Full Summary: Long ago, a deadly mist called Miasma enveloped the world, forcing the inhabitants to live near giant crystals in order to survive. Every year, Crystal Caravans are sent out from villages and cities to collect Myrrh, a special water from crystalline trees that re-energizes the crystals. Kalas, a nearly full-grown male Selkie has never been part of a Crystal Caravan. He seems entirely focused on his one-man war against monsters. How can a certain band of caravaners lead by a blond Clavat girl help him? And how can they do what others have tried and failed: stop the Miasma?

Wow, and here I thought I would not do another fanfic like this. I don't want to be labeled as someone who can't think up her own plots and has to mix two different titles to make a multi-chaptered story. Yet the more I thought about it, the more I started to like the idea: To take the world and part of the story of Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles and imagine what it would be like if Baten Kaitos characters were in it.

Anyway, much like my previous combination/adaptation story, there is no need to have played FFCC to enjoy this story. If you have not played it, consider this an AU fic set in a more traditional fantasy world than that of Baten Kaitos. Unlike Tales of Phantasy though, this fic will not follow Crystal Chronicles' s story, at least not until much later on. The world of FFCC will be introduced at a pace that won't confuse those who have not played the game but (hopefully) won't bore those who have.

Character from both games will be in this story, not just those from BK. There will be other ways in which the Baten Kaitos world is mixed in with the world of Crystal Chronicles, even though the setting is that of FFCC. There may be some out-of-character-ness, this being an alternate universe and all, but I will minimize it. Part of the challenge of writing these combination fics is to predict how a character from one title may be different if he/she grew up in the world of another as well as how he/she would be the same. I will state now that there will a big change to two of them. As to who and how...you'll read for yourselves (I hope you won't mind...).

This will be my last opening Author's Note. Though I admit it is a strange premise for a story, I hope you will all enjoy it.

Prologue

Echo of Memory

A gasp escaped his mouth. Even though he was still several yards away from home he could clearly see that the front door was nearly torn from its hinges. The blue-haired adolescent boy took off on a sprint, easily maneuvering through the small wooded area. Even for a member of his Tribe, the speed at which he crossed the distance between where he was and his home was impressive.

“Gramps?! Fee?!”

He felt his heart sink. Despite seeing the door, the state of the first room still caused the boy to be taken aback. Chairs, an end table, and other pieces of furniture were tossed about haphazardly, several of them cut in half or hacked apart. The frantic boy ran further inside shouting, “Gramps! Fee!”

The boy's mind raced as he searched. What had happened? Who or what did this? Most importantly though, was his family all right? He had to find them!

The kitchen wasn't much different, only that the floor was covered with shattered dishes and the cupboards emptied of food. There was no sign of his grandfather or his younger brother.

Before he could leave the kitchen, there was a loud crash followed by a strange yelp. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been his grandfather or brother. He was able tell where it came from, though.

“Fee!” The blue-haired boy hurried to an adjacent room. Though his thoughts continued to race, the most prominent one echoed, Let them be all right! Please, let them be all right!

His silent pleas were were much too late. The boy gasped in horror at the scene before him. His grandfather, an aging man with hair already completely gray was sprawled face down on the floor of the ruined room, a huge gash across his back and his blood blackening the back of his coat. His brother Fee's back was against the wall opposite of the door, his pale-colored eyes wide and fixed on a point on the floor. Someone or something had run the light blond-haired young boy through the chest. The older boy would have howled in anguish right there if not for a third figure in the room, one that was still very much alive

The figure was more than a head shorter than the lad, its skin an orange color. Its nose was long and slightly hooked at the tip and its ears large and pointed, which jutted out of the sides of its head. Four fangs stuck out from its top and bottom jaws. The only bit of armor it wore was a steel portion of its tan, triangular hat, other than than all it wore was a similar colored pair of overalls. He had encountered the creature more than a few times before, but any five-year-old would've recognized it; the ubiquitous Goblin.

The monster was picking itself back up, having been next to a fallen shelf. The crash he heard was likely the shelf falling on the thing's head as it tried to get the shelf down. Why it wanted to get it down the boy couldn't say; all that was on it were a stuffed Moogle and Greythrone, a model caravan wagon, and a carved wooden figurine of a whale. The Goblin was probably asking itself the same question as it angrily kicked the wooden whale hard, causing its tail to break off.

The monster let out a startled-sounding glutteral shout when it saw the boy in the doorway. It hurried to pick up its curved, single-edged saber. The boy took that as his cue to run towards his room, knowing Goblins weren't fast enough to make it dangerous to show his back to it. His swords, he needed his sword!

The boy's room was no different from the rest of his house. Any furniture and other personal things not taken had been scattered around, and many broken. Among the items still left in his room was the wooden case he kept his swords in, broken in half and empty.

He cursed under his breath. That swords was one-of-a-kind, designed and crafted by his grandfather. It was not the time though to get angry over a stolen weapon, however rare it was. He needed a weapon. A quick scan of the floor revealed a Goblin's saber. No doubt the fiend who took his sword discarded its own weapon in haste.

Not a moment sooner, the single Goblin poked its head into the room, letting out a loud grunt, perhaps the Goblin equivalent of “I found you!” The monster then jerked its head back out, seeing the weapon in the boy's hands. It could not tell how well he could handle the blade, but regardless, its query was now armed. Without its companions, it did not want to stick around and find out how skilled he was. The Goblin turned to run away from him.

Unfortunately for it, an enemy seldom lived when it showed its back to a Selkie.

In a single bound the boy closed the gap between himself and the monster, delivering a powerful slash down its back and knocking it off its feet. With a stab through its back, the creature was silenced for good.

This was not the first time he had killed a monster—or a Goblin for that matter--but he suddenly felt drained. With the invader dead, several thoughts and questions came upon him: Why had monsters entered the city of Balancoire? While he and his family lived on the border of the city, far from anyone else, monsters rarely, and supposedly with great reluctance, set foot within the area of a crystal's blessing. There had been rumors and stories of monsters invading those who lived on the edges of small towns and villages, but a city? Had they really become bold enough to raid border homes, or was it just a one-time occurrence? It was generally believed that since monsters thrived in Miasma, they were sensitive to the purifying powers of large crystals. Had some of them built a resistance to it?

Just how long ago had the Goblins invaded his home? The rest of them likely did not leave too long ago. That single Goblin was probably an especially greedy individual, hoping to find more loot by staying behind. Even so, Goblins rarely liked being alone for long. It may have thought it would catch up with the rest of its group. What if he had returned an hour early, a half-hour early? Would he have been able to stop them? Or were there too many for him to fend off? Would he have wound up dead like his grandfather and brother?

He could think and ask questions all he wanted, but he knew nothing would change what had happened. His grandfather and brother, the only family he had left, were both dead. All because of those Goblins, because of monsters like them plagued this world of Miasma. The boy felt ready to shed tears, to weep uncontrollably. What prevented him was a feeling of rage slowly growing within him. Two separate emotions cause by the same tragic event.

Walking away from the dead Goblin, he looked down at the floor, surely about to cry. He reentered his little brother's room, turning his sorrowful gaze at his family. His grandfather must've tried to protect Fee, perhaps rushing into the room once they broke in. A Goblin mob of any size could have cut them down too easily. Goblins, as well as most monsters, would attack anyone, but they seemed to revel in killing those who are or are nearly defenseless. He felt his rage flare, his look of sadness changing to that of anger as he lifted his head up.

“I won't forgive you! I'll never forgive any of you! I'll find you all, one by one! You'll answer to me some day! I'll make you pay for this! I'll do whatever it takes!”