Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy VI; it belongs to the people at Square. Well, Square-Enix now.

I open my eyes and I feel like I am waking up after one thousand years, as if I am starring in some kind of fairy tale. The kind of fairy tale where the girl is woken from her cursed slumber by a kiss from the handsome prince who always seems to show up just in the nick of time. I frown. This is not a fairy tale. This is real life. I look around, seeing no prince. Not that I expect one. Despite that, I do expect to see a familiar face. Instead, I'm met by tyrants. The wooden walls. They seem to be trying to get under my skin and telling me that I'm all alone. I shake the last bit of sleep from my head and the walls stop taunting me. I wonder where I am. This bed doesn't share the smell of inn beds; freshly washed linens to welcome the guests and trick them into believing the three digit figure they pay to spend the night is worth it. I inhale a little deeper. All I smell and feel through the partially opened window is ocean air--the sharp and unmistakable scent of salt water combined with a gentle breeze. I close my eyes again. I don't feel tired enough to go back to sleep, but I feel stiff and my eyelids are still heavy. As I lay like this, I think about the first thing on my mind. All kinds of things had happened with Kefka, but I still feel a bit hazy and I can't tell how much was real and how much was just a dream. It frustrates me.

The creak of the door opening breaks the silence of the room. Someone's here. My heart skips a beat and I hesitantly half open one of my eyes, almost afraid of who--or what--I may see. I see a man standing at the table. He is of average height and dressed in a slick yellow coat. He appears to be cold or nervous, because I notice a faint tremor. When he turns his head a bit, presumably to look at me, I am filled with relief. The mustache and gentle brown eyes are the first familiar things I have seen since waking up. Cid's here with me, wherever 'here' is. I get out of bed and feel dizzy for my first few seconds of standing. Cid notices.

"Celes... at last...!" he sounds elated. Cid walks over to me and begins looking me over, as if in disbelief. "Celes... at last...!" he repeats himself. I look at his face and can't help but notice the contrast of the dark half-moons beneath his eyes and his unusually pale complection. "You're finally awake," he confirms.

I stretch. "I... feel like I've been sleeping forever." My own voice sounds alien to me.

"For one year, actually..." Cid says after taking a couple of seconds to mentally calculate it. "I thought you were out for good." His relief is apparent.

I'm shocked. "A whole year..." I repeat, unable to fathom being idle for so long. It annoys me that so much time has been wasted. But that must mean that my memories of the Blackjack airship being levelled and of me falling aren't just recollections of a bizarre nightmare. I shouldn't be alive after that, especially if I've really been in a coma for a year. Cid must have been... "You've watched over me the whole time?"

"Yes, and I'm about out of energy." He offers me a weak smile. I examine his face again. He doesn't look well. I notice that his voice is a bit hoarse, almost as if it hurts his throat to speak. I still don't know where we are. I must look puzzled because Cid takes a look at my face and starts talking again. "We're on a tiny, deserted island," he explains, clearing his throat. "After the world crumbled, I awoke to find us here together with..."

Oh, please let it have been Locke and the others!

"...a few strangers."

That's a let down, but I don't harp on it for long. Cid has just told me that the world crumbled. That confirms that what I thought may have been a dream really happened. "The world!" I exclaim at this revelation. "So it wasn't just a dream..." I shift my gaze to the window, trying to see if anyone's outside. "Where are my friends?" I ask. "Where's Locke?"

Cid looks away. "I don't know," he answers. My heart sinks. "I only know we're here. Maybe we're the only people left alive..."

No... That can't be true. A lump forms in my throat, but I swallow it back down. Generals don't cry, especially over something that's merely speculation.

Cid's still talking. "Since that day, the world's continued its slide into ruin. Animals and plants are dying. The few others who washed up here with us passed away of boredom and despair..."

I'm not really hearing Cid. In spite of what I wish to project, I find myself staring at the floor. My eyes are blurry with tears I refuse to shed. "My friends..." It feels so strange to say the word. For the first time in my eighteen years, I'm actually able to refer to people as such. Those people may not even be alive anymore. A sudden pulse of hatred toward Kefka racks my body. I'm trembling a little. I take several seconds to regain myself before speaking again. "They're probably all gone." I despise the words that I just spoke. I sound weak and dependent.

"Celes..." Cid says my name. "You're the closest thing to family that I have." Family. There's another word I've never been able to say. "We could just live out our lives here peacefully."

The thought of eternity here, even with Cid, is enough to drive me mad. But at the same time, it's strangely appealing. Just Cid and I, with nothing to worry about anymore. I wouldn't have to soak my hands in any more blood. I would finally be at peace.

I know I wouldn't. Not until I know what has become of Locke and the others. But for now, all Cid and I can do is wait here. "I suppose so, Cid..." He looks very forlorn. He must be able to tell how I feel. I decide to try and brighten his spirits. Forcing a little extra pep into my voice, I add, "Or should I say Granddad?" Family. I feel my insides swell with warmth. "May I call you that?" I ask to make sure Cid doesn't mind. He seems overjoyed.

"Gramps, eh?" he smiles at me. "I'm overwhelmed! All of a sudden, I have a granddaughter..." he trails off and his words dissolve into a fit of coughing.

"My long lost granddad..." I say softly, not really talking to Cid. I feel saying it out loud makes it feel official.

Cid laughs, then starts coughing again. I notice that he's shaking.

"Hey, are you hungry?" I ask, concerned.

Cid nods. "I haven't eaten in three or so days, ever since I became ill."

So he is sick. It's pretty obvious. "What would you like?" I ask, though I doubt there's much I can get for him on a 'tiny, deserted island'.

Despite his illness, Cid seems to be in decent spirits. "Well, unless I ask for fish, I won't get anything!" he laughs. "That's all there is here!"

"I'll go catch some." He seems about ready to pass out, so I take his hand and help him over to the bed I'd woken up in earlier. He lays down. I assure him that I won't be gone long, grab the blue and white checkered place mat off the table and step outside for the first time in a year. The cool air feels nice against my skin. I walk down to the beach. A seagull is hopping around near the water, probably looking for something to eat. Something shines from below the water's surface, catching my attention. The sun is reflecting off the scales of a fish.

The fish is swimming slowly, and close to shore, so I quietly advance on it. I wish I had a net or something as I reach in with my hands and try to grab the fish. It slips away the first time, then floats lazily in one spot. I try to grab it again, succeeding this time. It doesn't put up much of a struggle. I hold the slick, limp creature at eye level. Its scales, which are supposed to be a greenish brown judging by the other fish in the water, have a sickly white hue to them and it doesn't smell too great either. I know that fish generally don't smell good, but this one has a particularly bad odour. I examine it some more and wonder if I should throw it back. I think of Cid and he has not eaten in three days. I don't know my chances of catching one of the other fish and fifty-fifty odds don't appeal to me. In fact, I hate even odds. I even prefer odds highly stacked against me to them. At least then I pretty much know what's going to happen. I opt to keep the fish and I spread out the place mat. I set the fish on it, then gather some drift wood in hopes of starting a fire to cook the fish for Cid. I absently finger the fine silver chain holding the Magicite shard around my neck before I begin chanting the spell. Even though it's been a year, I still remember the words.

"Fire!"

The drift wood pile goes up in flames and I skewer the fish with a stick and begin roasting it. It looks cooked enough, so I shake it off the stick onto the place mat. After dousing the fire, I make my way back up to the cottage.

"Granddad!" I call to Cid. I walk over to his bedside and put the place mat on his chest. I unwrap its contents. "Here's a fish! Eat up!"

I see Cid smelling like a dog. He hungrily eats the fish. "Oh! Yum!" he exclaims after his hunger is satiated. He then starts coughing. His expression changes. His eyes droop and his facial muscles sag. "My worst nightmare is to think of you alone here on this wretched island."

"Don't worry, Granddad," I try to reassure him. "Now that I'm here to take care of you, you should recover quickly and then we can do what you said; live out our lives here on this island together. Or, we could try and build a raft or something and see if we can find anybody we know on the mainland."

Cid smiles at me, but I still see sadness in his eyes, which close soon after. He falls asleep and I decide to go and catch some more fish for later.

Cid's condition remained the same for a couple of days. Today, he seems worse. I tell myself that he has to get worse before he can get better. I bring him breakfast--fish, of course. He eats it as always, and the fact that he still has an appetite is comforting. Amidst coughing and wheezing--which is becoming more chronic by the day--he says, "While I can still talk, I want to thank you."

"Oh..." I don't know how to respond. I don't understand what he means by while he can still talk. I understand that he will probably lose his voice, but he will get better. He promised not to leave me alone here. He's going to get better. "You're welcome," I respond in the only way I can think of.

"Celes..." he chokes out my name. "If I don't make it--"

"You'll make it," I say firmly. "Don't say things like that. You won't recover in that frame of mind."

He offers up a weak smile. "You're... probably right..." he wheezed.

"Don't speak," I say, getting him some water from the ice spell I melted in a bucket last night. I don't think the water here is helping Cid's condition, so I decided to make some. "Save your energy." He nods and smiles his thanks and drinks it.

The morning creeps by at an agonizing pace, and soon, the sun is high in the sky, signifying midday. I tell Cid that I'm going to go fishing again for our lunch. "Good-bye..." he says. He sounds so gloomy. No wonder. He's been sick for almost a week now. I'd be miserable too.

I go out onto the beach. I catch and cook a couple of fish. Catching fish is hardly a challenge anymore. I head back to the cottage and offer a fish to Cid. His eyes are open, but he's not looking at me. He doesn't acknowledge me or the fish at all.

"Granddad..." I say softly. "You have to eat or else..." He still doesn't answer. Then I notice that his chest isn't rising with wheezy breaths, and he hasn't blinked since I returned. "W... what's the matter?" I drop the fish and feel my veins fill with ice. He's not... "Cid..." I unclench one of my shaking hands and brush my fingers against the side of his face. He's cold. "No..." I whisper, my eyes growing wide. I jerk my hand back and back away. "No! You promised you'd say here with me!"

He's not gone. He can't be. Cid would never break a promise. He's just seeing how I'd react, seeing what I'd do if he passed away. "Granddad!" I don't like this test. I want him to know that he can stop now. "Answer me! Tell me you're just joking!" I wait, holding my breath. I'm staring at the bed where Cid is laying, his empty eyes gazing at the ceiling. I feel tears burning at the corners of my eyes, but I won't let them fall. I feel sick.

As I run away from the pain, I feel the tears streaming down my face against my will. I furiously brush them away with the back of my hand as I flee the cottage.

My throat is raw by the time I reach the other side of the island. I ran the whole way. I stop for a little while to catch my breath.

I guess I'm alone... just like I always was up until Locke saved me that day in South Figaro. I bite my tongue to prevent me from crying. The sickeningly sweet taste of blood fills my mouth and a few drops spill over my lower lip. I don't care. I won't cry. Why couldn't he have just left me there to die? At least then I wouldn't have to feel this way. Why did I fall victim to the desire to experience friendship and... love? I should have known it would have ended like this. People like me are meant to be alone. If I'd have just died in that prison, I wouldn't have experienced loss.

I catch my breath and begin my trek up the hill, fighting back tears the whole way. I feel so pathetic. Why does it hurt so much? I wrap my arms around myself, digging my nails into my arms. It's not like I really cared that much about them. My only concern was stopping the Empire and their twisted ways... and Kefka... they just happened to have the same idea.

Oh Locke... I reach the top of the hill, overlooking the ocean and beach. I can't bear to look at it. It only serves to remind me of my failure to take care of Cid. Why did you save me? If you'd left me, I could have just died like I deserved. Alone. I look at the ground and am horrified to see a dead bird lying there. This is it. There's no one left.

But I suppose now's not much different, is it Locke? I'm going to die here alone anyway. We never expected it to turn out like this. You're gone, the rest of our friends are gone, Cid's gone... even the people who were here before I woke up...

I return my gaze to the ocean and step closer to the edge of the cliff. As I look out over the water, I suddenly hear Cid's voice.

"Those others who were here... when they were feeling down, they'd take a leap of faith from the cliffs up north. Perked 'em right up!"

"Everyone's gone..." I tell the sky, balling my fists and clenching my jaw. I can't cry. What would crying help? I cast another glance toward the edge of the cliff. "Even Locke, who promised to watch over me..."

Locke... why did you ever make that promise? You should have known you wouldn't have been able to keep it. I was meant to, and will, die alone.

I look at the dead bird. "The world's slowly ebbing away..."

I walk closer to the edge. The lump in my throat breaks and I start crying freely. For once, I don't try to fight it. Why bother? It's not like I'll have to live with this feeling of helplessness afterwards.

My only regret is that I didn't do this sooner.