FicWad

The recognizable characters and places in this story are the property of Square/Enix. The thoughts, emotions, and all other aspects are my property. This will be divided into several sections of which this is, obviously, the first.
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The Exit

Nooj would soon be seventeen years old. By now, he was as tall as he would ever be, towering above his classmates. In the past few months, his chest had begun to broaden and it was evident to the knowledgeable eye he would be a big man, not heavily muscled but tall and strong with a body which would catch the attention of those who appreciated the aesthetics of anatomy. His hair had grown long and was caught up in formal braids with the curtain of a loose sidelock defining the right side of his face from brow to chin. At last, his face had become large enough to accommodate his features and he was handsome for the first time in his life, with a narrow high-bridged nose, wide dark eyes under level brows and a full, sensual mouth. The female cadets looked at him with flirtatious slantwise glances, wishing he were not already paired. Some of the males were forced to swallow their saliva as well.

This would be the last year of training before he would take his oath and become a Crusader. The past two years had been difficult and sometimes confusing, not because of the courses of study but from the problems he encountered adapting to the expectations of those about him. Nooj was a secretive, private person who did not willingly share his thoughts, let alone his dreams with others. It would be hard to imagine anyone less suitable for the discipline of a military school, yet he had not only managed to survive the first two thirds of the required schedule but had become the unchallenged leader of his class, the Cadet-Captain. This was due to his talent in the arts of war not his conviviality. Most of the students still at the Calm Lands Training Camp admired him to the point of idolatry for his feats of courage and endurance while his instructors took great pride in his mastery of the academic studies as well as for his formidable self-control.

One proof of his influence on his contemporaries had been the rash of minor to moderate misbehavior toward the end of the last term, such actions being designed to earn their perpetrator a flogging from the Head Trainer. Nooj had made an annual visit to the flogging horse in the Armory and the scarlet marks on his back had become a symbol of stoic unyielding pride which had prompted the envious to try for their own badges of honor. When the Commandant, Jounne, had realized what was causing the outbreak of offenses, he had banned thrashing in favor of the more shameful and less desirable punishment of ridicule. Those who behaved badly were required to wear pink uniforms with lace cuffs and jabots. And their swords were replaced with feather dusters. Discipline quickly returned to the camp. Thus the pattern of scars on Nooj's back remained unique. He was quietly pleased as he did not welcome competition in that area.

Another point of distinction for the young man was his companion animal, Nepetu. In his first year at the Camp, he had killed a pair of Queen Coeurls, orphaning their kit. Out of a sense of obligation and because he recognized in the animal his counterpart, he had tamed it and bound it to him with the unbreakable threads of loyalty, sleeping with it and feeding it from his own hands. It was his constant shadow and visiting officers often remarked on the spectacle of the tall lean youth and the now fully grown cat gracefully prowling the parade grounds in perfect synchronization.

Then there was Kaith. In a world in which life was short and sudden death always a likelihood, maturity was rapid. Most of the cadets had formed liaisons by the end of their second year and, for many, these connections persisted after training was complete. A surprisingly large number of infant Spirans were born to couples both of whom were full-time soldiers. Kaith and Nooj had been lovers since the beginning of their second year at the camp. He had permitted her more deeply into his history and personal life than any other human and she valued his confidence. As his second-in-command, she held a special place amongst the cadet corps and while many envied her few dared begrudge her the position at the side and in the bed of the leader.

Here at the start of the third and last year with his affairs nicely in order, Nooj stood poised to become a Warrior of great potential. He had chosen to set his sights on the Crusaders in order to avoid the more unpalatable duties of an officer in the regular Army, those which dealt with great masses of troops and the plotting of intricate strategy. The Crusaders were a more agile force, rewarding individual initiative and daring. Nooj knew he would be able to lose his life more quickly there and with a greater chance of losing it to Sin.

For Nooj was a Deathseeker, even though he was not yet branded with the term. He was firmly determined to die as soon as he could find a circumstance which would do honor to his family name and traditions. It was not an idle choice nor one made from despair or a false sense of bravado. It was one formed in the wake of personal tragedy but maintained rationally from then on. He knew he owed the Universe his death and intended in all honor to pay the debt. It was for this reason he had stuck though the problems at the Camp and had clawed his way toward his goal.

Only two individuals knew of his intention to die. He had told Kaith because in his loneliness he needed a confidant. Jounne had inveigled the truth out of him by catching him at his lowest point the previous year and offering reassurance when he most required it. There was no reason for any other to be trusted with the knowledge and so Nooj was able to go about completing his training as a Warrior with the comforting knowledge that he could escape from life in the background. It was always there but not always at the fore of his mind. It was like the sun or the coeurl, a reliable presence.

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The last furlough was beginning and the final year of training would start at ots end. Nooj had chosen to stay in the Calm Lands rather than return to his home island of Kilika. He had no close family remaining there, only an uncle - his mother's brother - who had little interest in fostering a difficult boy and who had packed him off to the mainland as quickly as possible. There were, of course, certain elders still living on Kilika who remembered a precocious lad and his incessant questions, but they also remembered unnerving stories about his mad exploits and the almost legendary tales of how he influenced the other children of the village to take risks beyond the ordinary and led them on ventures into danger. No, all in all, it was better for him to remain in a place where he could continue his explorations and studies at his own pace without the hindrance of overly conservative attitudes.

Kaith stayed part of the time at the nearly deserted camp with him both because she had no wish to go back to the social life which her own family would press upon her in their attempts to divert her from making a career as a Warrior and also because she needed to repair her relationship with her lover. They had been torn apart by a temporary madness which had seized him during the last year and his innate shyness was making the restoration more difficult than it had to be.

"Have I ever told you how much I like to look at you?" She traced the long muscles down his thigh, paused to tickle him in the sensitive area behind the knee and continued her journey of exploration to his lower leg, playfully kneading the bunched tissue at the calf before ending with a nip at his ankle. "You have the most gorgeous body of any male I've ever seen."

"And how many males have you seen as completely as you've seen me?" He queried with a mocking smile.

She looked up darkly from under her brows, "Oh, you might be surprised."

This time he laughed out loud. "Would I, you little vixen? Shall I make you pay for your infidelity?"

"Please sir, may I have some more?" She made a moue and, unable to contain herself, began laughing along with him. He stretched out his arm and caught her by the hair, pulling her head up to his waist.

"Feast, damsel!" He ordered, his voice thick with desire. "Take what is given you."

She grinned impishly against his belly, "That's beautiful, too. There is nothing about you ..." Then catching a certain glint in his eye, she hastily composed her features into dramatically subservient lines. "Yes, my lord," she whispered and bent to her task.

Nooj lay back, gently tracing the shells of her ears and the arch of her skull. He loved to feel the shape of her bones under the skin. When he traced them, he could imagine her a lithe figure of ivory, surrounded by a veiling of tissue, moving like a spirit, glowing with vitality. At times like this, he thought of the two of them as one being, fusing together into a unique entity beyond the commonplace. He was transported past himself into a realm of rapture which consumed him - if only for a time.

When he drew her up to his lips, he kissed her with an almost painful fervor. "Yevon! I've missed you.!" His arms tightened until she could hardly breathe.

"You say that every time now. I'm not going anywhere."

"I need to keep reminding myself so I won't do that again." He gently bit her ear lobe. "I'm always afraid I won't be able to ..."

"One time and you're worried. One time. I notice you're not having that problem today." She laughed confidently, reaching to touch him.

"So you did notice. I wasn't sure how to get your attention." With a rocking motion, he rolled atop her, pinning her to the moss. "Now, prepare to meet your doom."

In a shrill falsetto, she squealed, "Oh, spare me, my lord. You can't mean to ravish a maiden."

"You think not? You have a lot to learn about how the world works." He drove his knee between her thighs and pressed his advantage. "Aha, so you have remembered, have you?"

With a contented sigh, she wrapped him in her arms and twining her legs around his hips gathered him to her.

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"I'm glad you didn't lose all patience with me and keep away," Nooj ran an affectionate finger down her nose and over her lips. "You had every right to abandon me after the way I behaved." He continued the light stroking across her collar bone and around the swell of her breasts. When he reached her nipples, she arched her back to encourage him.

They were lying relaxed, their heads pillowed on the flank of the coeurl cat which had become tolerant of the follies of his humans. The air was soft so they were in no hurry to resume their garments, instead opting to enjoy the feel of the gentle breeze drying the sweat on their skin.

"You are an idiot, Nooj. I would never have left you. You just went a little crazy for a little while. I understood." Kaith turned slightly and returned his caress. "Um, I do love to look at you."

"So you mentioned earlier." He replied with a smile. "And I find you a pleasant sight, as well." By now, his hand was resting on the curve of her hip, creating a spot of warmth which radiated throughout the area. "From the first time I saw you ..."

"Hah! You didn't want me as your second." She tweaked him in a sensitive place. "You didn't think I was good enough." Her fingers poised for another onslaught.

"Stop before you start something." He caught her wrist and held it between them. "I'm not that good at resisting temptation."

Kaith closed her eyes, trying to recreate the image of her lover behind her closed lids. She had decided she must memorize the way he looked so that she would have it when he was gone. This time of leisure between sessions would pass quickly; she must go and spend a few weeks with her family, then the final year of training would begin. At the end of that, they would be separated to their assigned units and she knew, deep within her, she would never see him again. He would find his Death and that would be the end of it. Oh, she might catch a glimpse of him on the FarPlane but that was all. So she needed to burn into her mind the way he was now, the grace and elegance of his body, the long well shaped limbs, the ease of his stride, all the things which made him who he was and would vanish when he dissolved into pyreflies. At the thought, tears stung behind her lashes and leaked to trickle down her face.

With a feeling of both surprise and resignation, Nooj saw the moisture on her cheeks. He wiped it away with his thumb. "Don't do that, Kaith. There's no point in it."

She clung to him in desperate need. "I don't want to go home. I want to stay with you as long as I can." She hiccoughed pathetically.

He rubbed her shoulders, "It's just a couple of weeks. You owe them that. Then we can be together the whole year. You'll see. I'll sneak you into my bed in the barracks. Did you forget? This year I get a private room because I'm the Senior Cadet Captain."

She sniffled and managed a grin. "Is the bed big enough for you, me and Nepetu all?"

"We'll work something out." He kissed her and moved to embrace her again.

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Nooj had moved though his first two years of training with an almost imperial indifference to his fellow students. Unlike most of the others, he had never felt the need to surround himself with supporters and sycophants. As a result he had not made friends amongst the cadets, being satisfied to be respected and admired but not loved. Only Kaith had been permitted to pierce the wall he maintained between himself and the mass of other persons. So when she had left the camp to visit her family during the furlough, he was alone save for the great cat which paced always at his side.

There were a few other students who had either stayed or come back early for one reason or another but they were hesitant to approach the forbidding figure of the Senior Captain, fearing his scornful eye and caustic tongue. Soon enough some of them would be serving either with or under him and they were willing to wait for the pleasure.

Nooj stalked the wide meadows and plains of the Calm Lands without consideration of the dangers involved. He was, rightly, convinced the presence of Nepetu would be sufficient to deter most fiend attacks and the two of them together could dispatch any creature stupid enough to launch itself at them. Although the coeurl had never developed the devastating Kill technique of others of its kind, it was heavy and fierce enough to be more than a match for any feral animal they were likely to meet.

The two of them frequently wandered great distances from the camp and slept rough on the open range under the two moons and the uncountable stars, wrapped only in the warm night air. It was during such times that Nooj was able to begin to formulate his expectations for his future. He did not expect it to be long.

So it was he sat, his arms loosely folded on his bent knees, Nepetu sprawled at his side, and gazed with unseeing eyes across the gaping chasm toward the mountains in the distance.

For more than a decade, he had known with absolute certainty that Death awaited him and at no great remove. It was only a matter of finding and greeting the icon of his completion. Until lately, he had more than half believed he was already dead. Now he was convinced he lived but found himself ever more eager to rectify that condition. It seemed to him that as he grew older, the image of Death grew more seductive, more desirable but still kept the background buzz of unreality, like a woman who was surpassingly provocative but quite out of reach.

He knew he would enter the Crusaders as a junior officer, given his rank and commendations during his three years at training camp. That did not exactly suit his plans. He would have preferred going in as an ordinary soldier and being able to chart his own course, to a degree, without having the responsibility of others on his head.

He sighed deeply. Since the catastrophic event of this first year, he had been uncomfortable issuing orders although his duties required him to do so. Still, it would be far better if he could find his place to die without the nuisance of preventing others from accompanying him into Nothingness.

He knew the death he sought must be limned by honor. He would not accept it on any other terms. And he was somehow certain he would be able to choose. His relationship with Death remained a peculiar one, in which desire and dread embraced in an uncomfortable fellowship.

So he sat on the edge of the Calm Lands, preparing himself for what would come. He did not believe in the FarPlane and anticipated nothing after he had ceased to breathe. The comfort he would find lay in Nothingness, on the other side of the door which passed through Sin.

He laid his head on his arms and let himself drift into the darkness which was a poor simulacrum of that deeper darkness for which he knew himself to be destined.