Final Fantasy II: The Rebellion

“Firion,” Maria said nervously, feeling her heart race. She turned to stare at her pale-haired companion but he was not looking at her, his eyes instead focused on some place in the far distance that her own could not see. She sighed, running a hand through her dark hair. Firion had been much quieter and more reserved ever since they had rescued the princess. The incident had brought forth a much more mature, and to Maria's dislike, solemn side of him.

“Everything should go according to plan,” Firion answered quietly without looking at her.

“Your damn right everything is going according to plan,” Cid grumbled, steering the ship. “When I make up my mind about something, it gets done completely or not at all.”

Maria sighed. She and Firion had agreed to be part of the aerial attack on Phin easily enough, but now she was having second thoughts. Guy wasn't with them, as he was currently stationed in the woods outside Phin and Leila was nowhere in sight. Surrounded by about a dozen other people that she only knew by face, and traveling about a hundred feet off the ground, it was hard to relax.

“We just need to take it easy,” Firion said softly, his own mind racing. His eyes still refused to meet Maria's. 'It's not that hard,' he thought to himself. 'Everything should go fine...I hope.' Looking out over the edge of the ship, his eyes caught sight of the woods surrounding Phin, where several more groups were planning their entrance.

“Hilda told me to lower you all down on the roof,” Cid said gruffly as he started to lower the ship. “There is a balcony near your right. I'll let you all down there.”

The ship lowered until it was only a few feet above the roof. Slowly, the other members of the group made their way out, jumping one at a time out of the airship.

Firion nodded to Maria. “You first or me?” he asked her, inclining his head downwards.

Maria swallowed nervously. From behind her, Cid was watching apprehensively. “Firion,” she began, not knowing what to say. “I'm afraid...what if we...”

“Die? I can't promise you that won't happen,” Firion said, his eyes downcast. Cid was starting to look annoyed. “You two are the last ones still on board,” he told them both. “Come on now, I'm not getting caught.”

“That's not what I meant!” Maria exclaimed, grabbing a hold of Firion's wrist. Cid glared at her. “Now, come on...”

“I'm afraid of who we might kill...”

“What do you mean?”

“That's it, you're off.”

Before Firion knew what was happening his feet had left the ground. He felt himself being tipped forward, and a moment later found himself sprawled on the ground, in considerable pain. From beside him, Maria was stumbling to her feet, clutching her arm, which was starting to bleed.

“He threw us off the ship,” she muttered angrily, rubbing at her sore arm. “How could...Firion are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” Firion answered, though he did not feel fine. His head was throbbing from the fall. He glanced at her, then cast up a strong Cure spell for her arm. The two then hurried to catch up with their comrades, who were already sneaking inside.

“So this is Castle Phin,” Firion murmured quietly once he was inside. He gazed at all of his surroundings, taking in the ornate statues and fine furnishings. Like Castle Palamecia, the place seemed to breath with art: detailed paintings of legendary summons, ornate statues of dragons, imps and even behemoths.

There was no time, however, to look around. Several Imperial soldiers standing as guards had spotted the group. Firion threw up his strongest Wall spell, temporarily halting the guards. After another member of the group had taken care of them, the group pressed forward. The next room was much larger than the first with several different exits. The group split into two and each headed off in the opposite direction.

Firion glanced out the next window he passed. “Maria,” he murmured quietly, his hand on her shoulder. “Look.” Maria blinked for a moment, then turned her head in the direction he was pointing. “I think I can see Guy...”

Upon the fringes of Phin, bright flashes of magical attacks lit up the night sky. The ringing of steel on steel erupted from every corner. The ground attack had begun.

The town of Phin had not been this rowdy, or this crowded, since the Empire had taken over. The rebels appeared in streams from all sides of town through the trees that surrounded Phin, bearing swords, knives and shields. In the subsequent minutes following, mayhem ensued. Magic flared from all directions: bolts of white-hot lightening, bright orange-yellow flames, shards of ice in the form of seemingly transparent spikes. Hundreds of arrows flew every which way, their end tips aflame.

The Emperor's soldiers were far from few within the town, yet they were outnumbered easily. It seemed as though every surviving resident of Phin had taken up arms. Almost as one, from everywhere the citizens of Phin took up the battle cry and poured forth from every crevice of the beleaguered city to reclaim their home.

“We can't possibly find Maria and Firion in all of this,” Paul called out to Guy, expertly dodging several frozen arrows that fled passed him. Throwing himself out of the way of a Flare spell, he hurried towards Guy, keeping his head down, knife in hand.

Guy either did not hear his remark or would not answer. Holding an ax in one hand and a short-sword in the other, he was making his way towards the castle.

Paul was surprised at just how swiftly Guy could move, given how massive he seemed compared to everyone else in the vicinity. He dodged attacks with near lightening speed, without the use of a shield. He hurried towards the castle walls, his ax slicing through any who attacked him, deflecting any magic based attacks with his sword.

“Obviously someone hasn't the vaguest idea of stealth,” Paul remarked from his place beside Guy as he parried an attack. He moved swiftly, cutting open the throat of the soldier before he could strike again. “If you meant to fight like a soldier, you should have told me so. I'd have brought my imaginary sword and we could play fight.” He then dove backwards, narrowly dodging several arrows that were aimed towards him.

“Heads up!” Paul called towards Guy and the two ducked behind a half-demolished building as more arrows flew towards them. From the corner of his eye he could see one of them strike another rebel. Grimacing slightly, he turned back to the battle at hand. “Damn them. Let's go.” The two sprang to their feet. Ignoring several soldiers heading towards them, they headed into the castle.

The rebels had counted on being detected long before they reached the throne room, but they never imagined how bad things could turn out. Upon stepping into the foyer, a battle had broken out almost at once. Outnumbered by a great deal and having been ambushed on all sides, their chances of winning were not good. Arrows rained down from the balcony above their heads, magic spells flying to and fro. The group's Black Mages were casting whatever magic they had in quick succession, while the White Mages were sending up magical barriers over themselves and their nearest comrades.

“Fire!” Maria called, sending a wave of flames at her nearest assailant. “Ice! Thunder!” She hurriedly chanted spell after spell, aiming at every Imperial soldier that she saw; hoping that none of her own comrades were hit. “Ice! Duck!”

The Rebel nearest her dove out of the way as several arrows flew by. Maria's ice spell made contact with one of the archers, and as she dove out of the way of several more arrows she hurriedly cast up another ice spell.

“Cover me!” the Rebel muttered to her as he deflected an ice spell off of his shield. Maria cast up her strongest fire spell and sent it hurtling after the remaining soldier. The spell missed him by inches. Gritting her teeth in frustration, she caught sight of Firion out of the corner of her eye. He was standing a few feet away, his back turned to her. He seemed to be doing rather badly, outnumbered by three to one, his magical barrier wearing thin.

From the stairs above Firion's head, several more arrows rained down, their tips ignited with flame. Icicles flew downwards as well, striking several rebels and even a few Imperial soldiers. Firion dove quickly, narrowly dodging another ice spell. Moving fast, he cast up another magical barrier, but not before being struck. Doubling over onto his knees, his shoulder throbbing, eyes watering in pain, he struggled to gain control of himself. Glancing about quickly, his eyes settled on a nearby statue. Lowering his magical shield, he cast up a quick float spell, sending the statue hurtling through the air. The statue struck one of his attackers from behind, crushing the back of his head.

Firion dove forward, ignoring the arrow which had just narrowly grazed his skin. Snatching up the man's fallen sword, he turned and drove it into his nearest attacker. He was not quick enough when pulling it back out and found himself kneeling on the ground a moment later, clutching at a bleeding arm. The sword had fallen from his hand and he was unable to grab it as his third and final attacker loomed over him, his blade wet with Firion's blood. Before Firion knew what was happening, the man's head was on fire. Clutching madly at his hair, his sword fell from his hand, nearly striking Firion, who was still on his knees, unable to get up.

Another rebel grabbed Firion and dragged him out of the way as the soldier he had been fighting fell, his head crushed in, smoke still rising from his burnt hair.

Leila stood behind the fallen body now, holding a piece of the broken statue in both hands. As the rebel released Firion, he fled to Leila's side. The two fought their way towards Maria, who was edging her way towards an inner chamber. Blasts of fire, ice and lighting came from her hands as she warded off her attackers. Another rebel fought beside her, his sword slashing through soldier after soldier.

A minute later, the halls were crowded once more as about three dozen rebels made their way into the hall, covered in blood and earth from the woods.

“Did you cast the...” Firion began, staring at Maria intently as he cured his arm.

“Yes,” Maria told him, as a Flare spell flew past her, smashing open a nearby urn. Bowing her head, she motioned for Firion and Leila to follow. The three headed quickly into the next hall. Ignoring the few soldiers and rebels who lingered here fighting, they continued their pursuit into the castle.

“Hilda said to get to the throne room,” Maria said. She leaped over a fallen body, resisting the urge to see who it was. “If the Commander is allowed to retreat...”

“Hilda said that wouldn't be a problem,” Firion informed her. “He...Guy!” All three of them came to a halt.

Guy came rushing towards them, covered in blood, his clothes singed. “Fire broke out in front of castle,” he announced. “I try and reach you but you rushed ahead.” He paused in front of them, an ax in his hand.

“We are okay,” Maria told him. “We must find the Commander.”

The group of four headed to the throne room. Leila turned to Firion as they were hurrying. “You didn't think that I was going to let you three have all the fun, now did you?”

Firion shook his head. “Never would have dreamed of not including you,” he told her, forcing back a smile.

Just as Firion had predicted, the Commander had not retreated. Quite the contrary, he was seated in the King's old throne, several soldiers surrounding him.

“So you four are the ones to oppose me? Mere children...” he laughed, one hand resting on the arm of the chair, the other on the hilt of his sword. “I hope you all don't think that I am as weak as Borghen.” He shook his head, still laughing. Then he addressed his next words to his men: “Seize them.”

Firion reacted quickly. Casting up the strongest white magic he possessed, he hurriedly cast Protect on Maria, Leila and Guy. Each of them targeted one of the soldiers. Maria was quick to cast up several elemental spells, striking her opponent before he could get near her. One of the other soldiers crashed into the wall beside her, his neck broken, courtesy of Guy.

Firion drove his knife into the neck of another soldier, severing the artery. From beside him, Leila had already dispatched the last soldier. Standing as one, the group of four turned their attention back onto the Commander.

“Not bad,” he said quietly, still seated on the throne. “Let's see you deflect this...” Opening his arms wide, he began to conjure up a strong magical shield. Bright white light burst forth, covering the party members.

“The shield is beating us back,” Leila called out, struggling to remain on her feet. “Quickly, don't lose track of what we are doing! Fight!”

Maria and Firion fought back with their magic, Maria's fire eating away at the wall as best as it could, Firion's dispel struggling to vanquish it. Just as they were about to collapse under the magical shield's weight, the combined white and black magic spells caused the shield to rebound back on the Commander. As he was hurtled off his throne and into the air, Maria's fire spell hit him, causing him to burst into flame.

The group stared in silence at the man's burning corpse. They were covered in blood and dirt, and surrounded by bodies. Yet this was a happy moment for them, not a depressing one in spite of the dreary scene before them. As they stood there amongst all the ruination, only one thought came to Firion's mind.

“It's ours again,” he said, laughing slightly. From beside him, Maria let out a nervous chuckle. “Phin is ours!”

The whole group was laughing now. From out in the hall, they could hear shouts of joy. Coming out of the throne room, they headed towards the front of the castle. Other rebels were gathered there, embracing and laughing as well.

“Firion! Maria! Guy! Leila!” The whole group turned to find Paul heading towards them. He was covered in blood and was limping slightly. Nevertheless, he was grinning from ear to ear.

“We sure showed those soldiers, didn't we?” he cried, grabbing a hold of Firion's shoulders. “We sure showed them.”

“They were no match for us!” Leila exclaimed from beside him. Unexpectedly, she turned and hugged Maria.

Looking relieved, Guy pulled an arm around Firion and Maria in turn. The three headed through Phin with Paul and Leila by their side, passed laughing, celebrating rebels and back to Altair.

Phin was indeed free from the Empire's control. The remaining citizens of Phin were free to move back into town. Hilda moved back in her father's old castle, where she resided over everything from her throne.

Still things were far from back to normal. Many were without homes due to the massive fire that had claimed Phin from them all those months ago. Hilda was harboring as many as she could in the castle guest wings, offering them food, clothes and shelter, as she had in Altair earlier that year.

Hard work was being done to ensure the town would be properly restored before long. Guy and Paul both gave a hand in rebuilding the homes, while Firion and Maria worked their hardest to help Hilda out at the castle.

It was a chaotic time, a hectic situation, full of much discord and confusion but it was nonetheless a joyous one for many. Their hope restored upon getting back Phin; they worked as hard as possible at fixing up Phin. Laughter could be heard coming from the builders as they worked away, their hammers in hand. Men and women were chattering animatedly as they wandered through town, carrying their belongings from Altair and helping others move back into their homes.

Things were far from ideal, but they were hopeful.

For Hilda, however, hopeful was not enough. Summoning Firion and the others to meet with her and Gordon, she addressed their next course of action.

“It is hard to believe that so much has happened in so short a period of time,” Hilda said softly, turning to size up Firion, Maria, Guy and Leila in turn. “You have all worked so hard, you have fought as bravely as any trained soldier could have done...” She trailed off for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. She glanced at Gordon for a moment, who was seated beside her. She then faced forward again. Her eyes betrayed her tiredness, the seeming fatigue which wore at her from inside out. Nevertheless, she sat straight in her chair, her hair pulled back elegantly and her lips pressed together.

'How strong she seemed despite her young age,' Firion thought, feeling a little of his old admiration for her rise again. Quickly he squandered these thoughts.

From beside Hilda, Gordon was just as somber. It was hard to imagine that this serious-minded young man, his own face a perfect mask like Hilda's, with a sword sheathed at his side, was the same young man who had once fled the captive town of Phin in terror.

“We are most thankful for your help,” he told them all. “If I could, I'd end this war right now so that no one has to suffer.” He shook his head sadly. “Unfortunately, this is not to be. There is still much to be done. The Empire is reeling after it's losses, but it will not be long before Emperor Paramecia orders another attack, be it on Phin or a remaining ally of ours.”

“What will you have us do?” Firion asked quietly. “Whatever it is, we will gladly assist.” From beside him, Maria was nodding her head.

For a moment no one spoke. “We have lost track of the whereabouts of Minwu,” Hilda replied in a low tone of voice. “He was sent to the Mysidian Tower by my father to retrieve the Ultimate magic there, but he has yet to return. I know that he is strong enough to accomplish his task, yet still I worry that something dreadful will befall him there, or that it has already.” She exhaled slowly, then continued: “Firion, may I entrust to you all the task of finding Minwu and aiding him in whatever task he has yet to accomplish?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Firion answered her.

“You will need a Crystal Rod from Mysidia in order to break the seal upon the door,” Gordan informed them. “The people of Mysidia are wise, but they are also suspicious. They will not allow you to enter the chamber without sufficient proof of your intentions.”

“Then how will we get in?” Maria asked him. Her eyes had a curious look to them which Firion recognized at once to be excitement. 'Mysidia. How could she not be roused by that name?' Inwardly, he felt a spark of amusement. 'I did promise her that we would go there one day.'

Gordon paused for a moment before answering. “There is legend of two masks that when used correctly, will open the chamber underneath Mysidia to where the Crystal Rod is held.”

“Where are these masks?” Leila spoke up.

“That I do not know,” Gordon answered. Leila scoffed at him, folding her arms resolutely across her breasts. “Figures,” she muttered.

Hilda, however, did know.

“There is an island...” she began, “...north of Salamand, where one of the masks, the Black Mask, is kept. It's people are very traditional in their ways of living, but they are not without reason. I'm sure they will help you if you are polite and courteous towards them and their traditions.”

Maria and Firion exchanged worried glances. From beside Guy, Leila scoffed again, her head turned away. “Primitive,” she muttered, “Just what we all need.”

Hilda carried on as though she had not heard her. “As for the other one, the White Mask, it is located somewhere beneath the castle. Where, I do not know.”

“We will be sure to start our search as soon as possible,” Firion said, throwing a stern look at Leila as he did so. She ignored him. Maria and Guy both agreed at once.

“We will not let you down,” Maria told Hilda, her eyes wide.

“Never,” Guy told her, looking just as determined as his friends.

Leila sighed. “No, of course not,” she said turning to face Hilda. “We will bring him back safely, if we can,” she added.

“Of course,” Hilda replied. “I have complete faith in you all.”

Final Fantasy II: The Rebellion

A/N: It took awhile, but I finally managed to get this chapter down. I had some trouble while working on the Battle of Phin, but it's no matter. It's done and now I can start working on the next chapter. I hope to have this story finished soon. It should only take a few more chapters, I estimate about four at most. Thanks for reading and reviewing.