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The Artifact	By : PandaBearzh Category: Final Fantasy Games > Final Fantasy XIII-2 Views: 2037 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the final fantasy fandom. I do not make $$ from this fiction.

Chapter List
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[NAN]

“That’ll do, Vanille,” a velvety tone advised from somewhere behind them. Vanille jumped back quickly strapping her top back to its position before the two were joined by a third. She seemed rather frantic about it, immediately abandoning her previous mechanizations, much to the male’s dismay. Her attention was focused a distance far behind him, a distance he was unable to turn and investigate. It was all that he could do to focus on the silhouette that was growing on the sand to his right. Vanille was holding her hand up, shielding her eyes from their unannounced exposure to the sun.
It was a woman, which was very clear to see. Noel could very easily make out the curves of her hips, and shoulders. Her attire was a mystery, but it appeared that she was draped in a cloth that wrapped from her shoulder to her hip. She carried with her some sort of hammer shaped object with her – or no, was it a javelin? It was difficult to tell from the distorted shadow. He saw her head tilt towards him before she balked in the doorway.
“Hi, sweetie….” Vanille offered with a weak smile, breaking the stiff silence. “What’s that look for? Oh, I did that because I didn’t want him you know, casting….” She trailed off. The mystery woman dropped the leather flap that draped over the doorway, signaling her finite entrance to their party.
“Why don’t you wait outside or go check on Snow?” Her voice was drawing nearer and nearer, and the male couldn’t help but feel uneasy at his inability to hear her footsteps on the sand. Was he about to be tossed in the middle of a lover’s spat involving the leader of a militia that carried around a killing stick? A bead of moisture pooled from his hair and escaped down his temple. There was a sudden rough jerk at the gag knot fastened behind his head and he became relieved of its restrictions.
“What did you do that for! What if he does something to you!” Vanille cried, rushing to her leader’s side. Noel took the opportunity to spit out the cloth in his mouth, pitching forward in the process to drop it as far away from his person as possible.
“Don’t,” the voice warned the girl sternly. “My sources tell me that he is not who we thought he was.” Vanille frowned dramatically and opened her mouth to disagree. “I said, don’t…” There existed a certain degree of finality in her voice that disinvited any further discussion on the topic. “Please wait outside.” She took a step between Vanille and kneeled forward over Noel, cutting the binds that restrained him to his chair as well. For the first time, Noel was able to catch a glimpse of her.
“Are you Fang?” he blurted, eyes wide with anticipation. She paused in her undoings with a smirk. Yes, that would serve as answer enough to his question. “Oh, god! You two are legendary! Right? You’re the two who saved Cocoon? Or no—What year is it?
“What? Oh… uh… yeah…” he added feeling a bit embarrassed; she had quite obviously noticed his erection.
“My name is Oerba Yun Fang,” she affirmed. “But I don’t know what you mean about us saving Cocoon. You see,” she leaned in closer, as if she were about to share a very personal secret, “We’re about to enjoy an evening banquet to fund its annihilation.” Her smoky eyes flashed hungrily, and her lips contorted into a twisted smile resembling a hunter who had successfully cornered his prey. “Isn’t that right, partner?” She asked, a bit louder. Noel got the distinct impression that she wasn’t talking to him and searched the left and right for another person. He saw no one. He heard no one. “Like you heard, there seems to have been a misunderstanding. We were under the impression that you maliciously attacked someone very dear to us. Isn’t that just… ridiculous?” Noel remained silent. There was something about the sarcastic way she was looking at him that made him believe that his best phrased explanation wouldn’t cut it in this scenario. Fang walked herself to the wall across from him and leaned herself casually upon it, resting one of her arms on the top of the staff she had carried in with her.
“I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Traveler,” she added finally, raising her palm in a universal gesture for her captive to rise to his feet. Noel did so immediately, side stepping to the left as to keep Fang in his sights. The room was relatively small; it wasn’t long until he was able to flatten himself against the southern wall. “Traveler?” she invited, as if passing the spotlight and not to Noel. He turned wildly to see who she could have been talking to, and jumped in surprise when he realized that in the corner of the room, there actually had been a man watching the entire scene.
He was quiet, sturdy, and impressively still in posture. Noel hadn’t even seen him enter, had he been there the entire time that Vanille was masturbating on his lap? It was possible. The man looked like a shadow himself! He stood an estimated six feet in height, and wore a black hooded cloak that covered his frame so well that it dragged on the ground and no part of his body could be seen. As far as Noel was concerned, this man had no hands. His shoulders were thick and broad, a good twenty-three inches or so in span. He imagined that he would probably have a fit torso underneath by the way he was holding himself. There weren’t many people he was aware of who could stand in such an attentive position for so long without shifting their weight. Perhaps the most distinct feature that this “Traveler” possessed though, was his mask. It was constructed of a material that resembled rough obsidian and featured tight black netting behind the eye sockets and nostril orifice. There was no mouth. This mask was fastened securely beneath a black cowl of the same material as the cloak he wore. Alltogether, he resembled an executioner.
“…med me that you can help with that somehow,” Fang’s voice was being tuned in and out while Noel and the man faced each other. He couldn’t ignore the unshakable feeling that he had met him before somewhere. There was a dark aura that surrounded him, poisoning the air immediately nearby. The brunette both wanted look beneath the mask and never be in the same room as the man again. Fang was going on and on about something, but he couldn’t break the contact he had with this “Traveler.” Was this the force that had pulled him through the gate so unwillingly? Noel’s tongue ran over his canines as he tried to engulf and understanding the unique sensation he experienced by being so close to The Traveler.
“I know you, don’t I,” he accused, interrupting Fang’s long-winded request, “Caius?”
“Caius?” Fang echoed, appearing only slightly ticked at the discovery that she had been ignored. “Is that your name? You never told me.” Silence. “You’re right,” she nodded after a moment to The Traveler, “We should fill this wet blanket in on what’s going on around these parts.” She turned back to Noel, “and then maybe you can explain to me how you managed to cast magic.”
“Managed? What? Of course I can cast magic.” How were they communicating? The man hadn’t moved, and he hadn’t said a word, Noel was absolutely sure!
“Show me. Right now,” Fang challenged, “Can you heal? Can you grow?”
“I can heal… I’ve never heard of growth though. Whoa, whoa,” he took a few steps back towards the wall. Fang had flipped her weapon and was aggressively advancing towards him. Yeah, he figured as much. Not many normal people could use magic, so he had probably just branded himself some sort of witch.
“Shut up!” Fang bitched back at the masked man, “It’s worth a shot! What, are you going to stop me?” She grabbed Noel high on his arm and forced him to walk in front of her. She pushed him through the entrance and out into the street where villagers looked on with surprise.
It was unexpected to the prisoner, the villagers looked out of place compared to Vanille and Fang. If it weren’t for their sheer number, he would have thought that they were perhaps visitors who had purchased less colorful versions of locally flavored attire. Most of them wore earthen tones: browns, grays, and slate tones were the most predominant. Most of the women exposed their midriffs, but the males were robed from shoulder to hip, without exception. The streets were saturated with pedestrians, and he felt the weight of the gaze from each and every individual. Was it because his shirt had been stripped from his flesh? Was it because of the difference in his bone structure? Was it the wildfire-speed rumors that he had mortally wounded a beloved son of the town? At least his blood had ceased boiling and his soldier was no longer at salute.
Fang was admirably strong in the grasp she clutched on his bicep. If she had lived in his time, he mused, the time of 700AF, she would have been a superb warrior. If he wasn’t so concerned for where his final destination would be, he may have even discovered an odd sense of security in her powerful position. Many of the bewildered, fearful, and angry looking villagers that they passed would have called their brothers to arms if Noel had passed through these streets on their own, but they had tremendous respect for their leader. Even as a visitor to this plane, he found himself proud of the way that the crowd parted for her. Of course, it could also have been that they wanted nothing to do with him. He saw nothing but damnation brewing behind their eyes. It was a hellfire that was equal in power to the punishment and retribution that their land had been dealt increasingly in the past few years. If he had to guess, the temperature hovered somewhere around ninety-four degrees Fahrenheit in this hell of theirs.
“In!” Fang commanded, shoving him none too gently through the entrance of a larger, circular hut with three yellow stripes painted on the exterior wall. Why did this place look so nice compared to the shack-like structure he had been held in previously? It was cooler in here too, a great deal cooler. The floor was of poured stone tile, a section of it having been renovated to permit a naturally occurring spring fountain to flow along the perimeter before descending into archaic looking piping. In the center, the man he had met at the waterfront lay on a raised bed that looked uncomfortable at best. He looked dead. “Heal him. And, if you do anything funny…” Fang threatened, finally releasing the binds that held his wrists behind his back.
Noel rubbed his wrists thoughtfully, wondering if he should cast a cure or a raise spell. His eyes raked Snow’s body for answers, but found none that would serve adequate. Ultimately, he decided it certainly wouldn’t kill the guy if he tried both. He held his palm steady and began to focus. He needed to concentrate his energy into his hands in order for this to work without his swords.
“Well?” the woman demanded.
The youth’s eyes scanned his hands and brought them a little closer to his eyes to examine why it wasn’t working. “Have you tried potions?” Fang looked angry. “Phoenix Blood?” he tried again, his confidence eroding to dust by the second. Her hand found its way to his neck, and she lifted him off of the ground.
“Phoenix….what?” she growled, grasping his neck and letting his feet kick into the air. “Cast something, goddamnit!” She screamed at the wheezing, struggling stranger.
“Let…me…g—” Her grip tightened and her brows furrowed, appearing to only get angrier by his feeble attempts to escape. Didn’t she know that he was trying to cast? Something wasn’t right, it was so wrong! Why couldn’t he cast? He couldn’t cure or awaken Snow, and he couldn’t defend himself against Fang. He couldn’t even attack her.
“Fang! Fang! Please! They’re coming, they’re coming!” Who was that? His eyes were starting to water and the best he could make out was that it was a female…and not someone he would recognize. The wild woman grit her teeth and dropped Noel on the floor from his position.
“Move an inch,” she warned, “and you’ll wish you’ve never been born.”
“Shit!” Noel coughed, rolling towards the exit on the cold floor. He had missed his one chance to redeem himself in front of these people. Obviously, it had been an incredible misunderstanding, and if that robed man was Caius, then there was work here that he needed to do. On the other hand though, if Caius and Fang were partners… He looked up at her, but she wasn’t paying attention to him. She had already turned on her heel and was fleeing through the heavy leather door-flap. Could Fang be trusted? Where all criminals in this village treated the same way that he had been?
“Wait!” he shouted after her. Who was coming? What was going on? He pulled himself to his feet and dashed after her, determined to be of help in some way. The leather flap parted easily for him and he sprung forward into the daylight.

[NAN]
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The Artifact