The view from the walls of Baron Castle was spectacular this time of year. Snow glistened across the plains, yet the temperature was not quite cold enough to be uncomfortable. Porom took her time walking to the east tower, and she paused often to look over the parapet. How long had it been now? Eight years. Eight years since the last time she had gazed across the rolling grasslands, eight years since the second battle had been won. Eight years since the last time all of the companions had been together. Time had rushed by so fast: caught up in her studies and wizardry, the days had each gone by in a second.
With luck, things would slow down. She would have time to get her feet back under her. If she'd missed out on life before - and she believed she had - she could get in on it now. Maybe she would stay here for a while, enjoy herself. It was another luxury she had never had time for, nor really wanted; learning had always been more important to her than entertainment.
I'll ask Palom about it tomorrow, she thought. He'll probably want to stay, too, just for the chance to get away from the Elder for a few weeks. Porom grinned at the thought. Even past twenty as he was, her brother was still the sort to avoid work and responsibility whenever possible.
She stopped to look over the walls for a few moments. Palom could test the children, if he was up. If he wasn't...well, there was no hurry. It wasn't as if any of them were going to suddenly begin bursting with magic.
She stood there for almost half an hour before she was interrupted.
"You're a little late, you know." Kain's calm voice sounded behind her.
"I know," she said, without turning around. "I was just taking the time to look at the scenery."
"Rosa sent me to look for you. She was nearly frantic."
"She overreacts sometimes. She's always frantic when I'm not where I'm supposed to be. Someday, she's going to learn that I can take care of myself."
"Not today," Kain said wryly. "I trust you won't mind if I escort you to the tower."
She made a face at him. "Can't Palom take care of it? I haven't had much chance to just sit and stare blithely at something lately."
Kain's face broke into a rare grin. "No, he can't. He's in...delicate condition."
"Translation: he's drunk. Say what you mean, Kain." So long as it's not about that. She silently amended. But Kain couldn't hear her, and he would have no idea what 'that' was, anyway. Nor was it any of his business. Or hers, for that matter. She did her best to crush the sudden bitterness out of her mind.
"Aren't you being just a bit insubordinate to your elders?" Kain asked jokingly.
"Hah!" she said, "You might have been able to pull that on me when I was younger, but not anymore!"
"You're in a strange mood this morning." Kain noted.
"I'm having my first taste of freedom. You have no idea what my studies are like."
"Funny, I thought you liked to learn."
"I did. I still do. But right now, I just want to live."
There wasn't much Kain could say to that, so he didn't try. Instead, he turned and headed off towards the tower currently occupied by the twin children of Rydia and Edge, along with the heir to the kingdom of Baron. Porom sighed, and followed behind him. This was what they had come for, after all, but....
As they walked, she studied the old man. Kain had changed so much, since she had first met him. Once leader of the dragoons, he was now the second of the world's only two Paladins and the official commander of the Baronian army. He habitually wore his Paladin's sword at his side. It was a bit unnerving; he simply looked more natural, with his spear. The arms of a Dragoon. True, he still used the thing in battle, but it wasn't quite the same.
"This way," Kain intoned as he opened the base door.
"I know the route, Kain," she complained, "You don't need to guide my every step. I'm not a child anymore." Abruptly, she realized exactly how that sounded. Childish. "That," she said, "was a cruel thing to do, Kain."
"I know," he answered, smirking. Another change. He had a sense of humor, now.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Come on, let's get this over with."
Rosa met them at the top of the stairs. "Where have you been?" she demanded.
"The moon," she said somewhat flippantly. I must have changed more than I realize. she thought to herself. I would never have said that last time I saw her. But I guess four years is a long time.
Not all that long. she heard Palom's voice in her head.
Amazing. You're sober enough to talk to me, she answered him. She continued her dialogue with Rosa, but her mind was concentrated on her brother's thoughts.
Not really. Palom admitted. At least, you probably wouldn't be able to understand me if I did.
Point taken. I'll handle the children this time, but in the future you won't be able to get out of it so easily.
Of course I will. I'm sure none of you want to expose them to depravity until they're at least sixteen. She could almost hear the irony, though of course that was impossible. The sensations they passed back and forth, by a method that neither of them really understood, were not really analogous to speech. It was a direct passing of thoughts, composed more of images and concepts than actual words.
Just try not to get drunk again, okay? No response. Okay, Palom?
Do chocobos eat people?
No.
Porom waited for a few moments, but nothing else was forthcoming. He probably passed out and slid under the table. She thought sourly.
Some part of her mood must have shown in her face, because Rosa broke off in the middle of a sentence. "Are you all right?" the older woman asked.
"I'm fine, Rosa." No, I'm not. "Really, it's nothing." Yes it is. My brother's been getting drunk every day, I've been losing interest in the only thing that has ever been of importance to me, and I can't do anything about either of them. And you older people who are supposed to know so much haven't done a thing about it either! Her thoughts were irrational, of course; they had no idea how much Palom actually drank. A spell to banish hangovers took care of any outside hint of it. And her personal problems were none of their business anyway.
But Rosa seemed convinced by her spoken words. "They're in here," she said, opening the door, "You should be a bit quiet; they’re still asleep."
"Good. That makes it easier."
The three of them were napping on small cots, faces in the calm expression of blissful slumber. The twins were eight, now; Gylen was nine. All three born shortly after the second war; they would be showing the fist signs of inborn magic, if they had it. That was why Porom and her brother were here, to look for the faint traces of power. Until recently, it had not been possible; her own studies in the area had led to the discovery of a twitch in the psyche, barely detectable, but definitely there. The only hint ahead of time that a child would inherit the magic.
Porom spoke softly, so as not to wake them. She stood over Corvin first. The magic filled her mind, entrapped her body, paralyzed her soul; and yet at the same time, it felt like a warm wind sweeping through her. It was a short spell; amazing that something so simple had gone for so long undiscovered. She felt no spark. The boy had the gift of the Caller, Rydia had told her, but there was no trace of normal magic.
As soon as she completed the spell, she began another, quickly, with no change of pace. She was working on theory, now. She knew it would work. For a second time, she finished, and there was a peculiar aura about the boy. Red for pain of the body, gray for pain of the soul, violet for power, and faint pink for love. If she was right, they gave a glimpse of the boy's future. She hadn't told the Elder about this; one of the first things he had taught her was never to attempt to see the future. It was possible, he said, but extremely dangerous. For once, she didn’t care.
She opted not to inform the parents of the vision of pain she had just seen. Most likely, it was nothing more than the pain every person feels as they grew, and lived. Porom moved on to the second child, Gylen, son of Cecil and Rosa. She spoke again, and again found no trace of magic. She worked the fortelling again, and found the red that had permeated Corvin’s aura. Behind that was a faint yellow, for arrogance; Porom hoped it would only be a phase the boy would go through. There was also a bright orange, signifying strength. And behind it was a light blue, signifying a certain amount of personal purity. Not the purity of a Paladin, though; that would have shown up as pure shining white. This boy would not follow in his father’s footsteps.
Now that she thought about it, it hadn't been very hard at all. She wondered what the Elder had been afraid of. Probably just superstition; too many things in Mysidia were done a certain way simply because they had always been done that way.
She came to the girl, Caitlin, second of the twin children of Edge and Rydia. There was a slight - very slight - bit of power here. Nothing spectacular, though. The girl would never be a wizard, but there was some small talent there. Porom wondered if it would come out as Black or White; even though neither parent used the White magic, Rydia had in the past. The trait could have held true; only time would tell. If it was White, though, she would look forward to helping Rosa train the girl.
Maybe the experience would rekindle her interest in the learning of magic.
Once more, Porom delved into the depths of the future, calling forth the aura. Gray, which disturbed her; both the twins suffering that kind of spiritual pain was an unlikely coincidence, to say the least. She held the thought in, for now, and looked at the rest of it. Orange again here, for strength, but it was streaked with the bloody color of battle. What did that mean? Would she simply grow up to be good with a sword, or would she actually be involved in another war? Porom hated to think of the latter, but she couldn’t discount the possibility. Again, she set it aside and moved on.
It was the rest of the image that disturbed her the most. Pink, but with a dark blue undertone that meant infatuation, not love. That, Porom could live with. But behind that, streaking up and around the pink and blue, was another color.
And that color was black.
Porom studied the image carefully, keeping her face straight, her mind in focus. Black didn’t always have to mean evil. She ran the alternatives through her head, but none of them were good; deceit, treachery, corruption. Nothing pleasant.
She immediately resolved to tell no one of this. She wasn’t sure why, she just did. She would watch Caitlin carefully, as the girl grew up; with luck, something would show ahead of time. There was no doubt in her mind, now, that she would remain here. Her vision had decided for her.
All this crossed her mind in a heartbeat. Porom let no hint of what she had seen cross her face. She turned to Rosa.
"Finished?" the older woman asked.
"Yeah." Porom replied. "Corvin and Gylen show nothing. Caitlin has a little, but it’s not much, and we won’t know until later whether it’ll be white or black."
"If it comes out as white, she’ll probably be spending a lot of time here," Rosa noted. "Edge and Rydia wouldn’t be able to train her themselves. They’d want one of us to train her...at least, I hope they would."
Porom somehow managed a grin, "You know, the same thought occurred to me. Which is why I’d like to stay here. If you don’t mind, of course," she added hastily.
"Why, of course you can stay!" Rosa exclaimed, startled but delighted. "But won’t the Elder want you back in Mysidia?"
"He can live without me for a few years," Porom said airily, "besides, I’m old enough now to make my own decisions."
Rosa chuckled, "That you are, Porom...but somehow I think the Elder would disagree."
"True, but how am I going to know that he disagrees?" Porom asked, smiling widely. "After all, he can’t exactly tell me so; there’s a whole ocean between us."
Rosa laughed again. "I think you should go compose a letter," she told the younger woman. "While I go and shuffle around the airship schedules. Whichever ship carries it won’t be coming back to Baron anytime soon; that way, we won’t have to worry about an order to return."
Porom giggled, and they went back down the tower in good spirits, leaving the children in the care of a nanny. The day was bright, and some part of it seeped into their spirits. They parted at Porom’s door in a good humor.
She slumped against the wall once she was inside. The effort of putting a good face on to Rosa was almost more than she could handle; she would have to get better at it in the future. She didn’t bother to write the letter - it could wait for tomorrow. Instead, though it was only a little after noon, she climbed into bed and slept.
Time passed. Days stretched into weeks, weeks stretched into months, months stretched into years. And, like anyone with the gift must eventually do, the twins came into their magic.
For Corvin, it was not a problem. Rydia, skilled Caller that she was, taught him and guided him as he learned to communicate with the summoned monsters of the underground. But for Caitlin, things were different. In the winter of her fourteenth year, her mind finally began to touch on the supernatural, with the peculiar mix of White and Black magic in it characteristic of the Ninjas of Eblan. The frequent visits between Eblan and Baron began shortly after; Edge’s magic was almost pure Black, as was his wife’s, and neither of them trusted anyone so much as their old companions to guide the child into that other portion of Magic.
Time passed. Nine years of time. And, as is usually the case with time, the future eventually became the present.