The Summons

We were ambushed. The rumbling of the earth was our only warning before the dinosaur creatures burst through the forest and fell upon us.

With a thief's grace, Locke was the first to join the fray. Or was it Shadow? I've lost sight of him. He's melded into the darkness of his namesake - waiting for his chance to strike, no doubt. Sabin and Gau soon followed. One moving with poetry and precision, the other with wild instinct. Both are effective. Celes and Cyan stand back to back, issuing commands between sword thrusts. Setzer and Edgar linger behind, not out of cowardice, but to protect those of the party whose gifts are not physical.

Relm is to my left, Strago my right. They watch the enemy...no, they study the enemy...memorizing every little movement. Little girl and old man - they don't seem like much, but their strength is in using the opponent against itself. We have very strong opponents now.

And then there's me. No one's said anything, but I know I'm expected to cast great magic. The others can use magic, but they do not wield it. Not even Celes. Her magic was grafted on to her. My magic flows through every fiber of my being.

The enemy is large and numerous, but a summons should take care them all. I reach into the bag I wear around my hip and dig for a piece of magicite. I find the one I'm looking for - the brown crystal streaked with emerald. The one that was once my father. A warmth radiates from it. Sometimes I wonder if he knows it's me.

I hold the magicite in my hand. It's a bitter irony that the green of the stone matches the shade of my hair. I push the thought aside. I must focus.

I close my eyes. I shut out the noise of the battle. The others are no longer here. It's just me. It's just the magicite. I picture myself in my mind. Darkness is all around me. I can't see so I concentrate on touch. The magicite is smooth, warm. I run my fingers along each of its facets, engraving the image of the crystal into my mind. I can see it clearly now. The magicite starts to glow. I shift the whole of my perception to that light. I will the warmth to grow and spread. Soon, the glow consumes me. The channel is open; it's now time to speak.

Maduin! Can you hear me? Are you there, father?

Maduin! I have need of your strength! I need you, father.

Maduin! My foes are many. But I'm all alone...

Maduin! Hear me and heed my call! Please, father...

For long seconds there is nothing. Then I feel it. For one brief, glorious moment, I feel my father's presence. It's not light that surrounds me, but his soul. I called and he came. The light begins to take his form. I have so much I want to say, so much I need to feel, but I can already sense a pull on my consciousness. When my father comes forth to the physical world, I must go to the ether of the spiritual. Esper and summoner cannot co-exist.

But even as all sensation starts to fade, I can hear a voice echoing in my heart...

I love you, Terra.


Author's Note: I always thought there was something a little creepy about magicite. I mean, we're talking about fossilized, dead espers here. I thought it would be especially weird for Terra, but then again, maybe not...