There was a calm and tranquil air about the concert hall as the music permeated the room, the notes wafting through the air and soothingly seeping into his ears, but feeling as if it were being absorbed by his entire body. It made him feel free and for once at peace with himself. But he wasnât really sure if it was the music that was making him feel lighter than air, temporarily lifting that weight he had carried in his heart for so long, or if it was something else; something he couldnât quite put his finger on.

But perhaps he didnât need to think about it so much. The answer was right there, already occupying his thoughts. Her. It seemed he couldnât get her out of his head, and yet he didnât know why.

He tried to shake her from his mind and concentrate on the opera that had just begun. But the more he tried, the more she seemed to stay with him. A smile kept tugging at the corner of his mouth when he thought about the words she had used, absolutely refusing to go along with his idea. Iâm a GENERAL, not some opera floozy! She hadnât liked the idea, but she went along with it because it was the only way. The world depended on them, and her pride wasnât going to stop them from achieving their goal.

Locke had to admit that it was a pretty clever idea, switching Maria with Celes so that Setzer would kidnap the wrong person and lead the rest of the group straight to his airship. It was almost too perfect. Was that why he was feeling so good? Because of his great plan? No, that wasnât it. It was something else. Something about Celes. Itâs not that, is it? He asked himself. He shook the thought away as almost ridiculous. That belongs to someone else.

He tried to ignore his train of thought and instead focused on the stage, where the Narrator had just entered. "The West and East were waging war·" the Narrator began, using the inflections in his voice for the most dramatic effect. "Draco, the Westâs great hero, thinks of his love, Maria" Maria, thatâs Celesâ part, Locke thought to himself, not incredibly sure why he felt the need to remind himself of the obvious. The narrator continued, "Is she safe? Is she waiting?"

The Narrator was replaced by a war-ravaged battlefield and an actor wearing battle armor. Truly the knight in shining armor. He had been wounded in battle and was thinking of Maria. His tenor voice was loud, yet soothing at the same time. "Oh Maria. Oh Maria. Please hear my voice!" he sang, and Locke found himself identifying with this character, relating to him so quickly without understanding why. Why? Is it the feeling he is portraying? Does he remind me of myself? "How I long to be with you!" Draco continued in song. The words struck a chord deep in Lockeâs heart. Is that it? Surely not.

But he couldnât quite convince himself. All he could think about was her, when she was chained to that wall, that look in her eyes that revealed her entire life without saying a single word, that showed him her inner pain and turmoil, a life absent of love. Those eyes that lit up and came to life when he promised to protect her, ensuring her that everything would be fine, as if it were the first time anybody had ever said that to her. Those eyes that tore him apart inside when he realized that it probably was the only time anybody had ever said that to her.

His good mood started to change, not drastically but ever so slightly, to almost regret. Regret for what? For her? For putting her in this situation? The more he thought about it, the more he became aware that he was a little regretful for having made her do this. Maybe he should go check on her, make sure everything is okay. Why? Youâll just make her nervous. Besides, youâre probably the last person in the world she wants to see right now. No, I should just stay here and watch the opera and hope everything goes smoothly. Yes, thatâs the best thing right now. Then why are you standing? Locke looked around for a second and realized that he was indeed standing. Almost as if he were no longer in control of his body, he turned to the Impressario and said, "Iâm going to the dressing room."

The Impressario looked at Locke, slight concern in his eyes. "Is everything okay?"

Locke didnât really hear him. It was as if he was in a different world. A world all his own. He felt himself turn and head for the exit, giving no response or sign that he had acknowledged the Impressarioâs question. Why am I doing this? What am I going to say? I donât even know why Iâm going? His feet were on automatic, leading him slowly down the stairs and towards Celesâ dressing room. His heart started to race and pounded so heavily that it was the only sound he could hear, the thumping threatening to burst right through his ribcage. I should turn back now. I donât care what the others say or how embarassing it might be. Yeah, Iâll just head back, take my seat, and watch the opera. Celes will do just fine.

So why are you still headed towards the dressing room? No matter how hard he tried, he could not turn himself around. His feet were propelling him towards that door, towards Celes. And the only thing he could ask himself was Why?

He finally reached the door. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" her lovely voice inquired from the other side.

Turn. Run. Do it now. "Itâs Locke." He cringed as he said his own name, knowing there was no turning back now.

"Come in, Locke."

Without really realizing it, Locke had opened the door and stepped in, only to stop dead in his tracks. He was so filled with astonishment at the sight he beheld that he had to remind himself to breathe. Celes was standing by the makeup counter, radiant in a stunning white opera dress, lined with lovely marine blue trimming. Her hair was fixed in a long ponytail in the back, a navy blue ribbon holding it in place and streaming down with the rest of her soft, golden hair.

Locke approached her and looked into her piercing blue eyes, almost an icy blue, only to find himself averting his own eyes and dropping his head, his hand running through his dusty-blonde hair in a nervous gesture. He could feel himself blushing. She looked so beautiful, he couldnât help himself. She had transformed from an attractive but war-hardened general into the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. The transition was amazing, and yet he had to admit to himself, that perhaps it was not as shocking a change as he thought. Perhaps he had always seen her beauty through that ice-cold exterior she always hid behind, her warrior instincts afraid to show any sign of weakness. Which begged the question: Are you sure thatâs not it? Are you sure thatâs not why youâre here? The truth was, Locke wasnât sure anymore. He so wanted to tell her how breathtaking she looked, but all that seemed to come out of his mouth was "Aye yai yai! Izzat· you?"

Oh, my God! Did I just say that? That has to be the dumbest thing in the world to have said. Stupid, stupid, stupid·

But Locke became aware that either Celes didnât seem to think it was that stupid or her mind was elsewhere. Probably elsewhere. Sheâs got a lot to think about and she has to go out on stage in a few minutes. Thatâs a lot of pressure. Instead, Celes lowered her head for a minute and then turned and took a step to the side, so her back was to Locke.

"Locke." Her voice was a mixture of sadness and hopefulness at the same time. Locke wasnât sure where she was going with this, but he hoped she wouldnât ask him why he was here. He didnât even know, and he wasnât sure he could come up with a good answer on the spot. But she didn't ask him that. Instead she asked him a question he should hadn't been expecting, though he probably should have. "Why did you help me escape back there?"

All Locke could do was keep his head bowed. Why did I help her back in South Figaro? Me, Locke Cole, a member of the Returners, helping one of the Empireâs cruelest and most effective generals. Why? I donât really know why. He shook his head at that thought. Yes, you do know why. Because she needed help. Because of a promise you made to yourself. Because she reminded you of someone. Because·

He finally found his voice, though he noticed that it was laced with sadness and an underlying guilt. "I· once abandoned someone when she needed me·" Rachel. Rachel, the one true love of my life, dead because of me. Because I wasnât there to save her. That was why I helped Celes. I failed Rachel, but I promised myself I would never fail someone in need of help ever again. Celes needed my help. But is that it? Is that the only reason?

Celes turned around to look at Locke, and he could see a mixture of curiosity and sadness in her features. No, maybe not sadness. More like sympathy. Locke couldnât bear to look at her. What was she trying to get at here? Why does she keep asking me why I helped her? Itâs almost inconceivable that someone as amazing as she is could have feelings for someone like me -- a rogue, a dreamer, a drifter, and most of all, a failure. It just wasnât possible. Was it? It was all becoming so confusing, his mind racing with stray thoughts and unclear emotions. All of it a seemingly random flow, both real and unreal, his past colliding with his present, the unpredictable future hanging like a dark cloud overhead, a blur of colors and images, figures he had known and yet never known. And yet within that string of chaos was one recurring idea, one wisp of clarity, taunting him from just out of reach. It was something he couldnât quite see, something he couldnât quite make out. Or was it? Maybe it was clear as day, but he just didnât want to admit it. Maybe Iâm falling in love with her.

But what about Rachel? Rachel is the one you love. Your one and only. But there was no denying it. It was almost like an excuse, almost as if it were something he had to convince himself to believe. Maybe sheâs not your one and only. Locke walked to the doorway, his back to Celes, his head still hung a little.

Celes stared at Lockeâs back. Locke could feel her gaze, could feel it melting his heart. "Somewhere inside," she began, the sympathy and sadness clear in her sweet voice, "you were saving· her, werenât you·?"

Locke squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds, could feel that his eyes had watered up slightly, and then turned his head ever so slightly in her direction, catching her out of the corner of his eye. Face it, Locke. Rachelâs gone. Maybe somewhere out there youâll find the greatest treasure in the world. The treasure that will bring Rachel back to life. But when that happens, will you know why you are doing it? Would you be doing it out of love or obligation? As a way of easing your guilt and pain? That was a thought he didnât want to think about right now. He wanted to think about something else, maybe even nothing at all. The pain and guilt, topped by his new and unfocused feelings for Celes, added a greater weight to his heart. His emotions were building up inside, almost to the point where he could no longer control them. He wanted this conversation to end, yet he wanted it to last forever. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but for the first time in his life, words failed him. He didnât know how to respond to her question, not sure if he could ever truly answer the question, even to himself. To change the subject, all he could think of to say was, "That ribbon suits you."

Celes obviously picked up on the hurt tone in his voice and didnât press the matter. Locke was grateful. Grateful that she could sense his pain without making a big production of it. Instead, she picked herself up and jolted some enthusiasm into her voice. "On with the show!" She walked over to the make-up counter, the script lying open in the center, and glanced down at the pages. "This is a big scene in which Maria senses that somethingâs happened to Draco!"

Locke put on a false smile to hide his inner turmoil. She was about to go on. He should say something. "Youâd better check the script one last time." What was that? Yeah, sure itâs good advice, but maybe you should be telling her to Îbreak a legâ or something more meaningful and sincere. But when he turned around to tell her, she had already left to go onstage.

He could feel the tension inside of him as he walked towards the curtain to watch Celes perform, hoping that everything would go off without a hitch. Hoping that Celes would give a great performance. Hoping that in time everything would fall into place and he would truly understand what his future was meant to be, and knowing that no matter what happens, he would always be right there at Celesâ side, protecting her and fulfilling his promise ö not out of obligation, but out of love.