Final Fantasy/8-Bit Theatre Fanstories

[DarkCORN!]

Another Red Wizard/ RM's mentor, whatever.

[Seran]

Not exactly another Red Wizard/RM's mentor either, I'm afraid. But that's for me to know and for the readers to find out.

+++

"Why is everyone hiding from me?"
Red Mage rubbed his arms furiously as Crimson shut the door. He could feel the goosebumps and the cold skin, while he glanced from the door -- which seemed perfectly untouched -- to Crimson, who froze and proceeded to briefly stare at him. He sighed and turned his head away. He doesn't want to talk? thought Red Mage, gazing with puzzlement. Suddenly, someone stumbled into the room behind him through a doorway.
"Because!" shouted Black Mage. "It's all your fault this happened in the first place! Moron!"
"Sit down, Mage!" barked Crimson with a glare at their rude guest. Red Mage felt only shame. It wasn't his fault that the world was falling to ruin. He tried to reassure himself that none of it was because of him. Just because leviathans now ruled the seas and wyrms flew the skies did not mean it was because of him. Black Mage roughly sat down, grumbling and glaring at the poor man; Red Mage cringed behind Crimson, wishing for protecting and seeking a little comfort.
"It's because of you," seethed Black Mage, "that I have no chance of ruling or destroying this damn world. All I have left are my knives, you idiot! The only use I have for them is stabbing you!" As he raged, he yanked out a knife from his blue cloak, shaking it threateningly toward Red Mage.
"Stop it, Mage."
"Make me, Crimson. Huh. What a cliche name."
"I said stop it. RM, have a seat."
The strange sorcerer hastily departed to an upper room of the small house, leaving Red Mage to stand in the presence of his old comrade. Black Mage leaned back and glowered. He remained silent for the time, his yellow eyes fixed on Red Mage, who hesitantly pulled back a chair and sat down by the little square table, opposite of Black Mage. He shifted nervously, staring at the floor without wearing his cloak and hat -- Crimson had taken them with him, The gaze of the darker spellcaster was still on him. Seconds passed with mere silence, without a sound to disturb them, without a motion to bring any life. Red Mage put his hand on the table, his breaths quickened. He attempted to recollect what had happened that day, staring bleakly at the wooden surface.
It was that morning when he set all discord upon the land. He had decided to stray from the party for the day, as he had sought extra experience. To him, it had felt like a normal day for questing; a clear sky, a lovely sun, the peaceful whistles of a flute being played, and the gloomy appearance of a tavern full of troubled quest-givers. There was a particular one who had caught his eye -- a dwarf in a blue cloak, drunkenly speaking to a human in arctic attire. The dwarf was showing his partner a crown and collar, both golden, without a single jewel in any of the empty sockets. Red Mage has inquired him about it, but the dwarf was too drunk -- therefore, the knight form the northern tundras pointed Red Mage to his horse, telling him to visit one of his friends if interested in the items. Red Mage rode north to another icy knight. He was then given a jewel and sent east to yet another snow-specializing warrior, who told him about the collar and crown, then gaze him another jewel and sent him away to meet a naga in the south. The naga lived near the volcano and was hostile, but handed him yet another quest item, explained that ultimate power was to be theirs including ihm, and shooed the adventurer away to an old man. For that entire day he rode to and fro, obtaining gems and information. Red Mage was exhausted by the time he had reached his last destination. It was in an open area around a stone table beneath a cliff, where the first ice knight and dwarf awaited him. He had given them the jewels, and they completed the crown and collar. The warrior had then placed the crown on his head, the collar around the dwarf's neck, ordered the dwarf to sit on the stone table, and uttered a mysteirous incantation that none had mentioned before. The dwarf's eyes were glittering with joy at the thought of gaining untold power. The other knights and naga had come to be a part of the ritual, and the second knight explained that the powers could only be unlocked if a warrior of the fates collected the gems and delivered them to the holder of the crown and collar. The third had handed Red Mage, urging him to stand in front of the table. Some sort of unusual magic had then flodded the area. When the incantation ended, the first warrior pulled his woolly hood down, waving at his face and commenting about how hot it was. Red Mage, who held the staff in front of him with both hands, asked by it seemed so hot to the knight when the dwarf screamed. He turned his head and saw flames devouring the dwarf. Horrified, he had then tried to run, but the staff trembling in his hands didn't allow him. It froze him to his place. He watched as the flames claimed their sacrifice, then formed an orb in the claw of the staff, while a tail of fire whipped forward and dragged the naga in. The two knights celebrated but the one with the crown -- whose jewels glowed -- demanded that they remain quiet and watch the ritual. Red Mage could slowly feel a quivering in his chest. He was fearful of what it was...and then his magic stability cracked. His magic was abruptly expelled from his collapsing body, but the staff absorbed this magic, then the orb leapt back onto the stone table. A ring of light had then emerged from the table. An endless flood of monsters spilled out as the clouds turned black with a terrible wind roaring in their ears. These monsters were sent into the sky, scattering all over the planet. While Red Mage lay, the staff rolling away from him, he had seen the knights dance and since of mayhem and oblivion. The mage forced himself to stand. He was angry that he had been tricked -- but when the white of their eyes turned black, he knew immediately he had to run. The second and third had brilliant violet irises. The first had golden. Red Mage fled, his heart pounding, knowing that these nefarious fighters had disgraced --
"Fighter!" he exclaimed, breaking away from his memories. "Fighter! Where's Fighter?"

[DarkCORN!]

Aw. How sad. Poor RM.

[Seran]

Black Mage was alarmed at this outburst, raising his eyebrows. "Disappeared after some mutts from hell destroyed the town."
"What? He's not here?"
"Do I have to repeat everything I say, nimrod?"
Red Mage's look of shock fell. "I-I thought you'd...I mean, I thought he'd be with you." He rapped the table with his four fingers, staring back at Black Mage. "And Thief?"
"Not in commission, that's for sure!"
"What?"
"See, while you were gone, mister Rainy came in and out-Thiefed Thief. Thief's -- "
"Dead?"
"Yeah!"
"Buh-but...you...he...no. No, no, no! I refuse to accept that!" yelled Red Mage, pounding his fists once upon the table. "But...what can I do about it?"
"...Burn for being a heretic?"
Red Mage blinked.
"I -- what?"
"Look, don't deny it. You let loose demons upon this hunk of crap called the earth."
"I'm not even -- ! You're just -- ! You're just crazy!"
"Oh am I? Am I crazy? You're calling me crazy, you psycho idiot with the feathered hat? I think you're crazy!"
"How dare you -- "
Red Mage stood just as Black Mage did, and he leaned over the table with his hands on it while he and Black Mage argued at their loudest. However, Crimson stomped down, shrieking horribly.
"Sit down! Sit down! My God, sit down!"
They immediately did so.
"Mage!" he barked at Black Mage, and Black Mage jumped in alarm. "I warned you! You're one more step closer to an idiot's damnation!" He snarled as the dark sorcerer shrunk back, glaring indignantly in return. As he turned his eyes on Red Mage however, he relaxed and let loose a sigh. "Come. We have...much...to discuss."
"Where are my clothes?" Red Mage asked quietly.
"Being washed." Crimson swept his arm out toward the door, then let it fall beneath his cloak. "Let's go." He watched while Red Mage tumbled out of his chair and hurried to the door.

People. They shuddered and cowered, then dashed away at the sight of the approaching Crimson and Red Mage. They were like rats -- always running, hiding glowering, and always desperate. They scowled. They sneered. Some merely cringed away. Red Mage followed Crimson through the gloom with great wariness in his frightened eyes, his body stiff with fear. As he ambled along, an orange orb suddenly crept out of the small pouch that hung from his belt, rolling up his side and sitting on his right shoulder. There it perched with a flaming design in its center. Its presence made Red Mage groan, for it was the reason his skin was so fragile, that he was so weak. If he tossed it, the orb rolled back. If he shattered it, the orb reassembled. There was absolutely nothing he could do to dispose of the persistent item. The night ruled the skies, the cold was absolute, the silence was true, and the air smelled of debris.
"Where...where could Fighter had gone?"
Crimson abruptly halted, his cloak swaying at his ankles. Red Mage stopped.
"What is it?"
"Fighter has...ah...sacrificed himself to a greater power..."
"Sacrificed?"
There was a pause, and then he lifted his head.
"Let's say he has reformed. You won't -- " He sighed, " --you won't recognize him anymore."
"He's still alive? Wait...how do you know him?"
Crimson shook his head. "Too many questions..."
He continued down the path with a hesitant Red Mage on his tail. They said nothing as they proceeded, heading to whatever unnamed destination would soon be there.
"Where are we going?"
"Just... It's just a walk."
"So we're going back...there?"
"I apologize if you do not like Black Mage." Crimson kicked over a stone and sent it rolling into a ditch. "However, you will have to deal with him."
Red Mage remained silent, following him as his eyes watched the stone roll away. He was not sure of what he wished to say now. There was nothing to say in this dead night. There was nothing to say except, "Everyone blames me for this." Crimson replied with nothing. "It's...not my fault. Really. I didn't... You know, I wouldn't... I wouldn't... Crimson?" There was nothing left to say. There was truly nothing.
At that, Red Mage began to think. Where would Fighter go in his current 'reformed' state? What did Crimson mean by reformed? What was he to do to compensate for the grave mistake he had brought? He sighed at these many questions, none of them answered, and kicked another rock away from him as he tried to push the orb off his shoulder. It didn't budge. Stupid, worthless ball. He began to feel cold in the night, hugging himself to protect his warmth, hoping only that some light would be shed upon this disaster. He breathed deeply, looking to the stars, but when something moved the bushes nearby he suddenly yelped and raced to Crimson in alarm. He had become more easy to frighten since the encounter with the ice knights. Red Mage quickly glanced back, thinking he would see a demon of sorts ambushing them, yet he only saw the path and the distant skies. This was ridiculous. He remembered how Vilbert had first jumped him, dragged him back to some unknown lair where there were several others monsters -- the Dark Warriors included -- ready to maul him and utterly decapitate him, and how he had escaped by pure wit. Unfortunately, his wit was how he nearly lost all of his limbs and eyesight. He was lucky enough to be right behind a boulder that tumbled and crushed half of his foes. Now that he has Crimson, there was nothing to fear, and yet he just had this dreadful feeling that something would be awry.

[Quickman X]

Whoa, conspiracy theory. Crimson = :fighter:? Hmm…
…no idea. Dammit, I’m gonna be up and thinking about this all night, and right before finals too… that’s just cruel and unusual. Wah.
::edit:: Damn, that can't be right. Reviewed the evidence. Fighter would ne'er even speak of dice, let alone the "natural twenty trumps all."
Curse you and your ability to poke holes in theories, Seran. Curse you, I say!
Hey, did anyone ever notice that "curse" is an anagram of "cures?" They mean close to the opposite, but *is gagged and thrown into a padded jail cell*
...yeah, okay, I'll shut up now.

[DarkCORN!]

Hmm...I was thinking Red Mage got a split personality and one of his personi is Crimson.

[Seran]

"Perhaps someday people will come to respect you."
He stared out dreamily at the stars, the stars in the heavens from which light descended and across which clouds did drift. Crimson's eyes were dull with something Red Mage could not read. They stood by the river -- a path through which the waters moved so mournfully, their voices gurgling with sadness in a quiet requiem for the thoughts that had died away in the storm. Red Mage swayed in the momentary peace. He tilted his head at Crimson in an attempt to see past those familiar eyes, to see past the shadows of the hat he wore and the bleakness of his gaze. And yet, he could see nothing but despair.
"Hm...yes. Someday."
A pause came, a silence so long -- and yet in truth -- a silence so short. It seemed to Red Mage that this was all just a dramatic moment, but for a purpose unknown to him.
"How did you become such an advanced and intelligent wizard?"
"Do you really think that?"
"You're good, I'll give you that. But not as good as me."
Crimson closed his eyes. A smile beneath the mask over his mouth could be seen, but only faintly in the darkness. Red Mage could see something drop from his chin. A tear.
"I'll...never catch up with you."
"What?" Bewildered, he could only blink at the black-haired warrior. "What are you talking about? You only know me because you saved my life! I owe you for that."
Crimson bowed his head at the humming river respectfully, and he turned his eyes onto Red Mage, pushing his hat down over the side of his face. Perhaps he didn't want the mimic to see that single tear that had escaped him.
"I don't think I can really tell you."
He observed with exhaustion while Crimson knelt down by the river. He courched down as well, staring at his partner, but when Crimson remained motionless he looked to the surface of the waters, then reached forward and allowed the threads of cool liquid slip past his delicate fingers. The carcass of a fish floated on by. He drew his hand away with surprise. The fish drifted along, stinking of death, and Crimson reached forth and took it away from the grave it had floated upon for some untold time.
"I can't believe I started all this. I don't know how to fix it either. It's all so confusing...I can't find those blasted knights anywhere..."
"You'll find something."
"Like what? Dust and dirt?"
Red Mage sighed wearily. Never had there been such a burden on his shoulders when his shoulders were stronger. He watched another fish carcass float by, and minutes later came another, then another, and yet another. The new silence was not as strange as it should have seemed. Red Mage found himself counting the corpses that floated by. One, two, three, four, five, it seems that there is one alive, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, and to complete that would be a dead hen. He asked himself why he was rhyming. He continued counting, but after pointing at the twenty-seventh fish that was dead, he leapt back in alarm at the sight of a much larger corpse. It was mangled and ruined with scars running over what skin it had left.
"What the -- !"
Crimson leaned over as the body floated by. "Looks like a dwarf."
"A dwarf?"
"Burned and smelling of oil. With some stabs in the eyes and a slit in the throat. Oh, and what's this?" He lurched forward, violently latching onto the man's throat. "His beard's been shaved as well. Sounds like someone wanted to dishonor him before he died."
"What's this about dishonor...? First my clothes, and then this guy's beard?"
"Maybe they want to screw around and polay with us while we're still scared to go out in the day," Crimson growled, and he hauled the corpse out, despite the stench that followed.
"What are you doing?"
"Burying him."
"Burying -- we can't bury him!"
But Crimson's glare replied otherwise. With a sigh, Red Mage nodded and watched as his fellow wizard dug out a great pile of dirt from the earth, spending all of his time into making a suitable grave for someone they did not even know. He was not even halfway done when trouble struck like a cobra's fang.
Three elemental demons arose from the earth, with manes of brilliant green flames wreathed about their necks, their eyes glowing white and claws awkwardly stretched. Their flesh was brown like the dirt from which they were born. Their breaths were rank and humid. Their claws were black and fangs yellow, menacing Red Mage and Crimson. Crimson leapt up in alarm and drew his sword as Red Mage retreated to him, clinging to his cloak with fright. The three elementals growled and sputtered, scratching threateningly at the air. Crimson answered with a filthy scowl. He drew a second blade from his belt as swiftly as he could, and he twirled the two in front of him.
"Stay behind me," said he firmly to his comrade. Red Mage cringed. The two blades gleamed, as if scowling in return to the claws and fangs, as if scorning the blackness of the claws with their own dark glory, and scoffing at the flames with a fiery hate. Red Mage never understood why there was so much black on Crimson.
The three monsters all leapt at once. They, roaring and blubbering, pounced and attempted to dig their claws into the pair, but Red Mage ducked beneath Crimson, who lifted his blades and twirled them swiftly. The swords whipped across one's face and grazed the hands of the others. Retreating, the monsters leapt back a distance, snarling. Crimson spat and snarled back. He, himself, was a feral beast within himself. While Red Mage cowered, he could hear the elementals launch forth, rip at Crimson with fangs, and the heat of green embers flew across the air. He crawled away as quickly as possible. A small pebble interrupted him as he placed his palm upon it, and it immediately dug through his feeble skin, causing him to bleed at the very moment he touched him. He lifted his hand and winced, and with his short nails tried to remove the pebble. It was a depressing thing. He was the most fragile creature on earth. Red Mage extricated the pebble before proceeding, listening to the clangs of metal against bone, and the tearing of flesh that took event behind him. The river murmured darkly. A monster howled in defeat, struck down by a blade slashing through its chest, and fading from view. Red Mage found himself crawling into the river, despite the corpses of fish that floated by. He suddenly found himself beneath its surface as the waters grew violent. A wave overcame him. He fell into the darkness, into the cold realm where no air could free his lungs. A cold hand coated with grease gripped his around the neck from behind, dragging him down while growling quietly at him.
In a voice that echoed through hollow waters it said, "This is all your fault."
Red Mage tried to scream as he panicked. The creature was dragging him down deeper into the river, and as hard as he fought to free himself, the steel points of a trident playing along his skin released trails of blood into the water.
"I'm going to make you pay for doing this. My home is destroyed because of this."
Let me go! Let me go, you slimy no-good freak of nature!
The trident quickly pierced his back, slid through entrails, and went right to the front of his stomach. Bubbles escaped him out of reflex. He gulped down water and began to choke, struggling but immediately losing strength. He had no air. He tried to move, tried to escape, but he was impaled on a three-pronged stick.
The surface above was even more disturbed as a black figure broke through, seeming to writhe in the water. The current was not affecting him -- and yet it was starting to carry off the arrival. Crimson dove down, reaching out for him, sword clutched in his hand. There were threads of black pulling away from him for some reason -- from his head, it seemed. He lunged forth at Red Mage and grabbed his wrist. At the same time, he drove his sword past Red Mage's shoulder right at his foe, and a reverbrating scream shook the river as Crimson pulled him away and retreated to the surface of the waters. He pushed him onto the shore, opposite of where the elementals had attacked, and Red Mage tumbled along the ground with weak but harsh coughs. Crimson followed him onto land. Both were on their stomachs. Without hesitation, Crimson arose, walked over to his comrade, and yanked the trident out of his back with great fury. Red Mage only emitted a small cry of pain.
"...Bleeding...."
"I'm not blind, and nor am I deaf. I know you're bl -- "
There was a splash; Red Mage looked back, and Crimson was gone.
"Crimsuh -- Crims -- ker -- kuh -- "
There were many attempts from Red Mage to speak his name, and yet with every effort he only vomited small amounts of blood. From there he remained immobile, dazed and dying. His head fell back onto the grass so that he could only gaze at the stars. The waves in the river leapt and danced in the air violently, by the battle that heatedly roared beneath. He could see blood and threads of black. He could see flashes of steel in the rushing waves, and the glimpses of two figures struggling below. Every now and then Crimson would emerge to take a gulp of air, before he was dragged back down and forced to fight. Red Mage could feel his life slowly seeping away from his body, with every drop of blood that dripped into the river and joined the dead fish.
Then Crimson climbed out, panting and coughing. He coughed out water and he coughed out blood. He crept over to Red Mage without a smile to be seen, then swept his hand over him and said, "Cure-2." Red Mage's wounds healed quickly and painlessly, and Crimson fell onto his back, casting the spell over himself.

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I wonder what's happened to the Dark Warriors versus the Light Warriors story.

And the other stories, not to mention.

[DarkCORN!]

See? All you need is a good threat and BAM! : inspiration.

[Seran]

You threaten me every time I don't update.

[DarkCORN!]

Update, damn you! Don't make me get the rehabilitator! *shakes fist*