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Crescent Stigma	By : Cynthermes Category: Final Fantasy Games > Crossovers Views: 833 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Dissidia, Final Fantasy IV, Final Fantasy I and its characters belong solely to Square Enix. They’re not mine. I can only lay claim to some OC’s and the plot. No profit has been made for the construction of this prose

Chapter List
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GENERAL A/N: This is a Dissidia-inspired Alternate Universe of FFIV. I would be using first person and third person views respectively depending on how I want the reader to perceive the events of the story. The timeline is not a consistent one-way train kind of thing. The Italics will be used as a marker for events that happened in the past and the normal font for the present. Lastly, one must have at least some knowledge of FFI, Dissidia, and FFIV to understand some of the technicalities and complications brought forth by the blending of all three Final Fantasy Worlds.
Rants: I should warn you though some of you might find Golbez OOC. He may have retained some of his cold aloofness in some moments but mostly you will find him altruistic (in some degree –One must think if he has switched heads with Cecil.) and feeling a variety of human emotions like the common person. He is after all human and not some rock like Zemus might have designed him to be. (Although he does throw rocks in Dissidia.) –And… enough with that.
For many this could not be your cup of tea so if you don’t appreciate the moral conflict themes present in this story please DON’T read.
-Some names have been changed for the plot
-Some characters have been omitted.
-Their world’s name is Cornelia the first kingdom in FFI instead of the Blue Planet.

PROLOGUS

Part One

New Moon: Phantoms of Yesteryears

Golden light seeps through the thin dividing line at the center of the world where it slowly bleeds out hurrying towards the bowy of an unseen end.

Day after day, this unholy hour of after dawn, this unfamiliar horizon greets me with its limitless sky tinged in strange aquamarine.

In a series of moods, clouds appear a capricious white to a brooding black in the spring storms. Rainfall is fairly common as of late. Thus the greenery is abundant and flourishing. What world survives in the absence of rain?

Lush thick forests and woodland cover half the entire continent. Vast deep seas cloak and hide unraveled realms, dungeons and sunken treasures waiting to be explored. Wide plains, tame lakes, and spidery rivers crisscross down the high snow-covered mountains isolating their own mysteries; it truly is an untouched earth.

An uncorrupted world to be tempered anew or is it ‘tampered’ by someone such as I?

A fellow warrior once told me that selfish desires drive a person to do the unthinkable… or better yet to break the divine laws made by a supreme being such as God. I can almost imagine him standing next to me with the same stern expression as if it were yesterday—or am I even allowed to understate our ‘past’ and brief meetings?

He was impressive in size; tall in frame, and heavy in build, comparable to mine. It makes one wonder if we are kin beneath our armors since the thick metal conceals too much of our natural appearance. But he had something in his arsenal that I’ll hesitate to wield or even consider arming myself with, provided that I’m a mage. (Yes, that’s what folk in this world would probably call my trade, and they would label me an unorthodox black mage to be exact.) He carries a colossal flail sword with a treacherous curved edge at the end. No doubt, he was not one to mess with and if I didn’t consider what he was truly offering me I would have fought him in battle than simply converse with him when he happened to offer me a convenient proposition.

XxX

The rustling of grass under my midnight greaves kept my wandering thoughts preoccupied as I took one uncertain step after another on this strange landscape.

A recent quake of massive force had raised a land bridge buried beneath the ocean floor for probably a thousand years or more. Having nothing better to do than to wallow in guilt and regret, I decided to explore the two long arms of steep trench southwest of Baron’s shores.

Maybe when I reach the end of the stretch I would probably jump down into the water and allow my heavy armor to sink myself to death, I laughed cynically at these suicidal thoughts. I was too cowardly to die by those means no matter how much I deserved it.

I fashioned a stop when I reached the clearing. The mangrove was getting a lot thicker in these areas but monster ambushes were not a problem. They were petty little weaklings that won’t dare to even cross my path considering the chaotic state of my mind. I would cast spell after spell to anyone or anything that would invade my privacy, friend of his or not.

Knowing them, they were probably wasted themselves to pose a threat to me even after the funeral… A funeral I wouldn’t dare to grace with my presence. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t underestimate a person’s rage or even their grief. It’s only a matter of time before they hunt me down to the bowels of this earth and become Baron’s—no, the Blue Planet’s most wanted man.

The sound of tranquil waves on the shore below somewhat calmed my tired and troubled mind. I sat at the edge of a small cliff sending loose rock to drop and took off my cumbersome golden-pronged helmet.

Make no mistake. I haven’t let my guard down by doing this. I just want to free my tangled white hair that had grown so long down my shoulders. It was bothersome… And I want to see my reflection in the water below… I want to see my hair, my nose, my eyes, my… I couldn’t see clearly. What on earth am I muttering about? Nonsense.

There was no rain. The clear sky was a bright cobalt blue, the wind crisp, the leaves murmur soothingly as the breeze touched and shook the boughs of trees, gulls flew overhead, the sea breathtaking with its crystalline sapphire waters, the sand a toasted nut brown, the two arms of trenches stretched out leading to an unknown end, the horizon… forever far from my grasp just like you are now.

Forever far from my grasp…

I shook my head. I ran a hand through the white mess that was my hair and gripped it in frustration. Salty water was dripping down my cheeks. A dry weak laugh escaped my lips. Since when did I become such a wretched old man?

Drowning in ones self-pity would get one nowhere and thus I shoved the steel confinement on top of my head, dusted my cape, summoned my life force to cast the spell, and shot up the cliff only to descend perilously in about the same rate as a cannon ball, leaving a spiral of dust trail behind.

I was scaling the land bridge with my arms crossed and as a rule I only floated above ground enough to dangle my booted feet a little without contact, of course. My cape fluttered madly behind me at the speed of my flight as I approached a piece of architecture that promptly stood out at the sunken point of the trenches. That mad physician, Lugae, might have done more than stop by in admiration, whereas I would’ve had more than just a broken neck by balking in aversion.

It appears a ravine was unearthed by the quake like a mighty hand of god just parted the sea in its wake. At the end of it, sitting on top of a small mound oddly vegetated by green grass and partially drenched in water was white-stone remains of a shrine.

It was a horror to behold ones dreams in your waking hours. It makes one think if one is in his/her rational state of mind.

I was having nightmares these past few weeks. And none of them contained the person I untimely lost.

This skeleton of a sacred place was all there is to it in my dreams. I always wake up in cold sweat and screaming one thing I couldn’t remember when I’m awake.

And now that the real thing is staring me in the eye… I loathe call myself a coward if I turn around and drop myself six feet under the seabed.

With the confidence of a child learning his first steps I put my left foot forward and felt the blades of grass crunch under the weight of my heel. That was when I realized I was walking my way up the grassy mound.

It only took a few steps more, I barely began ascent when I quickly discovered I wasn’t alone.

I turned around (I’ll do this once) to find a strange sight of shining metal behind me.

“Greetings, fellow harbinger of death. I am an emissary sent to gather a select few; consider yourself honored for you are chosen as one of God’s champions. You are to fight a divine battle in His name and leave everything from this world behind.”

I was barely recovering from my suppressed grief when this otherworldly warrior appears out of nowhere to state this nonsense in my presence!

“I am not interested. Leave me in solitude.” I recall nearly spitting my hate on his face. Then I turned my back and started walking past the old stone markings of the ruined shrine.

A bark of malevolent chilling laughter issued behind me. What mocking horrific laughter! The sound of it and its echoing quality made my steps falter and brought the beginnings of dread bloom in my chest amidst the overwhelming grief and the hatred for that nonexistent god he obnoxiously mentioned.

“What you seek is not here, Sorcerer. It never was here in the first place.” He said unmoving from where he stood and casually leaned on a humongous sword I have failed to notice at first glance.

How easily could I have found murder in his hands the moment I turned my back in my careless arrogance? But he spared me, even letting my rudeness slip off so casually.

I stopped my half-hearted stride to face him in full. “What do you know about this place?”

“This place? What do you have those eyes for? This is a ruins.” He replied matter-of-factly, gesturing around the surrounding wild grassland littered in embedded broken stone with a sweep of his silver clawed gauntleted hand.

I mimicked his lenience and let the snide comment slide. A fang for a claw, I suppose. “This ruins, as you blandly call it, was once a shrine.”

“You don’t look like much of a worshipper to me.” It appears to me that the nameless warrior is intent on fanning the flames of my temper until I’m an incoherent homicidal inferno, which reminds me of a certain Archfiend…

“I didn’t come to this place to worship.” I told him as calmly as I could muster. My helm perfectly hid the already numerous death glares I’m throwing at him.

“Of course you didn’t. And if I know better you’ve come here to seek this.” Finally getting to the point of pestering me, I blanched at his words and my booted feet were instantly rooted to the ground when he showed the obsidian-like round object the size of a cockatrice egg he concealed somewhere beneath his sapphire-blue cloak. “HE had already summoned you through your dreams and that’s how you managed to procure knowledge of this.”

A sudden wave of sickness assaulted me as I witnessed the black spherical luminous object rise from that clawed hand and high into the air like it had a mind on its own.

It rose higher and higher slowly drifting towards me!

And when it was nothing but a speck of black high above, it gave off shimmering rays of bright light in contrast to its color. I had to shield my stinging eyes. The helm’s visor couldn’t protect me from the searing brightness… I might as well go blind.

“Embark on a journey with me, chosen champion. Let’s merge our worlds into one so you may fulfill your selfish desires, defy your fate, bring discord into your world and mine so it may bring forth harmony, prove your worth and strength to HIM as His champion!

But as night gives in to day and as the sun sets to give in to the moon, your time in Cornelia is limited. Make use of it wisely. For no such thing as permanence exists in both realms until the harvest is complete.

I will see you again, Golbez.”

His voice, dark, haunting, and hollow in its tone was at the back of my head when the image of a… black bird? Was burned into my mind’s eye, literally.

All of a sudden, searing pain threatened to gouge my eyes out. An invisible hand of fire was clawing its way through, tearing soft tissue from its socket. I reeled in pain and fear. I was about to go truly blind!

I cried out, my body broke into a series of prolonged and uncontrolled spasms.

But it didn’t stop there. Just when the smartness was beginning to abate, that same invisible force with the intent to punish had joined the first. The hairs on the skin of my nape prickled up when I felt it wrap shapeless, around my ankles.

I released a shaky breath anticipating the worst when the cruel destructive pull began. It had both the ends of my body torturously twisted; I was brutally being severed apart!

“Amidst the precipice of our journey, set your mind to the place where it all began, the place of your birth… your homeland.”

I screamed again.

I screamed and screamed.

Pain, unforgiving pain was my God.

It engulfed any thought, any sensation, any trace of my awareness into oblivion.

XxX

I recall finding myself staring at Baron’s fortified walls when I had come to.

I had unwittingly entered into a contract I was remotely aware of until I saw a knight fully clad in the darkest tint of armor emerging from the nearby woods.

There were fierce scrapes on the metal of his chest plate and blood was already dribbling down from his wounds. In a weak fidgety attempt he was trying to remove the stifling helm he wore.

Without thinking I immediately went for his aid. I helped him tug the clasps free where he couldn’t pry with his weak shaking fingers and at last the obtrusive piece of a headgear came off.

Dark mauve long hair spilled all over his shoulders in silken strands except the ones clinging to his face matted with blood. That pale-skinned face partially covered with cuts and clotted blood nearly made my heart stop. The resemblance was uncanny.

He reminded me of Cecil so much that I flinched when he looked me in the eye, “Thank you.”

This young man who had the pale skin like the moons’, with the slight muscular build, and unmistakable ethereal features was clinging tightly on the flesh of my bare arm. I instinctively wanted to be rid of him when the second peering look he gave me made my knees weak.

I realized I wasn’t wearing any armor at all.

My face was apparently exposed for him to see as well.

That knowing gaze burned me and I barely realized what I was doing as I fumbled with the pouch (thank goodness it was still there) on my belt using my free hand. I dug for the potion I always knew would be stashed in its confines and carefully detached him from me.

I couldn’t help but notice the similarity of our hands… mine was only larger than his— an unnecessary observation.

I nearly shoved the flask of potion onto his trembling hands in my haste and I swiftly turned away from him before he can call for me… whatever he might call me.

I watched him fleetingly as he stumbled backwards in surprise when I all but vanished before his eyes.

The heavy gates opening accompanied by swift thuds of armored feet, and crunch of armor plates grinding against each other filled my ears.

“Our dark knight has returned!”

“Call forth Lord Odin!”

A loud gasp cleaved through the indistinguishable shouts of foot soldiers.

“Princess, wait!”

“Oh my goodness! Princess Nastasha!”

“Let go!” Sounds of a struggle and the undignified protests of a female minder came next before the light running footsteps of slipper-clad feet permeated my senses.

While keeping myself perfectly hidden on my current perch at the treetops, I risked a glimpse of a young flaxen-haired maiden in royal garments embracing the wounded dark knight on the ground. I didn’t see her face but the voice… her sweet whispering voice was enough.

That same pure voice sang soft sighs of a lullaby in my childhood…

Oh (curse his name) god! I couldn’t take this anymore!

I rest my head against the strong bark of the tree and uttered blasphemies (that bring the evildoer to shame) under my breath.



“Such colorful words spouting from your unruly mouth.” A wry deep voice that was familiar to me now commented right next to my ear and I quickly cast the Float Spell before I disgrace myself by falling down from a tree, no less!

I whirled around to face the otherworldly warrior standing weightlessly beside me. I wasn’t even surprised to find that his booted feet weren’t planted on solid ground. “You again.” I snarled.

“Tired of my presence already, Golbez?” He smirked allowing sharp fanged teeth to show beneath the faceplate of his helm.

“How do you know my name? Who in the pits of hell are you?” I demanded, truly furious now. He was toying with me! How I hate to be played like this!

“Ah, I thought you’d never ask. But that is a secret I’m willing to impart with you when you finished your part of our contract.” He said in the same teasing voice, I loathed so much.

“Damn you, demon! I don’t recall signing my blood on that wretched thing you call, a contract!” I all but thundered on his amused face.

He raised his clawed hand demonstratively and in a gesture I know all to well just to spite me wiped the imaginary spittle from his helmed face. “Hitting two birds with one stone, I see. Well it doesn’t really matter to you these trivial things such as my name or my role here. I know that there is only one thing that matters to you.”

I took a deep breath. His knowledge of my thoughts, my plans and selfish desires was scaring the wits out of me. “And what… I pray tell do you know about that?”

Another harsh bark of laughter shook his armored frame. I was splitting hairs just to keep myself from strangling him.

“The iron is in the furnace, start tempering it right now.” He pulled me by the cloak and for a short moment he stared intently, amusedly at the fear creeping at the edges of my unprotected eyes. I realized he was fair larger than me without my armor.

I kept my face devoid of emotion when I felt his nimble fingers untangling the strap that held the pouch in my belt.

As quick as a flash, my pouch was back in place, tidied up like nothing happened but it felt much heavier now.

He patted my cloaked shoulder like we were old friends and turned his back on me. “Everything you would need to dispose of some lingering dirt is in there. Make use of what I’ve given you. We’ll meet again in due time.”

“Wait! Why are you helping me?” I called out for him by instinct. Something was still very wrong about this, my gut tells me. It was happening so fast and unclear intentions always bring my guard up.

A faint mist of eerie red was starting to engulf his semi-tangible form by the time he answered me, “A claw for a fang, I shall say. Your permanence for my eternity and your blood kin for my blood king.” His voice was already fading as he spoke the last two words. A shadow of the darkest black had consumed his form and he was once again, gone.

When I was certain not a trace of his essence was palpable, the courage that had left me in his presence returned once again and I examined this ‘token of our friendship’.

It was what I feared…

It was a harmless egg thoughtfully padded for protection.

(Line break)

And thus I have come in such a turbulent time. Several kingdoms were at war with each other. There were other rulers and monarchs vying for supremacy all over the planet. Aaragorn, Verunia, and Morgatte were such unfamiliar and foreign names. Were these the anomalies I have yet to encounter soon?

Aaragorn: a kingdom primarily famous for its brilliant chemists and a fearsome land and naval army. They claim to be descendants of the Sky People.

The Sky People known only in this name were said to have moon-pale skin, silver-white to ash-blonde hair, soft angelic features, and tall frames, slender to muscular build, highly intelligent in speech and manner, strong sense of family ties, iridescent eyes the color of the blue to indigo spectrum, and most of all they have very long life-spans, outliving the rest of the human race.

According to popular legend they were inhabitants of a distant dying planet and was said to reach Cornelia through the use of a flying vessel known as an ‘airship.’

An airship was able to travel in space, underwater, and other hostile environment just to reach its destination.

Long ago, the Sky People crash-landed on Cornelia destroying all of their airships in the process but brought them safely into a new habitable home.

Through intermingling with Cornelia’s primary inhabitants, the human race, the kingdom of Aaragorn was said to have traced its origins from there.

Verunia was another kingdom in old alliance with Aaragorn. A long generation of matriarchs particularly powerful white mages were said to be behind the kingdom’s patriarchal sovereignty. Intermarriage with Aaragorn was a long-standing tradition of the monarchy especially those among blood relatives to preserve the line of the Sky People.

And lastly, Morgatte that was surprisingly Baron for as long as I can remember had a weak and unstable form of governance: A legacy of the old monarchy. The House of Lords or the Noble Families generally possess power roughly divided amongst them and hence a puppet king or queen was common as scapegoat.

Cloaking myself in the shadows as the Ghost of Aaragorn, I have learned these much about Cornelia: my foster motherland.

And now several years have passed since that fateful meeting but I recall ‘our contract’ as if it were yesterday. I have tempered the hot clump of iron to perfection in the shape of my will. It was now a strong flexible blade lacking its lustrous shine.

The harvest was yet to begin.

(END OF PART ONE: PROLOGUS: Phantoms of Yesteryears)
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Crescent Stigma