Saviors

 

Chapter 1 – Young at Heart

 

            The man’s pudgy cheeks lifted as he smiled and a glint of triumph shone in his eyes.  A number of people were watching him and his opponent, interested, as their battle of wits continued.  This isn’t to say, however, that their activity was particularly intriguing.  Had the newcomer not made such an interesting claim before challenging the local champ, very few eyes would be fixed upon the game.  As it was, there were about, perhaps, 5 people watching.  Quite impressive, actually, since most of the people in that dimly lit bar were too drunk to see 4 feet in front of their faces.

 

            Yes!  The champion congratulated himself and heightened his ego.  I’ve got this in the bag!  Even if this guy is who he claims to be, he won’t be able to stand up to this!  He grinned very broadly, displaying, much to his challenger’s distaste, that he was missing one of his incisors.  “Remember, you said that this was the last one; the deciding round.”

 

            His opponent yawned, making no attempt to conceal his lack of interest.  “Yes, yes,” he mumbled as he rubbed his eyes and pushed some of his silver hair out of his face.  “Hurry up and go through with it.”

 

“Ah ha!” the pudgy champion announced, laying his cards down upon the table that had probably not once been cleaned since its purchase.  “Read ‘em and weep!  Flush!  Now, pay up!” he demanded, still grinning.

 

            The challenger extended his arms as far as they would go over his head, letting all in the room behold his black sleeves, with the gold embroidering near his hands.  He set his cards face down before him.  With his eyes closed and with the air of one who has done something a tad intricate far more times than anyone else in the room, he moved his right hand over the cards.  Dipping his index finger down briefly, he flipped each card so that it’s face showed, slightly grimier from having touched the filthy table.  “Royal flush,” he mumbled, making it clear that he was struggling to stay awake.

 

            The previously smug-looking man stood up abruptly, mouth hanging open as he looked over the cards.  “Wha…  Buh…  Gah…” he said, with some effort, as a number (which happened to be 2) of the spectators, impressed, looked at the victorious visitor, who was standing up.  “Err…  Uhh…” the overweight man continued his attempt at speech while the other man began to walk out, without a word.  At last the man succeeded, “Umm…  Wait!  Don’t go!  I’m sorry I didn’t believe you were the real Wandering Gambler!”  He grabbed a small leather pouch off of the table and pushed his hand towards the gambler, who had paused near the door.  “Here’s the 500 G you won.”

 

            The gambler turned around and looked at the man and his small bag, containing the fifty 10 G pieces.  Too far away…  He turned again, mumbling, “Not worth it,” as he walked out of the bar.

 

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Later that day, Setzer lazily leaned over the Falcon’s steering wheel, as he gazed out over the gorgeous blue skies and ocean.  He briefly recalled the recent good thing he had helped to do, as the sky had not long ago appeared as a nearly eternal sunset, while the waters and the lands seemed to at all times be tinged with blood.  It was, after all, what was bothering him.  He decided to admit something to himself, despite how much he didn’t want to and how hard he had resisted doing so for the past week.  “I’m bored out of my mind!  There.  I’ve acknowledged it.”  He continued gazing out over the airship’s helm for a few moments, as though waiting for something.  Nothing.

 

He felt let down, though he couldn’t be certain why that was.  What, did I think the feeling was just going to leave when I knew it was there?  He felt a tad embarrassed for even hoping that would be the case.  Then he felt very relieved that only one of his assistants was on the vessel, sleeping in his quarters.

 

He sighed.  Hmm…  I haven’t opened the Falcon up in a while…  Let’s see what she can do again.  Perking up slightly, he handled the task of steering his vessel with more enthusiasm as it rapidly picked up speed.  Setzer smiled as he felt the wind in his face, blowing his hair and coat back.  After about 10 minutes of racing about the skies faster than any other person could hope to, he slowed to his previous, more leisurely pace and, at almost the same rate, his enthusiasm lessened.

 

He knew what the problem was: nothing thrilled him any more because his life had no purpose.  When he was younger, he wasn’t sure what had kept him going.  After he convinced his father to pay for the “small, engineering project” that had created the very small Crow, the world’s first airship, a purpose hit him out of the blue: making a very luxurious craft to help him indulge his love of gambling and other games.

 

He was content with life as he designed the Black Jack and eagerly waited for its construction to be complete.  Then, he lived for the many extravagant parties he held aboard his airship.  Then I met Daryl…

 

Unfortunately, his reminiscences were suddenly interrupted as time seemed to come to an abrupt stop around him and he was bathed in a very bright, white light.  Squinting into the brilliant luminescence, he asked, “What in the--?” realizing half way through that he was alone on the deck.

 

He then heard an absolutely horrible racket, in which he could just vaguely make out a deep voice speaking, though he heard none of the words.  Setzer got the impression that a person was shouting into a very loud gust of wind, louder, even, than what he recalled hearing as he climbed the mountainous area behind Narshe, alongside three of his former companions.  He realized, suddenly, that he could not recall who had been with him, but, closing his eyes from the brightness, he decided that it probably wasn’t important enough to think about.

 

Eventually, the noise ended and he was greeted by a relative peace.  The peace was only relative because, while he no longer had to put up with that awful noise, the light was still as bright as ever and his boots were no longer touching the Falcon.  Wait a moment…  That can’t be right.  I’m imagining it.  He realized that he was not imagining it when he looked down and his eyes verified that he was, indeed, ascending.

 

He had put up with a lot in his life and, for the most part, kept his cool: the loss of Daryl, the discovery that he had been tricked with a two-headed coin, and the confrontation with one of the Goddesses, to name a few of his life’s interesting and distressing events, most of which, he reflected, were recent.  However, as he could see the town of Tzen as a very small speck by this point, Setzer began fidgeting and screaming at the top of his lungs.  “Help!  Heeelp!  Somebody!  Do something!  I’ll give you the Falcon!”

 

Even with his somewhat scattered mind, he knew he had just said something quite stupid.  “If someone’s there, forget that last thing!  I’ll give you…  Umm…” However, before he could finish his bargaining with the air, the light seemed to engulf him entirely and he blacked out.

 

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Setzer woke up feeling quite disoriented.  His head throbbed and, while sitting up, he placed his hands upon it, grimacing and hoping he had just been dreaming and was now having a particularly terrible hangover.  Note to self: lay off the drinks.    A little.  He waited until the pain became bearable before opening his eyes.  He closed them immediately, however, as the world was spinning around him.

 

After a few more minutes, he opened his eyes again and saw that the world seemed to have fixed its gyration problem.  He saw trees in front of him, but he didn’t know what variety they were.  They appeared to be maple trees, but, the last time he had checked, maple trees weren’t as large as the ones before him appeared to be.  The leaves were vibrant and green, which surprised him.  I thought it was autumn…  Or have I just not checked lately?

 

He noticed that he was lying on what seemed to be a dirt road.  Grimacing at getting his clothes dirty, he stood up and dusted off the back of his pants.  Pleased that the dirt was fairly powdery and not at all moist, he decided to look around.  The road extended in two directions: to his left and to his right.  He removed a coin from his pouch, which, if he wasn’t mistaken, seemed larger than before, flipped it high into the air, then, seeing the profile of King Philip Ren Figaro upon it, nodded and began walking to his left, deciding that it was the least he could do, as he had no clue where he was.

 

He walked for a few minutes before noticing a few odd things: first, he was not moving as fast as normal, although his pace was the same; second, he felt quite a bit lighter than he had when he was on the Falcon; and third, his hair seemed quite a bit shorter.  He paused, then lightly slapped himself in the forehead as he realized something else: he had not done a thorough search of his belongings.  Fearing that he had been robbed, he began searching the small pack he always carried with him.  Let’s see…  Deck of attack cards, a few Tonics, a few Potions…  A buckler?  When did I put this in there?  And where are all of my other things?

 

After a few minutes of running back to the first area and searching frantically, he found none of his missing objects.  He decided to check a few other things on his person and realized, with horror, that all of the expensive equipment that he had purchased during the adventure and that he had continued to put on in the mornings, out of habit, was missing.  It explained his lightness, but didn’t cheer him up at all.

 

“Thieving bastards!” he shouted.  All of his other thoughts were immediately interrupted by a glaring one that now pushed itself to the forefront of his mind: Dear lord…  My voice…  When did it get so… high-pitched?

 

He didn’t have long to dwell on this, however, as he heard footsteps coming from the direction in which he was walking.  He placed a hand on his cards, preparing to fling a few, should the approaching party be hostile.  He relaxed when he saw a very worried looking brown-haired woman in a red dress dashing towards him.  He became more alarmed, though, when he saw that she seemed to be a giant.

 

“Tommy!” she shouted, sounding both relieved and enraged at the same time as she dropped to her knees before him, bringing her head just below his.  Setzer blinked at her, unable to respond as she paused before him and, between breaths, demanded, “Tommy, why do … you always try to … run away?  Don’t you like living … with your Mommy and Daddy?”

 

Setzer was confused.  If she hadn’t been too busy trying to catch her breath, the woman would probably have heard the gears slowly turning around in his head.  Why would she say that to me?  She looks nothing like my moth--    No.  No.  No!  This is idiotic!  I refuse to accept that…  I’m…  He couldn’t bring himself to even think it without definite proof.

 

His ‘Mommy’ seemed to realize something new herself, now that she was breathing comfortably again.  “Tommy, where did you get those clothes?” she asked, somewhat worried.  Her eyes moved down, then up him and, upon reaching his head, she screamed.  “My god!  What’s happened to your hair!?  Why is it silver!?”

 

Setzer knew he had to react somehow, as much as he would rather just say nothing and melt away.  “Umm…  I don’t know…” he began, feeling embarrassed at the sound of his voice.  After a moment, noting her more worried expression, he hastily added, “Mommy.”

 

She hugged him.  “Well, it doesn’t matter if those fairies got to you and changed you!  Your Mommy and Daddy will never stop loving you, Tommy!”

 

“I…  I know…  Mommy…  I…  Love you, too.”

 

“I know, my darling,” she said, relieved and standing up.  “Just promise you won’t play around here any more.  Do you promise?”

 

“Umm…  Sure, Mom.  I promise.”

 

She smiled, stood up, and started walking back the way she had come.  “I’m glad to hear it.  Now, come along.  It’s getting late.  If the fairies are even coming out in the day, now, I really don’t want you here at night.”

 

Wordlessly, Setzer followed.  How am I going to get myself out of this mess…

 

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Author’s Notes:

 

It’s been WAY too long since I wrote a fanfic.  To those of you who enjoyed The Heir of Zeal’s first 10 chapters, despite all the time that has passed, I haven’t forgotten about it and will, someday, write more of it.  However, I just had an urge to write something, and, after reading Rainhawke’s Hawk and Fox (a very, very nice Suikoden II fanfic, in case you weren’t aware) I felt like starting this.  So, I’ll just say now that many elements from that story have been borrowed.  Well, I hope that this fanfic turns out great, so, until Chapter 2…

 

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