Oh, such vile words! Shut up, Aelia Farrell. Your tongue will do you no good now, you wretched traitor, you. I have orders here from His Majesty King Odin himself: you’re to be executed, and your head brought to him. His very words, traitor! ‘Cut off her pretty little head and bring it to me; throw her body in the moat.’ His exact words. May you roast in Hell." Baigan announced, producing another scroll--the one with the execution warrant written on it--and then he charged.

As in such horrible crises, the horrible scene played out before Rosa’s eyes in slow motion; she saw everything that happened clearly. She saw the dully glittering blade descend on Aelia’s head; she saw the wicked grin on Baigan’s face, and for one moment she thought that he was not human. He was a monster.

But the most horrible thing of all was the look on Aelia’s face.

It was a look of such extreme terror, such panic, that it was almost comic; her face was that of someone who has just realized he has been the butt of a horrible, monstrous joke. As the blade came down on her, the woman raised her hands feebly up and screamed. Rosa had never heard her aunt scream before; she had never even seen her aunt afraid before.

She screamed like a stuck pig. Rosa felt her own soul screaming as well.

The blade drove home, slashing in an arc across Aelia’s neck; a torrent of blood gushed out of the jugular vein as she fell to the floor, her blood pooling around her.

"Odin...bastard... I was your friend...served during your father’s day...saved you...so many times...why...?" Aelia’s voice gurgled through blood-painted teeth, trailing off into a silence as she convulsed horribly on the bloody floor. Her eyes glazed over second by second, her twitching slowed and then ceased; she lay perfectly still, the terror frozen in her eyes, her bloody mouth gaping.

Rosa, in the course of events, would be the witness to many horrible things: the defeat of Cecil by Kain’s own hands, her abduction by Golbez, the mutated, hideous forms of Edge, the Prince of Eblan’s parents, to name only a few. But nothing could ever compare to that horrible sight of Aelia twitching on the crimson floor, that terrifyingly comic expression plastered on her face in a death mask, blood everywhere...

Rosa desperately fought with the urge to shriek aloud; there was a searing, hot sensation in her chest as she clamped her jaw shut, squeezing her eyes tightly. The horrible image was plastered in front of her face, even when she had her eyes shut.

"Well! That takes care of that! I thought she’d put up more of a fight. Oh, well. Can’t have ‘em all feisty!" Baigan chirped cheerfully, leaning on his sword as he regarded his handiwork. He had just killed an unarmed woman, and he spoke of it as if it were simply an amusement.

In the depths of her pain and sorrowful anguish, Rosa felt a violent surge of hatred make its way upward; she wanted to kill that man--no, that monster--she wanted to slash his throat exactly the way he had cut through Aunt Aelia’s.

"All right, men, listen up. You--stay here and clean up the blood. The rest of you will take the body and weigh it down with stones. Into the moat with her! And as for me, I’ll just take this baggage here to His Majesty and announce the death of our little traitor." Baigan prodded Aelia’s still body with his foot absently. Suddenly, the bloody blade flashed again. Rosa couldn’t bear to watch this; she shut her eyes closed and brought her knuckles up to her mouth, gnawing them bloody.

The soft crunch of steel slicing through sinew and bone sounded out. Then the soft marching of boots on the floor and the clanking of armor. Then silence.

Rosa let out a shuddering breath that wracked her body with trembles. She peered out the crack and saw that Baigan and his soldiers had left the room. Her mind was in a feverish, dizzy whirl; she could not think. She knew that some of the soldiers would be coming back to clean up the blood, that she should get out immediately, but these thoughts never sank in. She probably would have sat there forever if some wild compulsion to flee had not entered her brain.

She did not know how she did it, everything was a blur, but she somehow got to her feet and staggered out of the closet, past the bloody room, and into the hall. Her feet took her around the bend without her willing them to, wandering aimlessly down the halls.

********

When she was in a hallway fairly close to the throne room, she heard voices talking around a corner. Her feet ceased to move as a thread of alarm cut through her muddled thoughts.

"So, it is done?" a voice--the King’s, yet somehow not the King’s--asked.

"Yes, My Liege. Here," Baigan’s rough, hateful voice purred. Rosa had a faint idea of what he was giving to King Odin, but it was too horrible to think about.

"Yes, that’s Aelia, all right! Yes--" here Rosa heard the sound of fingers rubbing against hair "it’s her. She always was a vain one...dying her hair black! Just like a woman. Filthy traitor. She nearly gave us away to the Mysidians, too. Thank the Darkness she wasn’t clever this time. Perhaps the weeks of wine had addled her sense of caution, eh? Totally surprised. I mean, just look at that expression!" A small chuckle accented this last remark.

"I guess," Baigan grunted noncommittally, "My Liege, what shall we do with the ex-advisor’s little niece? Should I put her away as well?"

Rosa’s breath caught in her throat. ‘They want to kill me,’ she thought feverishly; and she wished they would.

"Rosa?! What harm can she do? She’s just a White Wizard apprentice. No harm from her."

"Well, I don’t know, My Liege. If she finds out...then who knows what she can do? I’ve seen her with a bow and arrow, and she’s a dead shot. She might try to kill you. Or she might try to convince her boyfriend, Captain Cecil, to..."

"That’s enough! I will have Cecil out of the way soon, so what does it matter? And she’s a silly, harmless girl! However, if she does get out of line, then we’ll have to do something. But as long as she behaves, we’ll let her live. Dismissed, Baigan. I’ll summon all the people of the castle and announce the news. I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces. And dispose of the head while you’re at it," the King drawled, his voice growing fainter as he moved away.

Rosa wheeled around and doubled back, her mind racing, slowly piecing the facts together. Recently, the Red Wings, with Cecil as their newest Captain, had been used for offensive purposes. But originally they had been used only as defense and transport--like Cid had intended them. Was King Odin the Monster going to attack soon? Aunt Aelia had said something about an attack on Mysidia to steal the Crystal...

It was too much for her over-wrought brain to take in; Rosa, now wandering aimlessly through a small lounge, sank into a chair. Everything, once so clear, was now so confusing...her head split with the effort of trying to think, so she simply gave up, waiting dumbly for what horrible trick Fate would pull on her next.

Rosa did not know how long she sat there, but it must not have been very long before a maid, one of Rosa’s co-workers, entered the lounge.

"Ah, here you are! Rosa, there’s a meeting in the throne room. Everyone in the castle has to come. So up with you, ya blonde ninny, and scoot!" the maid announced in a cheery voice; yet her face was a bit apprehensive and confused. She obviously didn’t know what was going on.

Rosa, who knew all too well what was going to be announced, looked up and nodded mutely, rising from her seat and following the maid towards the throne room.

**********

The large throne room was jammed with people; Rosa and the maid could barely squeeze in. The young woman’s hazy eyes swept over the congregation: there was Cid, there was Kain...and there was Cecil, standing silently in his brooding Dark Armor. Rosa’s mouth formed a silent groan; why was Fate torturing her further with his presence? She still loved him, but he had changed, and she had lost him forever. But that fact hadn’t stopped her from loving him still; she could still feel the warm, loving gentleness, that unseen Light inside all beings, underneath the cold, unfeeling armor. And that made the torture even worse.

"My people!" the King boomed from his throne, slicing through Rosa’s mental anguish, "I have summoned you so suddenly because there has been a great crime committed in this castle. And do you know what’s happened? I’ll tell you what’s happened! Our own Aelia Farrell--my own trusted advisor and friend--has committed TREASON!!"

The crowd, which had been silent since the moment the King began to speak, suddenly burst out in a clamor of shouts and exclamations. King Odin lifted his hand for silence, and he continued.

"Yes! When this was first reported to me by my devoted guard, Baigan, I was just as you are. I couldn’t believe it. Yet the evidence is overwhelming. First of all, let me show you these letters confiscated from her desk. Read them, and you’ll find the most vile slanders against me and the State. But worst of all! She has conspired with the Mysidian Elder to overthrow me from this throne and put him in my place. And here’s the letter! Thank God it was intercepted! If you doubt me, look at them! They speak for themselves!" Odin bellowed, producing several scrolls from his robes and slamming them onto a small table near his throne.

Rosa looked up into the King’s face, and she immediately knew he was lying. She had heard the conversation between Baigan and Aunt Aelia before she had been butchered. Aelia had only written to warn the Mysidians, not tempt them to depose the King. She knew Aunt Aelia, and Aelia was no traitor. She never betrayed her friends, even if she did have a falling out with them. The King was a monster of lies and deceit, a pure monster.

"But what has happened to Mistress Farrell?" a voice, Cid’s voice, spoke up, pain apparent in his words; Rosa could tell he did not quite believe the King either.

"And what was that scream coming from Aelia’s apartments? I tried to look, but the Guards wouldn’t let me go through," another voice ventured timidly.

"The Mistress Aelia has been dispatched as a traitor! Treason calls for immediate action. She has been executed, as befits her crime," the King announced. Rosa felt sick. Tears began to trickle anew from underneath her eyelids. The people closest to her looked at her and pitied her. She felt the touch of consoling hands on her shoulders and arms as people tried to express their sympathy. A few people cried out.

The King’s jaundiced eyes roamed slowly over the crowd, silencing the fresh burst of cries and murmurs.

"Let her be an example!" King Odin bellowed, his voice resonating off the walls, "I will not tolerate treason! Do you hear me!? I WILL NOT TOLERATE TREASON!! Anyone else who dares compromise the State, look to your life! You’ll be joining Mistress Farrell in the moat!"

An awful silence ensued; no-one dared even to breathe. Suddenly, Cid stumbled forth, his eyes wet and red, and bowed before the monster that was his King, a look of utter surprise on his face.

"Yer Majesty," he said in a small, subdued voice, "ya know that none o’ us here wish you any harm, and it’s a cryin’ shame about Mistress Aelia...but don’t yer think ya went a little overboard? I mean..." the Engineer trailed off under the King’s withering glance.

"Since I know of your loyalty, Master Engineer, I will forget the things you just said. I did what was best for the State, and I have no regrets. Do not forget yourself next time. Still, concerning the traitor’s family..." the King fixed his eyes on Rosa, boring into them with a yellow stare.

Rosa stiffened as her heart began to pound a mile a minute, her limbs freezing. All the people turned to stare at her, but for once she did not feel their looks. Everyone knew well that the King could easily fire Rosa, confiscate her and her mother’s property, even have them thrown in jail if he so wished, simply because they were the family members of a traitor.

"I will not take any action against them. They had no knowledge of Mistress Farrell’s actions; I’ll not punish the innocent. Let all the Guards know that no theft or harm will be tolerated against either Delia or Rosa Farrell. They shall be left alone."

A bitterness rose up in Rosa’s mouth as another flash of anger cut through her gut; she knew very well that he was only being this kind to find favor, to ingratiate himself with the public. The people would see the King, that murderer, as a venerable and clement ruler while Aunt Aelia’s name would be ground into the dust and spat on. The slightly more relaxed, less frightened faces of the people around her told Rosa that this action had worked perfectly. The fools had taken the bait, hook, line, and sinker. She wanted to scream at them, but she didn’t. What good would screaming do? Only get her killed.

So, instead, Rosa bowed to the King and mumbled her thanks; she didn’t mean a word that passed her lips. But the sight of the pale, slightly trembling, delicate child being protected by the King only served to make the observers more tightly hooked. Their wills were no longer their own, the poor fools.

"This is a great shock to us all," the King concluded, "but remember, my people, that only through loyalty and trust will this nation stand. Let us all work together for a more glorious, prosperous Baron! You are all dismissed. Go, work hard, and make Baron even mightier!"

The people murmured their good-byes to the King, their voices all buzzing and humming in Rosa’s ears like a swarm of hornets; she heard the sound, but could make out no words. Her breath came in short, frequent bursts as she stood, rooted to the place.

Cid made his way to her through the swirling crowd; Rosa held out her arms to him. The stocky Engineer rushed forward and crashed into her embrace so hard that she nearly toppled over; his arms clung around her tightly.

"Oh, Rosie...I’m so sorry," Cid sobbed, fresh tears streaming down his grimy cheeks. The young woman felt her heart break for the little Engineer as she hugged him back, but she was consoled by the fact that he, at least, knew a little about what she was going through. Cid had been friends with Aelia ever since they were ten and the young Engineer had been sent to the Academy at Agart to get a higher education. It was at the Academy that Cid had learned the lost art of making Airships (the reason he had never been able to build an Airship earlier was lack of funding and proper parts). At the Academy he had also met Aelia, who appreciated his love of tinkering and boisterous humor.

And the Engineer felt his good friend’s death keenly. Aelia was gone, and his worst nightmare--Airships being used to inflict harm--was coming true. Rosa felt sorry for him.

Soon Cid disengaged himself from Rosa’s embrace and staggered off to his house, probably to have a good cry with his daughter. Then Kain came up to her slowly, his face sad.

"Aw, Rosa..." he muttered awkwardly, staring down at his shifting feet. Suddenly, finding no words to convey his emotions, he swept the girl up against his plated chest, squeezing her so tightly that the breath was knocked out of her.

Still, Rosa managed to crack the smallest, flimsiest of smiles; Kain was such a good friend, even if he wasn’t much for emotional moments. His sympathy hardly mitigated her pain or sorrow, but at least it was an effort, and Rosa was not ungrateful. She squeezed him back and gave him a small peck on the cheek in thanks for his caring.

Kain blushed bright red to the roots of his long blonde hair, a smile spreading over his face; Rosa was confused by the fact that she had made him so happy just by giving him a small kiss, but she decided not to dwell on it.

"You okay? Do you want me to see you back to your room? You don’t look so good," Kain offered, his smile fading as he looked at her thin, pale form.

"It’s all right, Kain. I’ll be fine, I really will. I just need some time to myself, that’s all. And I think I can make it back to my room okay," Rosa reassured, not very convincingly, as she moved out the door with mechanical footsteps. Kain frowned slightly, but he obeyed and did not follow, watching Rosa with eyes that never left her for a second. What thoughts were passing through the young man’s head, nobody knew, save one...and that one looked over those thoughts and then set to work...

************

Rosa lurched down the hallway leading to the maid’s quarters, her mind now sick and spinning with fear, dread, and sorrow.

She was deathly afraid, now that she was all alone. Sure, the King had said, on more than one occasion, that she would be spared her aunt’s fate, and yet she was scared to death. Fear made her irrational; she knew no harm would come to her if she acted carefully, but she could not bring herself to go into her room. Images of guards breaking through the door, their swords unsheathed and ready to impale, flashed through her mind.

She wanted to run away from this corrupt place, but there she was in a quandary. Where could she run? Her old house in Baron? That was no protection. And the other countries...she had very little money, no way to get there, and no way of making a living even if she did manage to leave. Rosa was trapped here.

This realization made her despair even more acute. Rosa crumpled to her knees and began to sob quietly, tears once again streaming down her cheeks in torrents as her body was wracked with pain. Aelia, dear Aunt Aelia, who had been more loving and kind than her true mother, was dead, butchered and her name slandered; Cecil, the only other true love in her life, was lost to her forever, and she had no way out of this Hell. She wanted to die; her desire for living was gone.

Suddenly, she felt the cold touch of steel on her shoulders; Rosa didn’t look up. ‘It’s a guard,’ she thought to herself, ‘he’s come to kill me. Well, I only hope he does it quickly...’

But nothing happened. No jolt of steel, no pain, no nothing. Confused, Rosa finally looked up.

Cecil was kneeling beside her, the sputtering torches gleaming off the polished surface of his ebony armor. Although her skin flinched at the touch of that monstrous dark metal, Rosa’s heart, for one second, soared with joy; then she remembered what he had become, and the world became even darker. Rosa knew that she had not yet hit rock-bottom, and that knowledge made her sick. What else would happen?

"Ce--Cecil," Rosa moaned in a hoarse whisper, not looking up at him despite an fierce desire to do otherwise.

"Shhh...don’t speak," Cecil shushed, the gentle, sad voice sounding hollow in that dark helmet, placing a gauntlet-clad finger so cold that it burned on her trembling lips. Rosa felt an overwhelming urge to draw away from him, but she was so weak and wracked with grief that she couldn’t move a muscle. She felt made of stone. He could have taken an axe to her head, and she wouldn’t have felt a thing.

"Come on," that hollow voice urged in its incongruously gentle tone, "Rosa, you need rest. You need to go to your room, get into bed. You’ll hurt yourself."

Rosa did not budge an inch. Without a sound, Cecil gently scooped her up like a doll and began carrying her towards her room, grasping her tightly against the cold plate of his chest. The young White Wizard in training wanted to escape from the darkness of the armor, but she could not get away.

She felt so weak and so helpless that her mind screamed rebuke after. ‘Stupid, simpering, idiot! Weakling! The King and Baigan are right: you’re a scrawny, spineless nothing, a weak little girl. You are what you seem.’ her thoughts raged at her. Rosa bowed her head and took the self-inflicted blows gamely. Just as she always had.

**************

Cecil entered Rosa’s room, one room in a small suite that she shared with two other maids; this was the only place in the small complex of rooms that she could truly call her own. He gently placed Rosa on her bed; she immediately curled up into a fetal ball, clutching at the blankets as if her life depended on it.

Before Cecil could do or say anything else, a knock sounded at the door. Lifting her head a little off the mattress, Rosa observed Cecil as he walked over to the door and answered it, disclosing a whole gaggle of maids standing out in the hall.

"Good evening, Sir Cecil. Is Rosa in here?" asked one of the maids, who was on more intimate terms of friendship with Rosa than most of the others. As she said these words, the young woman poked her head into the room, saw Rosa, and gave a little start. Rosa sighed inwardly; she must have been quite a sight.

"As you can see, she is, but...I don’t think she should have this much company at once," Cecil suggested, his voice gentle but curt.

The maid nodded, saying, "Well, we won’t bother her. She looks like a wreck. But, we just want to say that we’re sorry and that we’ll stand behind her all the way. And," here the maid thrust out a large wicker basket, "could you give her this? It’s from all of us."

"Certainly," Cecil agreed as the basket exchanged hands.

"Girls, thank you," Rosa called out weakly, her voice faint and scratchy. All of the small group shuffled their feet diffidently and chorused: "Don’t mention it," before moving away.

When they had gone, Cecil placed the basket upon a chair and, taking a cue from Rosa’s slight nod, opened it.

"Well," his hollow voice remarked almost cheerily, "it’s food and clothes and books, mostly."

"How nice," Rosa murmured without a smile; she was indeed grateful for the maids’ kindness, but even this charity could not make her feel any better.

"I guess...I should go..." Cecil muttered noncommittally, edging towards the door with slow steps, the dark helmet’s gaze riveted on her. Rosa knew he did not want to leave; and to tell the truth, she didn’t want him to leave, either. She was frightened enough as it was, and the prospect of spending this horrible night all alone was terrifying. But that armor frightened her almost as much as being alone.

"No, Cecil...you can stay if you want. But...please, take it off," Rosa detained him, gesturing to her face. Would he do it?

Slowly, deliberately, Cecil reached up and removed his helmet, revealing his face and a tousled mass of beautiful white hair, and Rosa couldn’t help but smile. It was almost unbelievable that he would do it at all, but he seemed to do it with an enthusiasm, a willingness. He wanted to please her, but by the vigor of his actions, Rosa realized that he hated the armor as much as she did, if not more.

But, now that he was free of the helmet, a desire to be free of every article of the damned armor seemed to seize Cecil; Rosa saw the look on his face as he glared down at the metal shell around him. He glanced at her, and she nodded slightly; she knew that all soldiers wore a set of clothes under their armor. There was no disgrace or shame or awkwardness about the matter at all.

When Rosa gave her assent, Cecil immediately began to unbuckle his breastplate, almost pawing at it in his zealousness; the remainder of the armor soon followed, all being chunked unceremoniously in a corner. There he stood in simple, almost plain clothes; he had never looked so handsome.

"Are you hungry? Have something to eat. It’ll make you feel better." Cecil offered, his voice no longer horrible but beautiful, gesturing to the basket. Rosa nodded. She wasn’t hungry, but she did feel weak, and food might give her enough strength to think clearly for once.

Cecil selected some food from the basket and found a plate to put it on. When he served it to her, he got on his knees and presented it as if he were waiting on a Queen. Rosa smiled and would have giggled if she had had the heart to; he was so endearing when he did things like that, things that weren’t totally serious but were still sincere all the way through.

After she had eaten--not much, but she managed to get a few things down--Rosa felt extreme fatigue settling in her bones. It was getting very late, she had gotten up early this morning, and, from what she had gone through tonight, who wouldn’t be exhausted?

Cecil noticed the strained, weary lines around her eyes and quietly went over to Rosa’s clothes chest. After rummaging around in it for a few minutes, he produced a small stuffed chocobo doll. Aunt Aelia had made it for her when she had been a baby. He also selected a book from one of the shelves upon the wall as he passed by them. All of this was done in absolute silence.

Cecil went over to her and pulled the covers over her slightly trembling form, tucking her in quite snugly; he transferred the stuffed chocobo into Rosa’s palm, giving her hand a gentle squeeze as he did so. Rosa intuitively brought the little doll up to her chest, squeezing it tightly.

"You must rest," Cecil urged gently but firmly, flopping down on top of the covers beside her, flipping the book open with one hand while he encircled Rosa’s shoulders with the other and pulled her close against him.

Rosa heaved a haggard sigh as she snuggled up even closer to him, resting her head, now too cumbrous for her slender neck to support, on his broad shoulder; she placed the arm not holding the chocobo around his waist.

It was a book of poetry that Cecil held in his hand, an assorted collection of all of Rosa’s favorite authors. It was her favorite book, and she knew it all by heart. Cecil began to read her favorite poems to her--each one knew the favorite things of the other.

Cecil was by no means a dullard; he was actually of good intelligence, especially with mechanical things--one couldn’t be an Airship Captain without a rather large measure of knowledge. But he was no poet. He had no ear for meter, rhythm, or any of the subtleties of poetry that Rosa perceived. And thus, as he read, he often stumbled over the meter, or his tongue would twist over a word, and he put no emotion whatsoever into the verse. As Cecil read, more than one venerable poet tossed and turned in the grave.

Still, Rosa smiled. Cecil’s face, nobly serious, was so inconsistent with his butchery of the verses that, in different circumstances, she would have giggled. Still, he was trying so hard. She had never heard words more beautiful; no professional reader could compare. Rosa closed her eyes and nuzzled her face against his neck, her forehead resting against his ear and her chin against his shoulder. The words became slurred, melding together as she drifted into slumber.

**********

Rosa slowly opened her eyes, adjusting them to the darkness of the room; the candle on the bedside table had been extinguished--probably by Cecil.

Cecil! Rosa felt cocooned in warmth and security; she then realized that she was still snuggled up against him. His shoulder under her chin was slowly rising and falling with his breathing.

Suddenly, through the warm, drowsy security, Rosa remembered her Aunt Aelia.

The horror and fright were no longer there; they had been dispelled by Cecil’s presence. But the sorrow was still throbbing and aching in her chest. Rosa closed her eyes, but tears managed to seep from underneath her lashes as she brought the chocobo doll, still grasped tightly in her hand, up to her cheek.

Memories of Aunt Aelia, happy memories, flashed through her head: Rosa heard her aunt’s boisterous laugh, that lovely rich voice telling wonderful lies and stories; she saw the flash of beautiful long black hair and eyes; the soft shuffling of a crimson cloak sounded in her ears; she saw the snappy spring in her aunt’s step and the endearing way she would crinkle up her eyes when she smiled.

And now it was all gone, that wonderful reality; only shadowy, insubstantial memories remained. A poor substitute.

Rosa felt the shoulder beneath her chin shift slightly; she lifted her teary eyes and encountered Cecil’s gentle and loving emerald gaze. She had not meant to wake him.

Looking into his eyes, she felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that she had not told him everything about Aunt Aelia; he still believed her to be a traitor. But one thing that Rosa knew about Cecil--and that nearly drove her crazy--was that he never questioned the King. So, although she loved Cecil with all her heart, and true love should keep no secrets, Rosa realized that this was not the time. Although he was free for the moment, Cecil was still bound in service to the King; he would not believe her. She would have to be patient. She would have to wait until a more opportune moment, and then she would disclose everything. She would leave out nothing, as painful as it would be for her, and then he would know the truth. Let the King damn himself, she wouldn’t have to do it for him.

She stared into his eyes without tearing away; he had never seemed more handsome, more pure. His Light, once so dim in that horrid armor, now dazzled her with its brilliance.

She was about to whisper an apology, but he reached up and placed his index finger on her lips, silencing her. He then caressed her cheeks with the back of his hand, wiping away her tears with its warmth. Rosa smiled, grateful , the gash in her heart becoming bearable, and kissed his ear as she reached up and began fingering his beautiful snowy hair. Cecil turned his head again and started kissing her back, reaching around her waist with both arms and pulling her even closer.

Rosa wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him one last, lingering kiss before letting her head sink onto his chest. He began to run a finger gently up and down the back of her neck as he kissed the top of her golden head, spreading a tingling sensation all up and down her spine. He knew how much she enjoyed it when he did that.

She freed one hand and reached down for another blanket that lay folded at the bed’s foot, pulling it over Cecil; he still had no covering except his clothes, and it was always chilly in her room.

Although Rosa could feel her heart beginning to spring to life again, although part of her wanted to remain forever in the comfort of Cecil’s arms, her mind was also awakening.

The King was incorrigibly corrupt; that much was obvious; the mere thought of that monster was enough to make her blood seethe with resentment and disgust. It was then she realized that the nation of Baron, no, the whole Blue Planet, was in grave danger. If Baron were to snatch the Crystal of Water from the peaceful Mysidians; a dreadful crisis, possibly war, would ensue, and...Cecil would be the one heading the attack.

Rosa set her chin resolutely. Never! She had seen Cecil’s Light; she knew it could never be extinguished, neither by the dark calling of his profession nor by the King. But he needed self-respect, a clear conscience, support to keep his Light from fading; Rosa resolved to fight with all of the might in her slender body to give what he needed. The Darkness would never claim him without going through her.

For Cecil, now that Aunt Aelia was gone, was her entire world; Kain, her mother, Cid...they were but dear, lovable satellites in comparison. As much as she loved them and enjoyed their company, Cecil pushed them all aside, his Light filling up her vision. And Rosa would not let her world be shattered again.

King Odin would not rule forever; such tyranny does not last long, and then the wickedness that had murdered Aunt Aelia would be abolished. A new society, one that did not kill people for merely thinking differently, one where people did not have to live in fear and horror, would rise from the ashes of the destroyed evil. Light, not Darkness, would reign again.

And she and Cecil would live in that new order, Rosa promised herself as she hugged him tighter; their happiness, only temporary in this cold room, would be permanent. She would fight with every asset of her body and spirit to bring it about. They would be happy.

She kept her promise.

END PART THREE

EPILOGUE

Eventually, it all came to pass as Rosa had seen it. Cecil became disillusioned by King Odin shortly after he had completed his belligerent mission at Mysidia; he then fought against the oppression and corruption of Baron. In the course of events, he was converted from a Dark Knight into a Paladin, a Holy Warrior; his Light, once concealed to all but Rosa, Kain, and Cid, was now resplendent, able to be seen by all. He had won against the Darkness brought on by his dark training.

As it turned out, the King Odin that had given the orders for Aelia’s execution and the King Odin who had once been Aelia’s friend were not the same. About two months before Aelia’s murder, the King himself had been put out of commission by Kainazzo, the Fiend of Water...the henchman, in the ultimate scheme of things, of the Dark Wizard Golbez, who in turn, was the pawn of one Zeromus, The Hatred of All That Is. Baigan had also been under Golbez’s control, turned into a monster and given horrible powers by the Wizard; Rosa was not grieved at all when she heard of his death at Cecil’s hands. When the matter of the King’s true identity was revealed to Rosa, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of sad triumph: the real King Odin had not killed his close friend and advisor after all! It was a tragedy to think that all of Kainazzo’s bloody deeds had been blamed on the good King, but at least this knowledge restored Odin’s image and reputation, the only worldly things about a monarch that are immortal.

After her rescue from the Tower of Zot, Rosa confessed to Cecil and told him every lurid detail of the murder, omitting nothing. Cecil had been horrified, and he had wept along with her. He had been fond of Aelia, but he had thought her a traitor up until this revelation. That he had ever doubted her loyalty and integrity was shameful to him.

After Zeromus was destroyed, the Blue Planet reverted to its former harmonious state; yet Baron needed a new ruler. And the man who was picked to be King was --surprise, surprise!--Cecil. And Cecil would not rule without Rosa at his side as Queen; they were married, and ascended the throne.

A new age of prosperity without having to use machines of war to obtain it, without having to exploit other nations, began. World peace was sovereign on the Blue Planet; Rosa and Cecil had met and made friends with all the rulers of every nation during their journeys--all of which are stories in themselves. Knowledge, wisdom, peace, and calm became the bywords of the new epoch.

Rosa and Cecil were wise and just rulers, but, of course, they needed some advisors to help them, especially at the first. These advisors were useful, assiduous, and loyal; the people of Baron commented that no country on the Blue Planet had such a brilliant cabinet for their rulers.

Whenever she heard this remark, Rosa would merely sigh and smile sadly; Cecil, usually sitting right next to her, would take her hand into his and squeeze.

**********

A rather extensive garden had been planted on the outskirts of the booming city of Baron, and in the middle of this lovely garden was a small reflecting pool, surrounded by carefully manicured rows of rose bushes with blooms of every color. Aelia Farrell (her reputation had been restored, of course. When Cecil and Rosa became rulers, they had blotted her name from the proscription list and posthumously exonerated her of her supposed crimes) had once spent many hours sitting on the edge of this lovely azure pool; it had been her wont to sit there on the corner and read either books or official correspondence. It had been her thinking spot.

And after Rosa and Cecil became regents, something else was added to the place.

There, sitting on the corner, was the marble statue of a tall, slender woman with long hair reaching to her waist; she was wearing loose, comfortable clothing and holding a small scroll in one hand. Her unseeing eyes were gazing intently at this scroll. A small, mischievous smile crinkled one side of her mouth. Her head was cocked to one side while a fist rested on her cheek, her elbow on her knee.

There was no plaque, no inscription, not a thing on it. So only a few of the townspeople knew that this simple statue of a woman was really a historical figure. Most, however, recognized Cid’s unmistakable handiwork. It was truly a work of art.

Sometimes, when she was alone and had a break from her governmental duties, Rosa would stroll to this place and sit before the statue, gazing at it for long durations of time. Her face became more childlike during these visits, and a smile that was sad yet joyful would spread over her face.

And when she heard someone call out her name, retrieving her back to reality, Rosa would sigh, smile gamely, and turn to the statue before leaving.

"Well, off I go! Some help you are! The time in my life I most need you, and you shirk the job! What’s the world coming to?"

Then, in a softer voice: "Wish me luck. I’m trying for you, you know. One thing I’ll say: being a ruler is much harder than it looks. Wish you had told me that."

As she turned to go, the soft lapping of the water in the pool would chuckle a merry laugh.

Then Rosa would smile and turn to face the world again, to set about an ideal that others had perished for.

It was a hard job, but someone had to do it.

FINIS

So, how’d you like that?! I couldn’t end this thing on a totally depressing note, could I? Mah Gawd, it ain’t proper! I hope you enjoyed it!

Themis56