Note: please start reading the new material starting from the RECAP chapter.

An unofficial sequel to Final Fantasy 6. Ch.17-What would you do when you finally find your friend from years ago, only to discover that they are more different now than you can imagine?

Era of Change

Author: Furysetzer

Disclaimer: Are these still needed? SquareEnix owns Final Fantasy & all the trademarks to the games (even when the milk runs dry). This fan fiction story is only for fun, & no money is being made (but how grand that would be!). Lastly, where's my FFVI DS remake!?

Ch.17-"Answers. Past Lives."

Upon the sun drenched beach, a man washed ashore.

The day was clear. Sunshine rained down upon the sand and water, and a heated warmth filled the morning. In the sky, a few clouds lined the majestic blue of the vast open space. Gentle waves lapped up to the edge of the beach. Along the ground, a group of curious gulls cawed and waddled on the sand upon seeing the man.

He lay nearly face first upon the ground. He did not move at all, and looked dead.

Pounding footsteps. Skidding to a halt, the sandaled feet gave away to knees covered in baggy pants. Roughly turning him to his back, the person immediately began pumping his chest.

Sputtering up salt water, the man opened his eyes through the coughing. They rolled back upon seeing the horribly scarred face.

"I don't believe it…" the person said. "After all these years…" Shaking him, he called from far away, "VERNASH…"

He could barely hear him. He felt himself shaking. All he knew then was darkness.

______________

Awakening. Immediately, one eye open. Darkness. Then, the other. Staring at the nothingness for several moments. They felt like much longer.

Recollections. The last thing was… but how? Where was he? The scarred man. A feverish dream. Right now he was… lying down. A soft mattress with a heavy woolen blanket covered him. He… didn't feel well. Hot. Too hot. Already, his head was starting to spin.

A light from a distance away shown forth. Someone emerged from it. It was stinging his eyes, and he couldn't see anything but a dark shadow. The person closed the light somewhat and walked in further.

He tried to speak, but couldn't. His head was spinning too much.

"Well…" he man muttered. "You're finally awake…"

He walked past him and retrieved something. He returned a second later and started propping him up.

Vernash couldn't control his body. He felt too hot and weak. He came to a sitting position as limp as a newborn baby.

"Drink," came the command. A cup was brought to his lips, and he tried making his mouth and throat work. Most of the water spilled out and fell onto the blanket.

"You're worse off than I thought…" he mused. "Try to drink. You're probably very pyretic."

Vernash tried to get it down, but barely could. What did go into him felt like needles in his stomach. Involuntarily, he rolled over and retched onto the floor. Bile spilled onto the rock floor.

When it was over, Vernash managed to roll back onto the mattress. He gasped for breath.

"Rest for awhile," the man suggested. "We can talk later…"

He strained to look at him through the bright light. His vision was dark and blurry, but he was determined. He caught barely a glimpse of the individual who saved him and shuddered. It was unmistakable. The horribly scarred face of the man was strong, and yet his eyes were saddened. It was a man he thought he might not ever see again. It was his old friend he was sent to find.

Darkness claimed Vernash again. Before he succumbed, he was able to whisper, "Shadow… it's you…"

_________

Vernash woke again sometime later. He didn't know how much time had passed. That was the furthest thing from his mind. His immediate thought was of his savior back on the beach.

He tried to say something, but he coughed instead. His lungs and throat were like sandpaper. What he tried to say turned into a croak.

After his fit, something caught his watery eyes. A fireplace in the corner cast its luminescent flames across the room. They danced across the walls and brought dim light into the room. Near there, the man stared at him from a sitting position on the floor but did not move.

Breathing heavily, Vernash asked, "More… water…?"

He rose, and then filled another half cup of water from a pitcher. Saying not a word, the man came over and knelt. He propped him up again and put the cup to his lips.

This time, he was able to drink from it. Carefully, he managed to not spill much. It did not hurt his stomach as much, nor did he feel the overwhelming urge to vomit.

Afterward, Vernash lay back down again, gasping with the exertion. He started to sweat again, and this time, began to shake. Still, he stared incredulously at the other man as he replaced the water from the table and sat down next to him on the floor.

"How the fates mock us, Vernash…" the man said wistfully.

Not knowing how to respond, Vernash didn't say anything. His shaking subsided. A very slight chuckle escapes him. "Indeed…"

"How many years has it been…?"

"Too… long…"

"You know…" the man began. "I haven't seen you since before the world came undone. What strange fate it is that after all this time, you show up again in my twilight years…"

Vernash looked at him and raised his eyebrows. "You're Clyde… before you became Shadow. But yet, you are… different again. You were my friend…"

He smiled to himself. "And for awhile… I was Clarke. But those were all lifetimes ago. Now I am simply Clyde again. The same name I was given in my birth. The past is… gone. Just gone."

After a moment, Vernash wondered, "Twilight years…?"

Coming back to the present, Clyde studied him again. "Don't worry about me right now. It's you that is sick."

As if he was reading the future just then, the bedridden man started shaking again. A light perspiration covered his brow. He closed his eyes, trying to get his body under control. Eventually, he calmed. Sleep overcame him forcefully.

______________

When Vernash woke again, his mind was clearer. He could feel his limbs. They were very stiff and sore. His skin was greasy, yet itchy and sore. How many days had he been bed ridden? He tested his strength. While his muscles were weak, he was able to lift his arms and legs. As far as he could tell, nothing was missing. Looking around, Vernash saw that he was alone in the room.

He suddenly realized had an irresistible urge to urinate. It took him long moments to roll off the mattress onto the floor. Vernash saw that he was clothed in just an undershirt and underwear. He gasped, but with exertion, came to his knees and then feet. He swayed, grasping the wall to steady himself.

His clothes, armor and weapons lay in a corner. Somehow not concerned with them, Vernash stumbled to the doorway.

In the next room, he saw that he was actually in a large cave. From the main chamber, there were tunnels leading in different directions. From the largest one, a light shown forth.

Vernash walked into early morning daylight. The sun was already up, and it stung his eyes. It took a few moments for them to become adjusted. A brisk wind gently swayed in no particular direction, giving him goose bumps. He carefully walked on the soft grass to a secluded spot meters away and did his business.

Starting to shake again, the mercenary went back to the cave. How strange to find Shadow again, and to top it off, he had cast off that identity seemingly a long time ago. He knew not how to approach him about anything anymore…

Exhausted, Vernash lay back down on the mattress and covered himself again. He was chilled from his short time outside, and was starting to sweat again. He just couldn't stop shaking.

The man came back into the room. He carried a bowl in his hands. Going over to him, Clyde was actually smiling. He spoke in a calm and deep voice. "It's been a long while since I've had a visitor. Sometimes, I thought, I would live out the rest of my days in solitude."

Vernash took the offered bowl. It was very hot, and steam rose from the milky mixture. "What… is this?"

"Porridge," he replied as he went to the fireplace. "It's my recipe. Made with roots and healing herbs. I hope it will help you fight the effects of your water fever."

He thanked him. He realized how hungry he was and gingerly spooned the meal into his mouth. It tasted very good.

"Where… are we?" Vernash asked after awhile.

By that time, Clyde had stoked a small fire and it now cast renewed warmth into the room. The smoke from it rose up into the rocks, most likely being dispersed into the cracks and cervices within the mountain. "Somewhere on the southern continent… As far away from civilization as I could get…"

He nodded. "I… think I can understand…"

Clyde looked at him curiously. "And what of you, old friend? How did you come to be here?"

He shook his head. "I cannot say… I was thrown from our ship. I do not what happened to the others."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Are you… still with the organization?"

After a hesitation, Vernash said, "No."

Clyde said not another word. He sat near the fireplace with his legs crossed. "It is really good to see you again."

Finished with his porridge, Vernash put it aside and said, "You as well…"

"Though I can't stop thinking that us meeting together again can't be just coincidence."

Vernash had to say something… "Actually, Relm and I have been traveling for a few years now. She wanted to find you…"

Clyde was stunned into silence. His eyes were wide, staring far away.

Vernash tried to explain. "Strago passed away a few months ago. In a personal letter to Relm, he revealed your secret… About how her father was Shadow." After a few seconds, he added, "…I'm sorry."

Clyde rose suddenly. With stiff legs, he headed to the doorway. Pausing there, he told Vernash over his shoulder, "I must ponder this… Rest some more. Don't worry, this is a peaceful place. Take all the time you need…" With that, he left him alone again.

_____________

After another nap, Vernash felt stronger. He was no longer sweating. Testing himself, he saw that he could move about without shaking. After dressing in his clothes, he headed outside again to take care of his business.

Going back to the cave, Vernash saw Clyde a short distance away. He was gazing over a bluff, staring toward the dwindling sun.

He approached cautiously. Not wanting to startle him, he said, "This place is peaceful. You could almost say that time hasn't touched this place since the beginning of the world…"

Clyde turned to him and nodded knowingly. "I love it here."

Vernash thought that there was no longer any doubt. This was his old friend who once called himself a Shadow. His love of nature, especially the mountains, was a secret of his heart that he had shared with him once a long time ago. But his very identity he had discarded so long ago. The organization had helped him become a ninja, gave him the training to become a deadly assassin. He didn't know the details of Clyde's life, only that he had once fought by his side as Shadow and called him his friend.

Not only that, but his physical details could not be mistaken. A horrible scar nearly covered the left side of his face. While his left eye and ear were spared, the skin from it was gnarled from the top of his forehead down to the jaw. Shadow had shone him his true face once, and now it looked back at him almost exactly as he remembered it, only aged. Other than that, almost nothing was recognizable as he looked like a completely different person from when he wore his black uniform. Clyde wore simple clothes now, a white tunic and breeches. The only accessories besides black shoes were a black sash and plain golden ring on his finger. He sported a very small amount of brown hair, which was closely cropped.

"What… has become of you, Clyde?"

He returned his question with a shrug, as if it didn't matter. He returned to looking out across the cliff. Vernash joined him.

"When I was a shadow, all I knew how to do is fight. It was my only pleasure in that life. You knew that I had killed my emotions…" He nodded, but didn't interrupt. This was his story. "Anyway, after the world was undone, I sought the pinnacle of my skill with the blade. That led me to Celes and the others by accident. In particular, I once fought a man who was at the pinnacle of his."

Clyde sighed, recalling his battle. "Sabin and I… put our fighting prowess to the ultimate test against each other. His master gave him a powerful sword, and I thought I could claim it in combat. I remember that night… a fierce thunderstorm. It felt almost as if nature itself agreed to our fight. So many emotions coursed through us, and yet… We could barely harm each other. In frustration, we escalated the sparring match into deadly force. So many strikes and parries at once… it became a blur. My knives against his claws. My throwing weapons against his monk technique. Those hours we fought seemed like minutes. We did not know how it ended, only that it ended very abruptly. We found ourselves on the ground. Both of us were on our backs, and yet I managed to stay my ninja sword mere inches from his head, and his palms were inches from my face. With but a flick I could have ended his life, and yet he could have done the same to me. His chi was focused in his wrists, and he could have loosed a holy blast that would have taken my head. We both knew the duel was over, and yet lightening and rain assaulted from all around.

"Our skill was at its best. We both knew that our ultimate contest was against each other then… But really, it was ourselves we battled against that night. It was over then and there. Upon learning I could not use the Esper sword, I relented it to him."

Vernash could understand what he was getting at. Having achieved the best that he could… no, possibly the best that a human could achieve, what else could he do? "And then what happened?" he asked quietly.

Clyde shrugged. "After Kefka's defeat, I stopped running. No… that's not correct. I freed myself from that life. I buried the person known as 'Shadow' in the mind's grave along with my bandit partner called Baram. For both of them, there wasn't anything left to do. They earned their peace… and I began all over again."

"And after that?"

He turned to him with a smile. "A tale for after supper."

The burning orange sun had gone below the ridge line. The sky was a delicate shade of blue in the twilight. They headed inside.

___________

They both ate animal meat and more porridge for dinner that night. It was a modest meal, designed more for nutrition than pleasure. Vernash's discomfort with Clyde he could not shake. This was the man who once was among the most expert of killers he had ever seen. Yet now… he lived as a hermit. This man existed under the most bare of luxuries, owning almost no possessions, and to top it all off, he lived in a cave. He was more than anxious to learn about what had happened to him as Shadow to make him choose another identity.

After the meal, they settled down and made themselves more comfortable. Surprisingly, Clyde bade him to tell him about himself after they parted company all those years ago. Vernash mulled it over, and conceded.

After seeing each other last in the organization so many years ago, Vernash stayed a number of years. After its refusal to do anything after the "Ruin" of the world, Vernash severed ties. He had first met Relm at the Fanatic's Tower; they did not see each other again for several years. He saw her again a couple years ago living poor on the rough streets of Jidoor. At the time, he knew not that she was his daughter-only recently, while in Thamasa. He described her state in Jidoor to be destitute. He couldn't allow her to remain like that, as he remembered her fierce spirit from when he last met her. After Jidoor, they decided to partner up and travel together. He showed her the mercenary way of life, and how to make a living outside of the city.

Vernash's tale grew darker with recent events. After Strago's letter, Relm decided she wanted to find Clyde. At nearly the same time, however, what could only be described as a mysterious floating tower appeared in the skies. He knew not what it was; only that Relm felt there was magic radiating from it-the same kind of psychic force that disappeared more than a decade ago. They tried to find out something about it in Figaro, then Narshe. They were even captured by the country of Gastra, as the emperor had somehow heard of the Eye of Zomalla, and were kidnapping people in Nikeah for information. They escaped, and eventually, their journey took them to Pioneer town on the Veldt. They were going back to Figaro when they were attacked by pirates. There was a fierce thunderstorm, and Vernash was thrown overboard. And here he was…

There were many thoughts running through Vernash's mind. What Clyde thought of all it that, as well as how to broach the subject about the eye to him. At the end of it, Clyde mulled it over for a few minutes. Eventually, the only thing he really said was, "Was… Interceptor with Relm?"

Taken by surprise, he asked, "Your… dog?"

Clyde nodded, his eyes far away.

"As… far as I know, I don't know. Why isn't your dog with you?"

He shook his head and shrugged. "It does not matter…" After saying that, Clyde slowly began to tell him about what had happened to him after they parted last.

After becoming a sword for hire, Shadow had worked for the Empire, but that venture had turned sour after his employers had tried to kill him. After the ruin of the world by the cataclysm, he chanced upon the martial artist Sabin, and that was how he allied himself with Figaro to bring about Kefka's demise. Afterward, he vowed to be a shadow no more.

He started a new life. Or so he thought. To find his place in the new world, Clyde assumed a new identity, a red cloaked individual with a horrible scar. A year afterward, he chanced upon a woman he once knew as Shadow, named Terra. She and a man named Cyan were secretly being pursued by one of the Hekate. To bury another ghost from his past, he helped them find out why.

One of the Hekate, Turbashum, wanted Terra because of her heritage. He wanted to conduct experiments on her to draw forth her magic powers again. He was convinced there was a way to do this with the "Eye". This was the first Clyde had heard of magic other than the magic of the Goddesses. He thought that all of it had come from them, but he was wrong. That was how they had been able to retain their powers, by this other magic source. He… did something to Terra. Even though they were able to stop him, the damage had been done. Terra was never the same after that encounter.

After that battle, Clyde took the eye from Turbashum so he could never use it again. Fearing for the safety of the others, Clyde left them, even though he felt strongly for her. Years later, he found out that Terra and Cyan had started a life together with the children of Mobliz. They could not rebuild the town, so they relocated to Doma castle, which had lain abandoned since the extinction of his people. He was happy for her, as Cyan gave her what he could not.

Clyde's new life under a different identity did not give him happiness. His scarred face was all strangers could see of him. He realized that he would never achieve true enlightenment as he was then. Withdrawing from the world, he just… ended up as he was now, in seclusion. Now, he was content to live his life away from people who would only think of their own ends. His time as the ninja assassin was long gone. He supposed now that he was more of a monk than what he had ever been before.

After Clyde had told him his tale, Vernash was amazed by what life had given his old friend, as well as his choices from those situations. After hearing all of that, he was surprised that Clyde hadn't forsaken the world altogether. And to go against the organization in such a manner… No wonder the Hekate pursued him. After a long while of thought, Vernash remarked, "This is bad…"

Clyde's expression shifted from memory to curiosity.

"The… Hekate," Vernash said. "Even though we both left the organization, it seems as though they may have already played their hand against you."

"What do you mean?"

"Even though their policy has always been noninterference… Even though the Eye of Zomalla had always let them see into the future… Only now may they be utilizing their other resources."

"In what way?" Clyde asked. "They will never find it…"

"But… what if they're using the Gastrans as a means to find you? What if by them sending the Edictbringers after us, they're trying to get to you?"

"I'm not… familiar with the Edictbringers…"

Vernash scoffed. "They were formed by Vishnu after you left. They are the Hekate's private mercenaries. Very secretive… and deadly. The point is, we were attacked by them in Free Town Pioneer. We barely escaped them.

Clyde thought it over. "…Go on."

"I'm thinking that… Relm might be in more danger than I thought. What if they're trying to get to you through her?" Vernash sighed. "Dammit, this is all because of that relic…"

"But what are you suggesting? That we fight against the entire organization for the sake of one person? Nothing like that has ever been done before." Clyde's shoulders slumped. "I am only one man…"

Vernash stared hard into the fire. "I can't… sit around and do nothing while my friend is in danger. I will help her alone if I must."

Clyde sighed incredulously. "They eye is safe… They'll never find it. I made sure of that."

"But what if it isn't? We had all thought magic to be gone from the world. But they and the Gastrans now have control over a different kind. We're talking about the group that saw the future of Gestahl with the Eye of Zomalla, who in turn supported his rise to power all those years ago. And what did he do with it? He founded the Empire, which inadvertently created the likes of Kefka. They did nothing about the Cataclysm for some kind of secret reason. That is something I will never forgive them for. And you know that they will stop at nothing once something significant catches their attention. Trust me Clyde, you must be so high up on their list of priorities that they might be willing to manipulate the Gastran country to find you."

Startled, Clyde asked, "How do you know all this?"

Vernash shook his head. "Please ask me no more… I have never questioned any of your reasons for doing anything."

Clyde appeared deeply troubled. "I have to… think this over. I will see you tomorrow."

Saying not another word, Clyde left the main cavern and retreated to his room. Watching him go, Vernash wondered if he had just made a mistake. In the past, mistakes regarding Clyde Arrowny were often followed by a fatal knife wound in the back.

____________

Is he fit to fight? That question kept repeating itself through Vernash's mind throughout the next day. Will an older and slower Clyde be able to still do battle?

It was near dusk. That morning, Clyde had suggested that they spar together today. In fact, he had insisted upon it. Vernash just didn't understand what he was trying to do. Who did he have to prove himself to?

They stood on a raised plateau overlooking a valley. Both stood a hundred meters apart, each measuring each other up. "Are you ready?" Clyde asked.

Vernash carried a wooden sword, while Clyde held two wooden daggers half an arms length long. He nodded in response to him.

Clyde started suddenly, sprinting toward him. He closed the distance in less than a moment. Vernash let him come to him, tense and ready.

He was upon him, instantly striking for him with such speed that Vernash was still caught unawares. Clyde's moves were so incredibly fast. A vertical slash with one arm, side stab with the other, and a return slash all in an instant. It was all that he could do to keep his sword up in defense of his rapid hits.

Throughout the initial contact, Vernash noticed that Clyde's fierce offensive was not rushed, nor did he put force behind his blows. He thought that maybe he was testing how fast he was. Then it occurred to him that perhaps that was just how fast he was. That prospect made his heart beat all the faster. However, this came as a fleeting thought, as Clyde came at him with two separate moves at once.

Clyde ducked in range of Vernash's weapon with daggers out to the side. Vernash recognized the fake and did not buy. He brought both weapons in anyway, two horizontal slashes so fast that that Vernash almost didn't have enough time to get his sword in position to block. As expected, they made contact with a loud chop, and Clyde changed his momentum, pushing forward. That made Vernash nearly lose his balance, which could've been a deadly mistake. Fortunately, he recovered his feet in time. Clyde did not reengage.

"Fight me," he threatened.

Vernash shook his head. "You do not have to prove anything to me…"

"This isn't about you!" he snarled.

He came at him again with renewed vigor. Again, Vernash went on the defensive. As the weapons hit each other repeatedly, Vernash tried to make sense of his anger. If not to prove himself, then what? He just didn't understand his motivations. Concentrating on the task at hand, Vernash fell into a battle rhythm, trying to block and parry Clyde's incredibly fast swings.

The minutes passed. Wood chips flew off their weapons. Vernash noted that eventually, Clyde's momentum slowed somewhat. He wondered why. Was he trying to bait him? An expert at combat like Clyde most likely would have already ended the confrontation. Again, what was he trying to do?

This art of swordplay was almost like a game of strategy. Vernash realized this eventually, and decided it was time to turn the tables on his opponent. He summoned the last bit of magic stored in his body.

The force within him was brought forth, and his sword arm sparked with lightening. This split second distraction gave Vernash the opening he needed to move forward upon him with his weapon. As the magic burst forth into the wood, he shifted his positioning and knocked both daggers away. Almost instantly, he brought his sword in, striking Clyde across the lower abdomen. The magic hit him as well, sending ripples of electricity into his body.

Clyde backed away, wincing, to which Vernash followed through. His pursuit of him had Clyde on the defensive, working his daggers fervently to keep him back. He did manage to break away, panting and clutching his side.

"You… cheated…" Clyde gasped.

He retorted, "And you think the Hekate will fight fair!? I was nearly skewered by a pike through my back the other week!"

Growling, Vernash came on stronger. Determined to win this fight, he gave him no quarter. Though already slowed by the numbing effects of the hit, Clyde's expert technique still kept Vernash from making much progress. Each swing was countered and parried by them both. Clyde must have known that another hit with the electrified sword would have done him in.

Try as they might, neither of them could find an opening. The sound of wood chopping together resounded in their ears, blocking out any other sound. For long minutes, they could only hear the clashing of weapons continuously hitting each other.

The minutes passed by in the blink of an eye. Their contest escalated, becoming fiercer. The twilight of the night came, and still they did not slow.

Hours later, they both lay on their backs exhausted upon the grass. The clear black sky filled with tiny points of light shown upon them. Neither moved.

"Clyde… why…?"

He shook his head. "Too long… I have not fought for many years now. I was living a peaceful life. Now, I may have to kill again…"

He didn't respond for several moments. Eventually, he said, "Relm does not have time for your personal demons, my friend. She needs your help."

"Not… only that…" He sighed. "Will she… understand what I did? How could she forgive me for what I did? I knew who she was when I was the assassin. But I did nothing. I could not say anything. I was paralyzed. Even at Strago's funeral…"

Vernash wondered how he did not find him back then. Shrugging, he said softly, "You won't know until you try… She's a good person… the best."

They did not say anything after that. The hours passed, and they slept under the stars.

__________________

At dawn the next morning, Vernash awoke to all of his gear dropping beside him.

He started, and tried to get up into a sitting position. "Huh, what?"

Clyde stood over him. "It is time to go," he said with a slight smile.

He looked up at him and yawned. "Go where?"

"We're leaving," he stated.

Vernash stretched and rose to his feet. He saw that Clyde was already prepared for travel. A tan vest and loose black breeches covered him, and he wore tough animal hide shoes. In his hip sash, two short swords hung from a holster. He was already wearing his pack on his back.

He put on his chain shirt and found his weapons in his inventory. Everything else seemed to be accounted for. He guessed, "To Figaro?"

Clyde shook his head. "No. I have another destination in mind."

Lifting his gear, Vernash asked, "Where then?"

"I have somewhere else in mind," he said cryptically. Seeing his baffled expression, Clyde added, "I hid the eye in the Werewolves' village."

"Werewolf village!? That place doesn't exist!"

Clyde grinned humorously. "When we were both young, we said the same thing about the Esper world."

Vernash mulled it over. What sort of thing was he hinting at? As far as he understood, a werewolf was an anomaly of nature. To see one was a one in a million chance. But a whole village? He had never heard of any such notion before.

His new traveling companion was already walking away. He sprinted away to him, asking what exactly he meant by a werewolf village.

For both of them, the new day was looking to be interesting indeed.

__________

Author's Note: Hope you've enjoyed this break from the action to focus more on background and character interaction. There are a lot of explanations this time, as I feel we are pretty much halfway through. Please tell me if my version of Shadow is believable or not. The Eye of Zomalla is an idea I got from Final Fantasy Tactics. What exactly it does will be explained in future chapters. The inspiration for Shadow and Sabin's fight came from a wonderful piece fanart on cavesofnarshe dot com. The artist's name is Archangel. Shadow's story after the end of the game takes place in a story I haven't written yet, called Faces of the Heart. Also, if you remember the Glossary, it has been taken down for the time being. It needs updates and revisions. Next, we focus on Relm's part and what happens to the group.