-1Soo, the story continues. To all regulars, welcome, fellow masochists. Hope you enjoy looking into that twisted organ I call a mind yet again. To all the newcomers, you really should read the first story before this. I can assure you the writing's just as bad in that one, so you're honestly not missing anything.

Huh, I really don't have much to say this time. Well, get on with it, you poor doomed souls.

When talking about Katzu's reign in Ivalice, it's very easy to dwell on the negative. It is very obvious, after all. Almost one third of the country seceded, the number of clanners plummeted, some families were forced to stop doing the work that they had been doing for centuries. The study of magic was struck especially hard, as cities were forced to shift funding traditionally for higher learning to production and manufacture of goods to keep up with Katzu's demanding taxes.

Despite all this, good things did happen. The economy under Cross was booming. Former clanners took jobs in mines, mills, and factories. New trade routes were established, along with new cities. Even vagabonds and beggars could find enough employment to eat when the need arose

No one could doubt that under Katzu, everyone was protected. His Country Patrol, also called "Clan Katzu", protected citizens from monsters and bandits, as well as helped in numerous public projects. The Katzu Cross Windmill Farm allowed parts of Uladon Bog to be drained, and a small but prosperous farming community was established.

Thanks to a good economy and protected routes, trade couldn't have been better. With the help of large banks like Winston, Winston, and Winston, an ambitious and driven person could make a good living for himself starting his own trading business. Erik Winston and Sons Trading allowed these small businesses to make good commissions shipping on established trade circuits for the merchant family. "Every mouth fed, every back clothed," was the motto of the Katzu regime, and it was one they stuck to.

So long as you stayed in your place, didn't make any trouble, and worked, Ivalice under Katzu was a safe, comfortable place to live.

"Roland Nikola. Famous clanner, esteemed scholar of magic, and self proclaimed genius." A tall, freckled man looked across his enormous desk to the nu mou sitting before it. He smiled politely. "It is an honor to speak to you, sir."

"Katzu Cross," Roland said, a humorless grin on his face. "Fearless fighter, savior of the economy, and arrogant megalomaniac. You've no idea the pleasure this meeting has for me."

Katzu's smile didn't diminish a bit. "Well, I suppose you want to know why you're here."

"I can hazard a guess," Roland said dismissively. "I want to know where Bethany is, actually."

"You really were part of Clan Nutsy," Katzu said, the small smile on his face still intact, "you feel that you should be entitled to everything you want. Here you are, under arrest, and you are demanding, I must repeat, demanding answers from your executioner."

"And you really are arrogant," Roland laughed, "here you are, after making sure to capture me alive, at the expense of some of your best units I might add. How do you have the gall to attempt to intimidate me? Where's Bethany, Mister Cross?"

Katzu brought his great hands up in a platonic gesture. His bear forearms were carefully sculpted, each sinew standing out. "Don't worry, Roland. Miss Winston is in my paradise prison. It's where I keep the prisoners still useful to me. It's amazing what these dissenters create for my cause." He ran a hand through his red hair and sighed. "Why is it, Roland, that the finest minds are always the ones that want to disrupt the status quo?"

"They understand the concept of freedom, and realize why it's something to fight for," Roland said. "Freedom is something that everyone is entitled to."

"Is everyone entitled to sit outside, eat their food raw, and clothe themselves with leaves and animal furs? Because that is also a part of freedom. We're trying to create a society here., Mr. Nikola. You must admit, how many beggars have you seen? Everyone is employed, everyone is fed. Ultimately, everyone is happy."

"Save for revolutionaries, of course," Roland said, "it was rather disheartening about my friends, Macgregor and Sybil. I was never able to find their graves."

Katzu sighed again. "That was a very unfortunate incident. I had no other choice."

"Oh, of course," a dark chord was creeping into Roland's voice now. "What impudence they had to try to get their children into a Cyril school. Oh, never mind the fact that the kid's parents risked their lives so you had the opportunity to wrest power from the government. Where would you put them? Not viera, not bangaa, where do they fit in the system? So just refuse them! And of course, when the parents try to protest, you crucify them!"

"They did much more than protest," Katzu said, his voice slightly strained. "They tried to form a political party against the country's government."

"Debate's healthy."

"Dissention isn't!" Katzu bellowed. "A separate political party would cause confusion amongst the public. If the public is in confusion, production starts crawling, the economy slows, and recession comes that much closer! I can't let that happen to the citizens of Ivalice!"

"There are always dips in prosperity. Inflation, decreased demand, factors aren't always perfect. Without that slap every now and then, how will we know what to work toward?"

"We will work towards a better tomorrow."

Mateus above, the man's loony, thought Roland. Does he honestly believe what he's saying? "One where people aren't publicly executed, perhaps?" Roland rubbed his swollen eye wearily. "Mister Cross, I have done nothing but talk for almost ten minutes now. If you're going to kill me, please do so. If you're going to torture me, get on with it. If you're going to imprison me, be quick. I'm tired. I recently had an early flight, and an unfortunate accident with a gun's butt."

"Roland Nikola," Katzu said, the polite smile now completely gone. "There's a place for you in my plan, as well. Did you notice something about my office?"

The nu mou smacked his lips a few times. "No magic. None. I was going to ask how you accomplished that. I felt my magic sapping out when I stepped in."

"It was an interesting discovery. Do you know that some people with an affinity for magic can act as magic conduits, channeling it?" He pressed a button under his desk, and it rose.

Under its polished wood frame was a nine foot tall glass tank. Suspended in it was a moogle, grey eyed and with a shock of blonde hair sprouted up from the top. "Montblanc," said Katzu, a smile on his face once more. "The greatest black mage of his time, yes? And I found this form of magic channeling works best with two people so after discovering it, I sought one who had skills comparable to his. And who should I find but this beautiful lady?"

Roland felt his vision zoom in on the nu mou floating inside the tank. "Rachel."

Her silver white hair stood on end inside the tank. Her green eyes shone out like two emerald search lights. The slope of her shoulder, the curve of her snout, every detail hammered into Roland's psyche. Years of mental barriers, already battered, broke down. Roland slumped in his chair, his mind shutting down instead of trying to deal with what he saw.

"There's a reason I endured your poisoned tongue for so long, Roland Nikola." He turned to his bookshelf. "How much did he put out?"

The bookshelf swiveled, revealing a nu mou looking at a piece of paper that was writing jagged lines onto itself. "Seven hundred MP and still counting, sir. This one fellow has more power in him then almost your entire Mage Corps combined. He could power the entire palace on magic alone if he wanted to. Start the fires, run the water, everything."

Katzu nodded. "That's what I was hoping for." He looked at the two floating mages in front of him. "Did we ever find a way to close this thing easily?"

The nu mou shook his head. "I'll have a porter take care of it, sir."

"See to it. And put the Roland in the Mage's Tower. He should keep out of trouble there. Have the alchemists snake a conduit into his cell."

The nu mou smiled grimly. The Mage's Tower? It appeared Roland was going to be there for a while. Poor schmuck.

Bethany woke up in a small room of stone, laying down on a surprisingly comfortable bed. Not Winston standard by any means, but a definite step up from any inn she'd slept at. Rubbing her eyes, she started to take in where she'd spent the night. It was nice enough, with a large window and a bookshelf to the right and a bathroom on the other side. Book ending the shelf were two draftsmen tables, like the ones back at her dorm in Cyril. There was also a bed beside hers, currently occupied.

Passing straight through whatever moral quandary a normal person would have in waking up a complete stranger, Beth hopped off her bed and vigorously shook her new roommate.

"Hwuh?" said the sheets, which pulled back to reveal a nu mou who was probably a bit older then Beth. She scratched her white hair tiredly. "Do you know, it's very impolite to wake someone up, especially like that."

"I'm really, really sorry that I don't particularly care, kupo," Beth said, what little sense of etiquette she had overruled by her need to figure out where she was. "Who are you? And where am I? I'm in prison aren't I? How'd you get in here?"

"I'm Veronika Feynman, you're in Katzu Cross's paradise prison, so yes, and why don't you say first?" the young nu mou said. She got up and put on a pair of thick spectacles. "My, you're a pretty thing, aren't you?"

"Try to talk your age, kupo," Beth said. Veronika had sounded like her grandmother with that last thing she said. "I'm Bethany Winston. The name should tell you everything, kupo."

The young nu mou nodded and got up. "Well, it's an honor to meet you, Bethany. As for my reason, I refused to give the government my master's alchemy notes when he passed away."

"Who was your master, kupo?"

"My master was Harker Drogovitch, of the Delia Dunes. He liked to keep to himself. I was lucky enough to be his granddaughter."

Bethany thought for a second. "Kupo, I think I read an essay by him. Did he do a lot with plants, kupo?"

Veronika nodded. "Kept most of the patents to his spells to himself, as well. He was sort of old fashioned. He didn't want to make his spells public access when he died, and he really didn't want Katzu to get him, so he entrusted them to me."

"Where'd you hide them, kupo?"

"You think I'm telling you?" Veronika asked incredulously. "We just met! Being cute will only get you so far."

"Are you coming on to me, kupo?" Beth asked. She found her new roommate to be more open than she was comfortable with. "Because I sort of have this guy on the outside, and he's pretty kupo so…"

Veronika laughed. "Oh, don't worry, my husband probably wouldn't approve of me having an affair with my prison mate," she thought for a second and laughed again. "Well, he'd probably not approve of him being unable to see it, at any rate."

"So," Beth said, deciding now would be a good time to change the subject. "What's the normal schedule around here anyway, kupo? Do we just stay here?"

"Oh, they let us out to eat and socialize, then we come back in here and work until dinner, then we can go to bed." Veronika said. There was a pause before she uncertainly added, "or, you know, whatever."

"Kupo?" asked Beth, still unconvinced that Veronika was subtly hitting on her, "What else is there?"

"Do you play chess, by any chance?" Veronika said in a slightly pleading tone. "Bismarck and I used to play all the time but it's been four months and I don't want my game to suffer."

"Um, I play sometimes. Sure, kupo."

Veronika clasped Beth in an enthusiastic embrace and thanked her. "Oh, it's so good having you here! Most of the prisoners are so much older than me and I was the only girl and it's just so good to have someone to talk to! Sorry if I sounded a bit odd, but it's nice to have a room mate after four months."

Kupo, clingy much? Beth thought to herself, but realized she was being mean. "It's fine. Sorry if I was a bit snappish, kupo. I'm still in a bit of shock. Um, you can stop hugging me, kupo."

Veronika blushed a bit and set Beth down. "My personality probably hasn't helped that shock, eh?" she asked ruefully.

Beth smiled. "It's okay, kupo."

"Ladies?" a voice behind the door asked, accompanied by a knock on the door. "Breakfast time."

Veronika got up and put on a morning robe. "In a minute." she tossed Beth a shawl. "Come on, I'll introduce you to everyone else."

Uncertainly, Beth wrapped the shawl around her shoulders and followed Veronika out. Prison wasn't as bad as she thought it would be, but she still wasn't sure what to expect.

Roland woke up in a dank stone cell, on a mat of stuffed hay. In front of him was a bowl of water and a piece of bread. "My dinner, I suppose," he said to himself and started to munch on the crust he was given. Now was the time for logical thinking. Now was the time to be calm.

He tasted the inside of his mouth again. The familiar taste of magic was gone. He was being bled dry, his natural production of magic being outstripped by some force sapping it out of him. Still, no time to panic, think calmly.

Okay, let's see here. Large metal door, decidedly magical runes and such inscribed on the face. Roland rolled his eyes at that. Most of them were probably for show, anyway. He did put his hand on it. Hm, sparks , red light, excruciating pain, okay, the normal things. Still, calm thinking. Well, Roland deducted as he nursed his aching hand, this was obviously a prison built to keep mages of some power in, so how would he have built a prison for the government.

The answer was obvious to Roland, as it was to any mage of some power. Make it damn near inescapable but, and this was important, make it so that if you were imprisoned in it, you could escape. You never know who might not like you in the government after all. Make sure it was something not too easy or obvious, but something no one but a mage of your caliber would recognize.

"Right," he said, now starting to project his thoughts, "so no secret passages, no invisible key, no special word. It would have to be a spell. Something really obscure and hard to do. Think Roland. Well, what do I know about who designed this place?"

Sitting down, Roland attempted to sift through the magic frequencies to figure out who could have done this. "Hmm, choppy. Bits are flowing independently of each other, and it ways they wouldn't naturally. Not a sage. Hmm,. Quite varied, bits of color magic and pure magic are in here, so probably not a specialist of any kind. Probably an alchemist. So how would an alchemist get out of here? Come on, calm thinking, Roland." He thought for a moment. "Wait, would that work? It's darn near obscure enough, but who'd do something like that to themselves?" A look of speculation crossed his face as he thought. "Alchemist probably made this place, and if they're thinking what I'm thinking, only one alchemist would have the guts to do it." He shook his head. "Ezel, you're like a guardian angel." With that, Roland started to rip clumps of his beard out.

And cut. All right everyone, see you next time. Probably some time in December, who knows. Now I know what you're thinking. And stop it. Your mother would be ashamed. But if you also were wondering where some other characters from the last fic were, don't worry, their time will come. I've got this weird plan for the story, so we'll see how it works out. Anyway, G'night, folks. Tip your waitresses, they work hard.