Confession

Based on the videogame Final Fantasy III/VI

With a sigh that she kept from becoming a cough only by force of will, Elisa turned her head away from the window and looked over at her grandson seated in the chair next to her bed. Ever since she had taken ill, he'd rarely strayed from her side. She smiled to see that he was reading again; someday he'd make a fine teacher at the classroom in Narshe.

She hesitated to disturb him, but it couldn't be put off any longer. "Olen," she said, startling him. Apparently he had thought her asleep. "Olen, I need you to get me a pen and paper. There's something important I need to write down if...if I go."

"You're not going to die, Grandma." Despite his words, she could see he was afraid and trying hard not to show it. "I won't let you." She smiled and patted him on the hand. Brave boy.

Just as Olen stood to go, a tall, dark-haired man came in with a handful of primroses. "Are you bothering your grandmother again?" Olen's father asked as he switched out the faded flowers in the vase on the table for the fresh ones.

Olen seemed about to protest, but Elisa motioned him to go and he darted off in search of pen and paper. "Thank you..." She felt another cough coming on and this time was unable to stop it. "...for the flowers."

Glen frowned. "You should be resting, Mom. You need your strength to get better."

Elisa opened her mouth to say something, but just then Olen returned. Gingerly he laid the asked for items in her lap. "Thank you. Now, I need some time alone to collect my thoughts."

Olen looked reluctant, but his father placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go. Promise me you won't tire yourself." His last words were directed to her.

She smiled and nodded, watching them go. As soon as they had, she picked up the pen and after a moment's hesitation, began to write.

" It's been seventeen years, but I still remember it as vividly as if it happened this morning. It was a hot and dry day, but that wasn't unusual being that Figaro castle stands in the middle of the desert. Thankfully, the castle interior was always kept blissfully cool by an ingenious air filtering system invented by the king's late father Artur Renault Figaro.

As soon as we rolled out of bed that morning, the head chambermaid, who we called Headmistress, gathered us all together in the kitchen. We knew better than to dawdle. If we did, she might let the transgression slip in front of the queen, and the disappointment in that gentle woman's eyes was somehow worse than the most painful of switchings.

Instead of the usual division of chores however, this morning was different. Behind Headmistress was a new girl. Headmistress introduced her as "Ana Chere" and asked that we all do our best to make her feel welcome and help her find her way around the castle.

As far back as I can remember, the women in my family have been chambermaids for the Figaro family. It's a position at least as hereditary as the monarchy itself. So when the new king Barthis Rudi Figaro took the throne and decreed that only young, beautiful girls would be recruited as chambermaids, I was kept on without a word while several of my closest friends were forced to find other positions. I mention this because though I was edging closer to 40 than 25 at the time, I was still reasonably attractive, but next to those other girls I was as plain as a white linen sheet. For all their beauty however, none of them could hold a candle to Ana Chere. She could've been a doll, the delicate work of a master sculpting in porcelain; she was too perfect to be believed. Her skin was flawless cream, her lips the color of ripe cherries, her hair exactly like spun gold.

While Headmistress spoke, the other girls stared and whispered behind their hands, sensing their inferiority. I could almost hear their hearts hardening around me. And all the while Ana stood, head down, hands folded demurely in front of her, completely oblivious of their scorn.

"Elisa."

"Yes Headmistress?" I realized she must have been trying to get my attention for several minutes by the pinched look around her mouth.

"Elisa, you will be the one to show Ana how things are done around here."

All I could do was stutter out a "Yes ma'am." As they separated to their chores, the other chambermaids shot me hateful looks. With that one simple order, any ties I'd had with my companions had been cleanly severed. I was now a traitor.

Ana Chere fixed me with a pair of deep blue eyes and smiled. "I'm glad to meet you. I hope we can become good friends," she said. "

Elisa laid her pen down, succumbing to another coughing fit. She rolled onto her side, pressing her face into the pillow to try to muffle the sounds. Nevertheless, her son and grandson came running.

"Mom?" Suddenly Glen was there and next to him Olen, his eyes so wide they looked like they would fall out of their sockets. Glen tapped his son on the shoulder. "Go get the doctor. Hurry!"

The boy obeyed, running out of the room.

"I'm...all right," Elisa managed to choke out once the fit was over. She sucked in a big gulp of air. "I don't need the doctor. You and I both know he can't do anything for me."

"Potions..."

Elisa interrupted him. "If it's my time to go, it's my time to go, Glen. I don't want to be indebted to some tonic I have to keep taking every few hours to keep me alive. Now leave me be. I'll call for you if I need you."

Glen scowled, but obeyed.

" Although we never did end up sharing personal stories or gossip like good friends tend to do, Ana and I got along well together. This was helped immensely by the fact that she seemed to be a hard and tireless worker, often staying at the job much longer than the rest of us and still managing to get up before everyone. She was a favorite with Headmistress and although they were still jealous, she had even managed to earn a grudging respect from the rest of the chambermaids. Everyone seemed to think highly of her and it wasn't long before I noticed that there was one another person who had his eye on her.

One day as I had just finished mopping the throne room, I happened to come upon Ana and the king talking in low voices on the stairs. His majesty was holding her hand and was leaning over her as if about to kiss her. It was at that moment that I lost my grip on my bucket, slopping soapy water all down the steps.

I'm sure he knew I had witnessed their tryst, but His majesty pretended nothing was amiss, instead scolding me good-naturedly about my clumsiness while Ana immediately began to help me clean up. Once His majesty had left, I confronted her.

"What are you doing?" I hissed. "He's the king! He's too far above your station for you to even think of having a relationship with him, not to mention he's already got a queen and two little boys!"

Ana didn't answer me. She wouldn't even meet my eyes. I'm not sure if it was shame or not. I'm not even sure she was capable of feeling shame. Once the stairs were dry, we left each other for chores on different ends of the castle.

We didn't speak again for three months. "

"Mom, Doctor Torson is here."

Elisa laid her pen down and turned to the door where Glen and a fat, balding man were standing. "Yes, I can see that."

"Good afternoon, Missus Strazzo. Your son says your cough has been worse today?"

Elisa sighed then clenched her fists under her blankets to keep from coughing in front of the doctor. She would never be left alone if he heard that. "No worse than yesterday. Go ahead and leave your medicine and I'll drink it down in a little while. She waved her hand dismissively and picked her pen back up. "Please leave. I have something important to finish." She started writing again, not even noticing when they left the room.

"I'm pregnant."

I knew I should've expected it, but the news still came as a shock. I lowered my voice though it was so loud in the kitchen with the crashing of pans and the chatter that probably no one would've heard us anyway. I avoided the obvious question since I already knew who the father was. So instead I asked, "How far along are you?"

"2 or 3 months I think."

Looking at her and judging from my own experience with my son, I gathered she was probably right. "Okay, what you're going to need to do is head for South Figaro. There's a man there who specializes in these sorts of things."

She frowned at me and it was then that I began to realize she didn't have the scared, desperate look I had come to associate with unwanted pregnancies. "You aren't keeping it are you?" I demanded.

For the first time since she'd arrived, I saw actual anger on Ana's face. "Of course I am!"

I shook my head. "Then why did you tell me this? What do you expect me to do?"

"I don't know, maybe be happy for me? You're my friend, aren't you?"

Her words rang through my head for weeks and it became difficult to sleep at night. I had made a serious miscalculation. Although in my eyes, Ana was at best an acquaintance, she clearly saw me as her best friend. And she had come to me as her friend with an important piece of news expecting me to celebrate with her.

All I could think about however was what would happen when her pregnancy began to show. There would be questions, comments, rumors. If I could catch them in a stairwell, someone else might too and if they put the pieces together... Worst of all was the thought of the queen or the twin boys finding out about the indiscretion. The Figaro family was as much or more my family than my own family back at home in Maranda. I couldn't see it be destroyed.

One night three weeks after she had delivered the news, I waited until everyone was asleep then crept to Ana's bed. She stirred immediately making me believe she hadn't been sleeping.

"Ana," I whispered close to her ear, "you have to leave. The queen is starting to get suspicious."

She propped herself up on one elbow and whispered back into my ear. "It doesn't matter. We love each other and that's all that matters."

I frowned. This wasn't going to work, so I came up with the deepest, darkest lie I have ever told. "Ana, if you don't leave, the queen will find out. People are already talking about how much of a favorite you are with the king. She's a very jealous woman. I've seen other chambermaids hauled off to...off to the doctor because she suspected their babies of belonging to the king." I dropped the hand that had been cupped to her ear and leaned back to see the effect my words had upon her.

At first by the determined expression on her face I feared she would repeat that it didn't matter, that the king would protect her, but then she bit her lip, her indecision clear in the dim light from the electric torch on the wall outside the room. It seemed that maybe her faith in the "rightness" of her relationship with His majesty might have been shaken a little. "I won't let her take the baby."

I nodded. "No, of course not. That's why you need to leave. You have to take the baby and go far away where Her majesty can't find you." I started in again before she could think to dispute what I was saying. "I'll cover for you tomorrow. Pretend you're sick, heat stroke or something, and Headmistress will let you stay in the room. While everyone's out, you can pack and slip out. No one will bother with stopping a chambermaid visiting her family."

I held my breath while Ana teetered on the brink of a decision. When she finally nodded, I let out a long sigh of relief. To cover it, I patted her on the hand and smiled. "Don't worry, you and the baby will be fine."

Elisa didn't even have a chance to drop her pen before she began coughing again. It took all the breath out of her body so that she was left gasping. In the midst of it, she reached a hand up to her mouth and her fingertips came away wet with blood.

She didn't even register when Glen, Olen and Doctor Torson rushed in, the latter with a glass decanter clutched in his fist full of a vibrant green liquid.

" After Ana left, things mainly returned to normal. If His majesty worried about where she had gone, he was good at hiding it. Several times in the week after her disappearance it seemed he wanted to speak to me, perhaps to ask if I knew, but I made sure to never be alone with him and soon he was back to seeking out the company of younger, prettier chambermaids.

There were rumblings on the horizon that General Gestahl in Vector was styling himself an Emperor and was massing troops to conquer the southern continent, but that was a faraway concern for a chambermaid. The kingdom of Figaro was prosperous and its royal family intact. That was all that mattered to me.

But just 5 years later the king was struck down in the prime of life by a mysterious illness. There were whispers that it wasn't a natural illness, that Gestahl had become irritated by his former ally and poisoned him. I'm not one for politics, but judging by what happened later, I can believe the Empire was behind His majesty's death. Shortly after that, the younger of the twin princes, Sabin Roni Figaro, abdicated the throne and left Figaro forever. Before my very eyes what I had been worried about the most, what I had hoped to prevent, had happened. The royal family was splintering. What then was the point of what I had done? Did I ruin two people's lives for nothing?

I decided then that I could no longer continue in my previous position at the castle and so returned home to Maranda to live out a quiet life with my husband and son who I had only seen occasionally in the past 15 or so years.

"She should be all right for now."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Elisa opened her eyes, blinking them a couple of times to get them to focus. There was a peculiar minty taste in the back of her throat. "I told you I didn't want any of your potions. Let me die in peace."

"You think I'd watch my own mother drown in her own blood like that and not do something about it? You must think I'm a heartless monster."

Elisa looked around the room, searching for Olen. When she didn't see him, she relaxed. He must be walking Doctor Torson out. She was glad; she didn't want him hearing any of this morbid talk. "I don't think you're a heartless monster, Glen." She searched the bed visually for her pen and paper, but didn't see it.

"Are you looking for these?" he asked, holding up a sheaf of papers.

She sat up. "You haven't read them have you?"

Glen shook his head. "Of course not. I don't go through people's things without permission. You taught me that much at least."

Satisfied that he was telling the truth, Elisa sank back against the pillows. "Please, Glen. I'm almost done. Once I'm finished, I promise you I'll rest, but I have to finish."

He hesitated, then walked over to her and deposited the papers on the bed along with the pen. "All right, but hurry up or I'll call back the doctor and get him to help me force feed you a sleeping potion."

" Blood. Screams. Chaos. It's amazing how choked up I get about it even though it's been over a year. My hands are shaking even now as I write this. Maranda is no more and I can't help but think I played a part in that. All those people's lives are partly on my head.

I don't really think anyone expected the Empire to go in, slaughter the ruling family and raze the city. There was no warning. We were all lulled into believing that Gestahl would take Tzen and Mobliz which he had been crying out for for some time and be appeased.

The morning of the attack I was hanging out laundry to dry. My husband had just recently died, so I had decided to take in some of the neighbors' laundry to supplement the small income from my son and his wife's item shop.

Just as I was in the middle of pinning a shirt to the line, everything began to shake. At first I thought it was an earthquake, but then a bright light flashed down the street and a building exploded sending rubble flying. People began screaming and running in all directions away from the light. Then the source of the light came into view. It was a huge metal contraption walking on two legs like a person and there looked to be someone inside it.

I couldn't move. I couldn't make my legs work.

"The Empire!" someone screamed as they ran past me. "The Empire has sent the Ice Witch General Celes!"

I don't think I really understood what was happening until I heard that. One of the metal monstrosities was heading straight for me, but still I couldn't move. I'm sure I would've died right then and there if I hadn't heard Olen crying, Olen who had been playing peacefully in the backyard, but was now attached to my leg, his nails biting painfully into my flesh. He was shivering and his face was covered with dirt.

My legs abruptly thawed out. He was getting too big for me to pick up and carry, but with a strength I didn't know I had, I scooped him up in my arms and began to run. My only thought was that Glen and Hanah were at the store.

The house exploded into flame behind me. I could feel the heat licking up my back, but I didn't dare turn around. I didn't dare stop. Olen had gone completely silent in my arms, his face pressed against my chest, but I couldn't worry about that just then. I ducked behind what was left of the weapon's shop to wait as a group of brown clad soldiers trotted by. I was about to leave my hiding spot when I saw her standing in the middle of the street, her hands resting lightly on the hilt of her sword, watching everything around her with no expression at all.

"Ana?" But no, that was impossible. Ana would be in her 30's by now and this girl looked to be only about 16. She looked exactly like her though. Same hair, same face. And I knew for a certainty that this was the Ice Witch General Celes and that she was Ana's daughter.

The rest was a blur. Glen found us somehow. I vaguely remember him weeping and bleeding with Hanah dangling limply over his shoulder. She didn't make it, the Goddesses rest her soul.

What happened to Ana? I never knew and probably will never know, but I'm convinced that something must have happened to her. I will never believe she would allow her daughter to join the Empire to fight against us. Never. And so that leads to my own guilt. If I hadn't lied, if I hadn't forced her to leave the castle, I'm sure Ana would've had a home at Figaro. The queen would've welcomed her and in time the people would've come to accept her, I'm sure of it. And so instead of keeping the royal family together, I'm afraid I only helped split it apart.

Elisa lay back in bed, exhausted. The minty taste had just about faded in the back of her throat signaling that the potion was wearing off. She looked down at her hastily scrawled confession and frowned. Now that she had committed it all to paper, she felt she should feel more at ease, but instead she somehow found herself less.

"Grandma?"

She looked up to see Olen in the doorway. He looked wary, as if he was readying himself to make another dash for the doctor. "Olen, bring me a candle please."

He took a step into the room. "Do you need me to open the curtains? I can make it brighter in here if you want."

"No, no. A candle please, Olen. And don't let your father see you."

He nodded and finally left. She closed her eyes, clutching the papers close. She should never have written it down. How foolish of her, and dangerous. She didn't know much about politics, but she did know that if it was revealed that General Celes was the daughter of the king of Figaro, Gestahl could use her to overthrow the monarchy and set her up as a puppet queen. It was too late to undo what she had done. It was too late for reconciliation.

Olen returned with the candle, which he held out to her.

"Light it for me please, will you Olen? My hands are shaking so badly and I don't want to drop it."

Obediently, Olen lit the candle then held it out to her. He watched in surprise as she began feeding her confession to the flame, one page at a time. After the fourth page had turned to ash, her strength failed her. He just caught the candle before it toppled from her hand.

"Grandma!"

She couldn't lift her hand to motion for him to continue. "Go on! You have to finish it for me. I'll be all right in a minute. I just need to rest."

Olen bit his lip. Grabbing up the rest of the papers, he bent to the task. When the final page fell black and curling to the floor, he blew out the candle and set it on the table by her bed. "It's done, Grandma."

Elisa's eyes were closed and the tightness had eased from her brow and around the corners of her mouth. Just by looking at her, he could tell she was gone.