Life Is But A Dream

Row, row, row your boat

Gently down the stream

Merrily, merrily, merrily,

Merrily…

Life is but a dream

~*~

            "Honey, be sure to finish weeding the garden while we're gone."

            "I will."

            "I know, but do it soon; it could rain tomorrow."

            "Gotcha.  Okay?"

            "Okay.  Oh, and Jalen—take good care of him."

            "Mom, I know already.  I've got everything covered!  Can't you trust me alone for one lousy week?"

            "I'm sorry, Nadia, I do trust you.  Oh, we've gotta go."

            "Have a good trip…"

            "Thanks, honey. You're the best."

            The teen accepted a hug from her mother, who proceeded to scoop up the remaining bag and give the little boy a kiss on the cheek.

            "'Bye…"  Nadia watched Kairi climb into the boat and sit next to her husband, who was busy undoing the knot that tied them to shore.

            "Bye-bye, Mommy!" Jalen squeaked.

            "I'll miss you, baby," Kairi called to her son, blowing another kiss his way.

            Nadia picked up her half-brother and sat him on her hip so his bare feet dangled.

            "Have a fun week, you two," Sora said, readying the oars.

            The boy waved; the girl didn't.

            They watched until the boat had disappeared over the blue horizon, and then Nadia carried Jalen back up the beach to the house.  She set him down.  The child toddled at her side.

            "Big sister," he said, grinning up at her with a freckle-splattered face.  He was wearing green overalls with a light brown shirt underneath.  His pant legs were rolled up to the knees and his bare feet and shins were covered in sticky sand, despite a bath of an hour prior.  Jalen had a round face shadowed by constantly messy brown hair.  His eyes were big and blue, like everyone in the family.  Nadia liked his eyes, since they looked much like her own and Kairi's.  The rest of him, she had the sneaking suspicion, would end up too much like Sora.

            But you couldn't blame a five-year-old for stuff like that.

            "Big sister," Jalen repeated, in case she hadn't heard him.

            "Yes, Jay?"

            He stuck out his presumably dry tongue and pointed at it.  "Thirsty."

            "Let's go have some lemonade then."

            "Okay!"  He ran ahead toward the kitchen.  It was an open place, its outer wall made almost entirely of glass.  There was a nice view of the garden.

            That huge garden Nadia had to finish weeding…

            Pouring the lemonade into two big cups, the girl said, "You and me get to spend the whole entire week together, Jay.  Isn't that great?"

            He was greedily watching the lemonade cascade down from the pitcher into his bright green cup.  "Yeah."

            They sat at the wooden table.  Jalen gulped and spilled a little on himself.  Nadia sipped.  Her eyes rested on the huge flowers approaching fruition, their buds resting on the porch's railing as they began to peak open.  Some of the vegetables were getting big, too.  She'd have to start part of the mid-season harvest.

            It's Sora's garden.  Why does Mom always make me do his work?

            Kairi and Sora were off to visit his parents on another island, the biggest in the chain.  Nadia, two weeks shy of her sixteenth birthday, was watching Jalen and the house.

            And the garden.

            And the dishes and the laundry and the trash and the cleaning and everything else that she had so violently insisted she could take care of and now was sort of regretting taking responsibility for.  Jalen was a handful by himself.  Even now he was crouched on the tile floor inspecting the large puddle of lemonade he had, accidentally or not, created there.

            "Jay!"

            A guilty smile…and the boy was forgiven.

            "Go get a towel, 'kay?"

            "Okay…"

            After lunch, when Jalen was down for his nap in the hammock stretched between the house and a youngish palm next to it, Nadia found herself on her hands and knees in the dirt.  A pile of weeds a foot tall sat behind her, and she added to it by the second.

            Laundry hung drying on the lines between the young palm and an older one down the hill a little, the sheets, shirts, and pants fixed with wooden clothespins.  Scrubbing that laundry in the wash bin with the smelly soap had taken most of the morning.  But she had it in her head to get the big chores done today.

            Nadia's dark, reddish hair was pulled back messily into a ribbon on the top of her head.  Strands fell across her darkened face and were glued there with sweat and dirt.  She was wearing an old tank top of yellow that probably was a bit too small but could afford to get dirty (besides, her mother wasn't around to complain).  Her feet were bare at the moment; that's how she liked them.

            She lifted her head for a moment to see if Jalen was okay.  He was sleeping peacefully.  Crawling back under the impossibly large leaves, she resumed her toil.

            Damn, this garden is gonna be perfect for Sora.  Then he can't bother me about anything.

            It wasn't that the man made a habit of criticizing Nadia.  It was just that the idea of him ever trying it was enough to make the girl shudder with anger.  She was worried if he ever went after her for something she'd just explode and make her mother and brother upset.  Maybe she worried a bit more about her brother…

            Whatever.

            Later, when night had come and she was washed, she would sit by her open bedroom window above the sea.  The cool breeze would blow through, and she could close her eyes and remember much happier times.  But, right now, Nadia was sweaty and dirty and really couldn't take any more stress than that which she was putting on herself.

            It was then that she heard a 'whoosh' behind her.  She looked back, startled, to find an arrow plunged deep into the ground next to the weed pile.

            Nadia's eyes grew wide.  She thought of Jalen, and leapt up.  In her haste, she forgot about the vines barricading the most direct route to her brother.  Her ankles caused her to remember as they were caught in the middle of the web, and Nadia spun and swayed and fought, cursing the vines.

            Suddenly, a pair of arms was around her.  She wasn't very pleased about it.

            "Who the heck are you?" she growled, pushing herself away from the stranger who had come to her 'rescue.'  "Why are you here?"

            She eyed the man, who seemed slightly taken off guard by her anger.  He was young, with long blond hair down his back, some of which was loosely restrained by blue ties.  He was wearing a long-sleeved navy blue shirt rolled up to the elbows, and khaki trousers.  For being on an island, he seemed very pale and very clean, save a few muddy smudges on his arms where he had intercepted Nadia.

            And suddenly, in those almost white pants of his, the boy got down on one knee—in the mud and the dirt and the sand and everything.  He had one arm up across his chest and his head was bowed.

            "I came to see that no harm came to you, my lady, for one of my arrows took off too soon when I was testing this," he said, gesturing to an enormous bow-like thing with a lot of metal on it.  Nadia wondered why she had failed to notice it before.

            "What is that?"

            "An automatic crossbow.  I made it myself," he said, standing.  He seemed proud, too.

            "You could have killed somebody!  What if you hit my brother?"  Nadia waved her arm to the left, to the hammock where Jalen slept, blissfully unaware.

            "Forgive me.  I meant no harm."

            "Yeah, well, if anything had happened to either of us, you'd be in the ocean by now," Nadia mumbled dismissively, crouching down to return to her work.

            What a weirdo…

            "Why are you in the mud on a beautiful day like today?"

            "I've seen a lot nicer days than this."

            "Well, pardon me, but I am new to this island and I require a guide…"

            She waved her hand toward the village, still using the other to pull at stubborn weeds.

            "You can't show me the sights?"

            "There aren't any."

            "Oh, I'm sure there are some…"

            "Go find someone else to guide you around."

            "All those adults are busy, and the children are far too young.  You, on the other hand—"

            "Good grief!  I'm not even sixteen!"

            "What a coincidence!  I'm not even eighteen."

            She shuddered.  She didn't like where this was going.

            "Get out of here, lecher," Nadia snarled, throwing a huge pile of dirt, roots, and leaves his way.  He was standing in front the weed pile, after all…

            The boy gave a cry and leapt to the side.

            "Perhaps I will find you later, when you are in a more…receptive mood," he told her, bowing as he made a hasty departure.

            "Perhaps not," Nadia told herself, relieved to finally be alone again.

            Around twilight, Nadia emerged from the public baths with soft, clean skin and hair hanging in dark, wet tendrils down her back and bare shoulders.  She had her used towel and soaps in a wooden bucket, which she carried on her hip as she walked through the village toward a more deserted part of the island.

            Selphie was watching Jalen tonight, a request the older woman had made herself upon seeing the younger covered in soil and various plant bits.  Nadia was glad for the break; she'd spent the earlier part of the evening chasing the boy around the entire house.  Things were sure a lot different when she had to play both mother and big sister.

            Having some time to breathe for the first time all day, Nadia decided to let her feet take her down the beach to an isolated spot.  Her body often strove to go there, to this sacred place, but her mind protested because there was always so much work to be done.  But she allowed herself to visit several times a week.

              There, emerging only slightly from the sand, was an unassuming rock of blue and white, polished perfectly smooth by the sea.  Flowers of cream petals were planted behind the rock, flowers the girl had planted herself and watched over religiously.

            Nadia put her pail to the side and knelt by the stone.  She ran her fingers over it, dislodging small sand particles trapped inside the engraved letters.  She pressed her hands against the rock, which was being warmed by the setting sun.  The heat that radiated out onto her palms was only a whisper of the warmth she had once known.

            Papa…

            Her eyelids fluttered to a close, the lashes gently brushing moist cheeks.

            Times like this, with the burning twilight behind her and the darkness dead ahead, turned Nadia's to What If's.  What if her father was still alive?  What if she still had a united family?  What if she had little brothers or sisters that were all hers—and didn't partly belong to Sora?  These questions went on and on, but always boiled down to one thing.

            What if she could still be happy?

            Nadia wept.

            She left when it was mostly dark, feeling a bit distressed.  Selphie was probably wondering what was keeping her.  Nadia picked up her things and hesitantly left the gravesite, bidding her father an apologetic goodbye.

            "See you later, Papa," she whispered, walking away backwards.

            Nadia then fell, tripping on some rock or tree trunk or something (it was too dark to tell).

            "Ah!  I was a second too late!" said a voice, sounding disappointed.

            Nadia looked upward from her place stretched on the ground.  She had a very…unflattering view of the boy from before.

            Him?  No way!  She considered the situation briefly.  At least she didn't have to thank him for anything (he hadn't saved her, had he?) and it was now impossible for him to see her eyes reddened by tears.

            Nadia sat up, careful not to bump him.  She gave an extra rub to her eyes just in case.  Then she stood.

            Or, rather, tried to stand.

            "Hey, are you all right?" he said, crouching and worrying in response to her cry of pain.

            No way…  Life was not kind.  Life was cruel…and horribly cliché.

            "My ankle…I think I twisted it."

            Damn! she shrieked more than once inside her mind.  Damn.  Damn.  Damn…!

            "Then allow me to carry you home!" the boy cried.

            He sounds…ecstatic…Nadia thought, horrified.

            He swooped her up, one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees.  He began to walk—well, it was more like a jog, or maybe even a sprint.

            Was he…humming?

            Inside, Nadia was feeling increasingly troubled.  She had never been carried by anyone…not since her father.  Anyone.  She started remembering the times he had lifted her and spun her in the air…

            "Papa!  Papa, I'm flying!"

            "Please…please put me down," she murmured, trying to hold back the pain welling up in her heart.

            She must have sounded sincere this time (and not merely annoyed), for he complied quickly, setting her down to sit on the sand.

            They were still a ways from the village, sitting and kneeling in the very near-dark under a cluster of palm trees.

            "I apologize…  Did I upset you?"

            "No.  Sorry.  It's not your fault.  I just…"

            She was feeling a little better now.  A chilly breeze took her away from the warm memories and back under the tree with the strange boy.  Perhaps it would rain tomorrow…

            "I'm sorry," Nadia said.  "I'm just silly, I guess."

            The boy sounded like he knew it was much more than that, but didn't choose to pry.  She was glad for that.  "All right," was all he said.

            They sat in silence, listening to crickets chirp and the waves crash against the shore far below.  A few fireflies emerged from daytime hibernation.  The soft orbs glowed, in synch with an alien rhythm, communicating with each other in one of the most beautiful languages Nadia had ever witnessed.

            "I need to get back and get my brother," Nadia explained apologetically.  She was a little sad to leave this tranquil scene—even if she was sharing it was a 'lecher.'

            "You can lean on me instead of being carried," the boy said.  He helped her stand and limp back to the village, a slow and awkward process.

            They paused at the door of Selphie's house.  Light fell across the ground from inside, a little of it bathing the young man.

            "I never asked your name," he said.

            "Nadia," she replied distractedly.  In the back of her mind she was pondering how to apologize to Selphie for the inconvenience…

            The boy won back her attention by falling to his knee and taking her hand against his lips.  "What a lovely name that is, my lady."

            She was struggling to get her hand back, suddenly reminded of why she thought him a lecher…

            "And I am Edgar.  Edgar Figaro."

            Nadia snatched her hand away at last and used it to cover her mouth, trying to restrain a snicker.  What a ridiculous name!

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Anyone surprised?  The lovable womanizer of FFVI is back—ten years younger!  Whoo-hoo!  I decided to put him in instead of throwing in another character from scratch.  Oh, Edgar, you are so horribly wonderful!

I honestly have to apologize for this chapter.  Over the past few days, I've spent an ungodly number of hours pouring over it…  Re- and re-editing…You wouldn't believe all the little changes I kept making and all the places I really got stuck…and even now I don't think it's what it could be.  I'm posting it now because I am just sick of switching sentences around ;_;  I'm really hoping this story turns out well.  I feel pressured to make it uber-good since it features an OC…  And I'm worried it's not yet at the level of quality it truly should be.  It's starting off a little slow and disjointed…but I do have ideas as to where it's headed.  There will be, of course, lots of Sora and Kairi (probably starting next chapter?)

Ah, I should stop moaning and groaning!  At least people are reading it, eh?  Eh?  *crickets*  ;__________;