Common Ground

The Story of Nyah and Takeshi

It was a cold winter's day—the day the strange girl appeared in our village. The circumstances, the coincidence; and my uncle had just boasted of the security of Talon's borders. To have a girl of barely seventeen years appear as if out of thin air, to magically be in one place and then in another—the craft of a mage but the talent of one of our own? It was only by the providence of her forthright words and her appeal to logic that she was not immediately put to the sword. She was not a stranger to discount so easily.

She hailed from Mysidia, a land I had heard of in stories. It was a mysterious place, by all accounts. An ancient land steeped in culture and memory and magic, and a place so very different from our own. But her people were not bound to the same secrecy as ours, nor the same restraint. Her speech was free and opinionated, her words sharp, and her tone indicated that she would not tolerate disrespect.

Who was this girl? My uncle, at once outraged and intrigued by her promise of new information and knowledge, had her imprisoned after a lengthy interrogation. How had she snuck past the guards, all seasoned shinobi of much renown? How could she dare go toe to toe with a king? And who was she to violate the security of Talon's grounds, a place that no one outside of the clan was allowed to see?

I observed her in her bower, at how she watched the world around her—a world she couldn't possibly comprehend—continue like the well-practiced dance that it was. Everyone in their routine, everyone with their purpose, and she the animal in her cage. I never saw her shed a tear—strange for a woman who had not been raised to resist hardship. She had a spine of steel, and her defiance was clear.

What had she run from to end up here?

Days became weeks.

The winter was harsh and the winds biting, and despite all of this, she remained in her hovel—a prisoner whose fate had not yet been decided. I could not resist the temptation to know—to ask.

I approached her cage. She was shivering when I knelt beside the bars. Her hands were purple and her skin dry, but still she defiantly sat upright, covering her head with the heavy robe she'd been given.

"Why do you watch me?" she whispered, each syllable shaking.

"Why don't you ask for mercy?" I asked instead. Surely, my uncle was keeping this woman in the cold to break her pride, but not to kill her.

"I would not ask for mercy, I would ask for respect," she replied, and her blue eyes were startling and fierce.

"Who are you?" I tried again.

She offered me a hesitant smile. "Aren't you a keeper of secrets yourself? You should know better than to ask me that."

I wasn't sure why, but I found that I liked this woman. "My name is Takeshi," I told her, hoping that honesty would make her more pliant.

"Takeshi," she repeated, testing it out. "Who are you, the prince?"

"No," I answered, lowing my gaze. "I am of the same family as the king, yes, but of lesser importance. The throne will never be mine."

"So you took the risk in speaking to me. And have I satisfied your curiosity?"

"My curiosity would be more satisfied if I knew your name."

She stared at me for several long moments, as if torn between the desire to tell the truth or a lie. "My name is Nyah," she finally revealed, and then added with the bite of sarcasm, "And perhaps you should inform your king that guests often tell more stories when they are given suitable accommodations."

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Brilliantly sneaky woman. She knew exactly which words to say and to which people and she had the king and his aides eating out of her hand. She had found a way to trade one captivity for another. No longer was she kept in her pen in the yard—she had been allowed a room, windowless and guarded, granted, but she had a pallet to sleep on. She had become a "guest" to the king of Eblan, his own personal story teller.

I was given the evening to guard her room. The wooden floors were polished and cold under my sandaled feet, but I was used to chilly evenings. The mountains of the north were secluded in the winters—buried under snow. The evening was late, but not too late, and I knew she wouldn't be asleep. I could hear her breathing through the door.

"I've heard that you've been promising the king your services," I said just loud enough for her to overhear.

"I wondered if it was you," she replied, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

"What services were those, I wonder?"

She hesitated. "I am well educated. I was schooled in languages, politics, and figures—and magic."

"The shinobi have no use for your knowledge of magic," I told her. "We have no need for it."

"So I've heard."

"You've heard?" I asked. "That's a curious thing on its own. Where did you hear such a thing?"

"When a kingdom that lives in the shadows makes covert requests for white mages, a person can make their own conclusions," she replied a little wryly. "Why would you need white mages, if you had no one with those particular skills—or no one capable of them?"

Well informed.

"Who were you?" I insisted, discovering by the minute that she was a person of more importance than I had realized.

She laughed, and it was almost as cold as the floor we were both sitting on.

"Would you believe me if I told you?" she asked lightly.

"That depends. You're quite the story teller. How can I be sure you aren't lying?"

There was a moment of silence through the door. "I was a student of our Elder. One of his most promising students," she mused. "Until they found out I was no longer fit for their order. An exception."

"An exception?" I repeated.

"Someone with unorthodox magic. Someone who could do more than they should."

"You were born with magic," I said. It was an outstanding notion. The only people I'd ever heard of who were born to magic lived within our kingdom. The shinobi came from ancient roots, and ancient stigmas. We had gone to great lengths to hide what we were from the magic community of the world. For someone else to be born with magic in another corner of the world? That was rare—and dangerous.

"Strange how you can live for years never knowing, until the day when you do," she said sadly.

"What did you do?"

Again, she hesitated. "I caused a gale—sheared the trees all along the holy avenue," She laughed. "Never saw such a look of fury on the Elder's face. Nothing went quite right after that. Just one thing after another."

"How did you get here?" I wanted to know.

"On a boat."

"There are no boats that come from Mysidia to Eblan," I replied.

"There are many boats near Agart, and some of those go as far as Eblan's waters. Mages have their own tricks that even your people could take a few notes from."

And cocky.

"Why did you seek us out?"

"What better way to get the attention of your king than to appear in his own village?" she inquired.

"For what purpose?"

"Asylum."

I sighed, cradling my head in my hands. "You chose a dangerous kingdom to seek asylum."

"Danger wards off the curious. I can't go back."

"You can't stay."

"Your king hasn't made up his mind. Why have you?"

It was my turn to pause. "What would you do here? What kind of life could you possibly have? Have you ever considered that you might never see more than those four walls?"

"It's probably better than what I would have had in Mysidia," she reflected. "I'll take my chances. I have nothing else to lose."

"Your life," I said, tiredly. "Your life may have been spared up until now but that could change at a moment's notice."

"Then at least it was by my own choice to come here, and not because I allowed myself to be locked away and deemed insane."

"How can a girl your age be so without fear?" I asked, intrigued at her resoluteness.

"You'd be surprised."

"Perhaps I should start listening to the tales you tell the king," I replied.

"Perhaps, and then maybe you'd get your answers," she answered.

I smiled—at this game the two of us were playing. "I look forward to it," I told her, and to be honest, I truly was.

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A/N: I'm not really sure how much I want to reveal at this point. But I'm sure you guys can start to put together some pieces as to who these two individuals are ;)

But just in case…this is VERY VERY PRE-GAME. Backstory—holla!

A few things, though…the setting is most definitely Eblan. Talon is a clan. I am incorporating ninja clans into the fabric of the FFIV 'verse. Eblan is not really a vacation destination. And, there are more villages and towns in the kingdom than just the castle itself. I imagine it to be very much like feudal Japan…with a twist, obviously. This is Final Fantasy. And fanfic, for goodness sake ;)

Also…I have NO IDEA why this story bit me so hard…I was working on a different story and all of a sudden—BAM. Had to stop everything I was doing and write this one instead. There were will be future installments… ;)

And now I have a whole new little series to frustrate you with!

Thanks for reading! Until next update (and yes, I'll get GWnN and WoTC in order soon)!

~Myth

Oh. And? This IS part of a prequel to WoTC…which won't become important or relevant until I start writing POST-GAME fic, but…I'm all about teasers :)