(no subject)
Brigandier.
That word, that name just came into my head. You know this name.
Celes gazed at her communicator, enraptured, as the words took shape. It was as if someone else had said them. She had become a spectator of her own life.
And what if I do?
You will lead me to those who bear this name.
No. I'm not leading you anywhere.
Won't be long now, the rescue'll be done, and we won't have to deal with each other for a long time.
Then I will lead you there. Lead or be lead; that is your choice. The appointed time is near.
She felt the last vestiges of color fading from her eyes. At once scared and serene, Celes squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to see what was coming next.
"Oh gods," she murmured. "Deliver me from my father's hair... his eyes... the dreams... His dreams!"
I won't be lead by ANYONE.
Stop doing this NOW.
Three days ago... his eyes... they changed...
Celeste stands beside her father. His eyes look like bloodless glass beads. He looks wearily across the road at the cleric as he hangs garlands for the upcoming festival on the modest temple. "No one can win against fate. But I sure will try."
I... I know too...
Suddenly, the ladder collapses beneath the man gives. He plummets toward the ground, his robes billowing. Batholomew dashes toward him and skids across the gravely road, catching the man just in time. Shaken, he thanks the hunter before crumpling to the ground, lifeless, for no apparent reason.
There's nothing. Nothing... we can do.
Celeste looks up from a grave. Her mother looks like she's going to cry. Looking away from the formidable woman's moment of fragility, Clyde's eyes meet hers briefly. He smiles shyly at her. So sweet, that smile.
Sooner or later... our lives... a couple of lines...
You... you don't know... do you...
Clyde speaks. "I guess I just want what everyone wants, then. To be remembered..."
Remembered... as a decent enough person.
Clyde, you will...
Celeste looks up at Bartholomew, three days before he left her in front of the IMA, all alone. He affects a jovial air, but Celeste sees them...
Those eyes... My eyes... Three days...
Bright dreams...
Don't lie.
BRIGHT DREAMS DON'T LIE!
Celes fell to her knees, clutching the communicator with wild devotion.
"He... didn't... leave me! HE DIED, AND HE KNEW IT WAS COMING! THEY KILLED HIM! THEY FUCKING KILLED MY FATHER!" she screamed into the night air.
"Shadow please help me... my heart, it hurts so ba--"
Her communicator slipped out of her hand, hitting the soft ground, as she laid her head on the ground, choking on her sobs.
"--d! M-my h-ear-r-t HURTS!" She cried, covering her head with her hands. "MA-AKE IT STO-OP!"