Storyline: Takes place two years after the events of Final Fantasy 12. Completely original storyline, as well as characters. Canon characters will make their appearances, but at a much later time within the story.

Disclaimer - All recognizable works (Including Original Characters I have not claimed) are not owned by me, nor do I claim to of solely conceptualized them. This FanFiction is purely for entertainment purposes, Nonprofitable, etc, etc. By definition, it is FanFiction.

Important Note - Earlier chapters are undergoing revision. Revised chapters are clearly marked and formatted at their beginning. A warning: The first chapters are pretty slow.

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Midday - Rabanastre…

Airships floated in formation over the Royal City of Rabanastre, remarkable capital of the arid independence of Dalmasca. Today was a normal day for this time of year; heated and dry. Residents of this climate have grown accustomed over many years or since their birth. Those who had not, did their best to seek refuge from the unmerciful sun, hiding within shadows cast by looming towers and apartments that were raised throughout the entire city.

Groups of children darted around with complete bliss as they participated in innocent games, making sure to steer clear of any adults who usually carried sacks and crates of goods that were set for delivery to whatever appropriate shop in order for business to continue its flourish. Things that couldn't be pawned to shops were brought into the humid ranks of the Bazaar, a place that reeked of sweat and cheers of advertising emanating from the stalls covering every single inch of space available. If there wasn't a stall, there was a carpet topped with oddities as well as an odd person. If there was no carpet or mat, mercenaries or guides would loiter around selling their skills and knowledge, forsaking loyalties and bias for coin. Any strange individual could wander into the Bazaar and not one would judge them.

They only thing they did judge was authenticity of Gil. That is why they absolutely despised window shoppers who often turned to be potential thieves. Such as the naked woman right now who groped everything in sight with ravenous curiosity. As bare as a newborn babe, this woman was an exception such virtuous rules.

To the merchants, the lack of decency and clothes indicated that she was even less than the street rats they despised, whose lives were molded out of illegal acts for the necessity of survival. The looks of fascination and wonder could be interpreted that she was calculating the item's worth. They deemed her innocent enough after a while though,however wary. Comfortable enough for some to openly mock them. Yet she showed no aggression at the impressive slanders she received. It was as if she didn't even understand the words they spoke. When an offended vendor plucked her away from his stall, she displayed only passiveness; moving on and tampering with the displayed prizes on the neighboring stall.

Eventually she grew bored, exiting the Bazaar, away from the veil of musky shade provided by the cover of hundreds of worn rugs and blankets that were draped between buildings. The moment beams of warm sunlight illuminated her, the lustrous violet sheen of long hair was revealed; so dark that it was mistook for a raven black when the sun wasn't directly shining. That detail was not nearly as alluring as the fact that she was wandering the streets without a single scrap of clothing, earning the gawk of nearly every male adolescent Hume.

Fascination dawned on the woman's face as she marveled over various foreign styles, figures, surfaces and shapes, amazed the colors did not fade or run when her fingers trickled along the faces of assorted objects. Some instinct told her they would be fleeting in some way...Guess it was wrong.

As she wandered, the people who witnessed her actions opened their mouths and made strange noises, but to her, the noises were indecipherable, prompty ignored soon enough.

As time crawled and fewer sights to behold, she resorted to observing the choice of cloth belonging to various persons. They looked at her curiously. Again, their mouths made opened to make sound. Again, they were ignored.

Everything was a new sight to behold and embrace...

There was a word for this feeling…It was just beyond her grasp…But the word fluttered away, lost.

Eyes satiated for beautiful scenes, she walks to discover more. As she ambled, people pointed their ligaments in her direction. Most huddled together. Out of the corner of her eye, she observed intently; their mouths clearly were moving yet produced not a sound. Strange. Not taking the time to understand distance and sound, the woman paced between locations to observe more floods of colors. There seemed to be a small group of people following her steps. She didn't know why.

Ignoring her followers, the woman traipsed aimlessly further. But… Over time, the group of behind her expanded. Their whispers irritating her, so much so that she had to crouch and cover her ears.

The noise isn't so bad now...

Then a very cold, strange hand tried to remove her hands from her ears.

Why? Why would this person - if it was a person - will her to be uncomfortable? The noises were too loud...

With force, the cold hands removed her ears and she was spun around. Hands dropping to her side. The noises that were around earlier seemed to of decreased greatly. The woman observed her offender with a mixture of interest and distaste. She was also surprised at what greeted her.

A Brown-Silver Metal Man.

She remembers these beings. They were familiar. They stand around in various spots, unmoving, unyielding to any force. They stood still like the Gray Things. Unlike the Gray Things however, his lips were not still. They were moving now. Still, his tone was indecipherable.

Her eyes scoured the place where his face was supposed to be. The bottom was organic, but the top was inorganic; covered by a plate of iron.

Was the iron a part of him? His mouth was moving like the other people she has seen. Masculine sounds. Did that me he was a person too ? This Brown-Silver Metal Man?

She was curious now, head tilted to the side to convey her thoughts more clearly. Reflexively, her hands shot up and attempted to remove his helm, but his metal ones grabbed hers, his mouth making noises again. She wanted to see. To know. To Experience..!

Why spend time trying to listen to noises that made no sense?

With slight irritation, she attempted to remove the helm with haste. The man couldn't react in time. A silent victory for her. But as she tugged…The helmet wouldn't come off. It defied her.

Maybe it was a part of him...

The man removed her hands, again, with more force - more strength. His lips were set in a sourly, as they opened and closed slowly. Drawling his speech. There were not many words. He brought his hands towards his head and unbuckled strips of brown. After some time, the silver and brown head came off.

Did he remove his own head...?

Her eyes were focused on the 'head' now. What did he do?

She was moved again against her own will. What was with all this touching?

What her eyes found was most surprising. Beneath that silver and brown head, was a face like all the others, but this one was different. She couldn't keep her eyes to herself:

The man's hair was a simple blonde like many, in a simple style, but his features... Green eyes, and he resembled the still-gray men and women she's seen... A beautiful face that was colored.

Was there a word for this? She couldn't find one again...

The woman brought her hands to his face and started to feel his features. As she did this, he gave a face most amusing; One eyebrow arched into the air, eyes clearly giving off confusion mixed with curiosity.

She was pleased.

His skin had no absolutely no resistance and was smooth to the touch; unlike the still-gray tall figurines. He wasn't solid like them either... Squishy..? No. Structurally sound seemed to define him better.

A few moments passing of caressing the man's features and she came to a conclusion; So the Brown and Silver men were not like the still-gray men and women. To affirm this, she knocked on his head lightly. Yes, they were not the same as the still-gray men and women. His expression was most amusing...

Curiosity now satiated, she turned around and walked. Many thing awaited her. Awaiting to be discovered. Awaiting to be fascinated.

This place was truly magnificent.

So many things were discovered today! She just saw a Gigantic Yellow thing, with wings and two legs. Quite plump too! It didn't shun or make fun of her like the people have. It didn't point it's wings at her. It just went "Kweh?" or even a loud "Wark!" when the same people who stared at her strangely gave the Yellow Thing things to eat.

But...After a while, it ignored her presence. Maybe it didn't like her?

So, she got up from the funny smelling, gated area and walked off with a slight feeling of dismay. The woman didn't know where else to go though. She got here by going through a very large opening, but now it was closed. She only got through when others walked through.

Now she just sat outside of it...Staring. Would it open if she did this? Another person came over to talk to her with their mouth moving. Unlike the others, this one didn't seem so.. Unfriendly, hostile towards her.

He spoke slowly and gently. Even with this kindness, she couldn't understand..

It was frustrating.

Then, he pointed at her then pointed to the gate. Did this man know what she wanted? She did what the man did; pointed at herself, then to the gate. Then the man nodded his head, then did the same thing. So, maybe he DID understand her?

Nodding his head again, he went over to a brown and metal man, speaking the words,"Open the gate!"

Oh..Pen...The...Gate? That was all she needed to say? Interesting...

Then, with those words, the massive wall split in two, dragging away from each other, opening the way for her. Flashing a bright but brief smile towards the man she made her way through.

As she made her way up the rough stone steps (She was bare foot), a group of people were standing near the fountain. One was on top of the fountain, shouting quite loudly...What were they talking about?

The man or - the woman - on top of the fountain then pointed at her with a very mean look on her face and shouted some words. The group of people then turned and all stared at her. Like the rest, they had odd faces. Some were kind, others were cruel. Did she do something wrong or right?

"THAT is the girl! Get her!" the woman roared. The crowd of various races looked and murmured amongst themselves.

A black-haired, male hume was the first to speak, "Did she do something wrong..?" the black haired man asked curiously.

"YOU DO NOT SEE?" Shouted the women atop the fountain, "Look at her hair! She's not wearing any cloth either!"

A dark-skinned, Hume woman scoffed in the crowd and voiced her opinion, "Don't Vieras dye their hair all the time? Maybe purple is a dye too? As for her clothes, maybe she's just hot?"

The crowd chuckled at the light-hearted joke.

"Or, maybe, that is a new way to color your skin! I mean, she is very pale considering this is Dalmasca," Spoke a blonde man with a distinct Archadian accent.

"Would you want your children dressing like that?" the loud woman retorted.

"Well, I probably wouldn't mind if it was a scolding, hot summer day in Dalmasca, no less," another hume man snobbishly intoned.

"It IS pretty hot today..."

The rest of the crowd chimed their agreements. Except the women atop the fountain, who looked comically pissed.

"By the way Hume, why are we standing here listening to your ramblings about another hume?" An obese, blue seeq snorted, "-Snort- Some of us have work to do, ya know! And this blasted heat isn't making it any better!"

"Aye, I agree with the Seeq! I have to deliver something to Migelo. Ya know how he gets when his shipments are late," a Bangaa dryly croaked.

"Ugh!" the woman atop the fountain threw her hands into the air. "Why won't any of you listen! She is obviously not normal, and foreign! Have you even seen what she's been doing? She has been touching everything she sees! Like an overgrown infant!"

"It doesn't take much to know that she is foreign, but she acts somewhat normal... Minus the touchy-touchy business, mind you," Remarked the black haired man. "In any event, what exactly did she do to you, Margira?"

A foul look of disgust blossomed over Margira's features, "She touched everything in MY stall at the bazaar! She didn't even wash her hands in the bucket of water either!"

"So, you're just singling her out because of" a mucus ridden snort, "-her hair and skin? I've" and another, "-seen people touch the foodstuffs at your stall all the time without -snort- cleansing. It don't mean that they 'freaks'" The blue seeq deadpanned.

"Um...Has anybody asked what she thinks, kupo? She hasn't spoke a word, and we're all just talking about her. A bit rude, isn't it, kupo?" a white moogle added.

"Yeah! What does she think!"

"Hey girl! Who are you and we're you from!"

The woman in accusation simply blinked, head turned like a curious dog. There was a certain amusement in her eyes but she said nothing in reply. Only staring. Sensing the awkwardness at hand, someone in the crowd attempted to speak, "...Maybe her tongue is cut or voice is ill?"

"Or , I do not know, but MAYBE, just maybe, she's in shock?" a young girl with long hair said seriously.

"You fool! Why would she be shocked"? another sneered.

"...Dunno. Just maybe?" the long-haired girl squeaked with a slight flinch. The bangaa threw his hands up in exasperation, "Ugh! Stupid hume!"

"Hey! I am not stupid! Maybe a bit dim-witted, but not stupid!" the girl argued, earning a bitter chuckle from the bangaa, "See! Yah even admitted it yourself!"

"No I did not!"

"Yeah, yah did!"

"Did not!"

"Yah did!"

"Ugh!"

Although the chorus of arguments and hilarious reactions was amusing, they began to quickly lose their flair. Leaving the groups to themselves, the woman departed from the scene without a care in the world, humming a tuneless melody.

"...That's it! I have idled far too long! I need to get back to work..."

"Yeah! Migelo is gonna to be peeved at me.. Thanks a lot, Margira," a light-skinned Bangaa sneered.

Only when the crowd dispersed from around the plaza's fountain did she reemerge, gravitating towards the large fountain in the center. At first, her fingers lapped against the water ripples pushed by small breezes and motions underneath. Soon, it was under the water the spurting fountain she danced, danced without a care in the world. Some children even danced alongside, joyously splashing and thrashing about.

When the sun lurched over the sky, the sky dimmed orange. Parents began to dismiss their children, hurrying them inside. The rainbow of colors that reflected beautifully from stray clouds of mist from the fountain long since vanished. Darker and darker everything turned, losing its color and splendor.

Drenched in head to toe, a smile on her face, the woman took her leave from the plaza with a literal bounce in her step once again singing that emotionless, tuneless tune. When she turned a corner, a hand grabbed her wrist, knocking her off balance as it forcefully dragged her across the outdoor, crystal lit door.

Abruptly the dragging stopped, and the woman looked up innocently towards the offender from aground with the ever-present tilt of the head.

"I know you're evil," the woman simply stated as if most obvious,"I just know it. How come you will not speak? Are you scared?"

Earning a polite hymn from the girl, Margira shouted from impatience, "You're a freak aren't you! ? Hair isn't like that! It's not normal! It's the only logical explanation!"

Quickly, Margira glanced behind, paranoid of unwanted attention. After concluding that nobody was coming, her voice dropped into a deadly whisper, dripping with venom and hate without a purpose, "What do you have to say, mhm?"

Doing the only thing that got her something, the oblivious woman pointed at herself, then at Margira, nodding after.

"Is this some kind of sick joke to you?" Margira was not amused.

The woman performed the motion again, thinking that would solve her problems.

"How dare you mock me!" hate and scorn, "Nobody mocks me...I'll show the world what you really are. A freak!"

The sentence was punctuated with the entrace of a Dalmascan Patrol the woman thought was familiar. Margira's expression was lunatic as she drawed a dagger from her clothes and thrusted it into the soldier's throat. In spasms the man collapsed, eyes stricken with fear of death as he vainly attempted to cover the wound. But the wound was too deep; with every harder press only more blood spilled out.

As Margira smirked triumphantly, the woman could only stare.

Curious

Why did had he struggled to prevent the flowing? What was the significance of the red liquid? While the woman pondered over its function, Margira put on a look of desperate horror, "Guards! Guards! Help! Murder! Assault!"

Without a care in the world, the woman watched the man suffocate on his own blood while Margira fled, tossing the red painted dagger at the woman's feet. But she did not care for the iron instrument. The man was struggling as he spasmed violently, skin turning grey, but for what?

What just happened...?

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