She was screaming, but she didn’t know why. All she knew was that her hands felt dirty and her head itched and her throat burned from yelling wordlessly. There was more to it, so much more. Every muscle in her body seemed to ache from exhaustion. The oceanfront’s wet sand had somehow seeped into her boots, leaving her toes to somehow cope with a penetrating chill. And then there were the thoughts raging against her brain, thoughts she could not fight. It would be best to forget it all, she knew, but such a thing was surely impossible at that moment.

She screamed not out of fear or helplessness, but of frustration and anger and a pleading desire for all the contentment that she had been promised. Through all the things she had seen and done, through all she had suffered, she had put her friends first. Cid had given her life to her, and so she had striven to live for her own loved ones. They were all living happy lives somewhere, but what about her? Was it so wrong to want something more?

Where had she been? What had she been doing? She could not remember, only obsess and fret over the dysphoric sensations running through her entire body. It was like an itch she simply could not scratch, a pestering feeling that crept under her skin and even into her lungs, threatening to consume her-

Was this the madness that Kefka had known?

Her cries changed at that moment, and the tears came to her at last. She held her cape around her like a shawl, turning her head into the cold spring wind, and sobbed against the discomfort running through her veins.

stubbornvocalist started following you

Sweet Shiva, Celes, she told herself, stop staring.

The woman looked nothing like anyone the general had ever seen before (Celes noted cropped black hair, multiple piercings, and even a tattoo), but that was hardly an excuse for gaping. Her mouth was open as she watched - no, admired - the stranger curiously. The cold glint in those eyes was so very familiar to her own, without a single doubt. And suddenly, Celes found herself struck with the strangest of realizations: this woman is a musician.

She debated engaging in a conversation. After all, what if the woman didn’t want to be bothered? She seemed busy with her own collection of friends. But Celes had walked away from a career at the opera house after peace had been restored to her world, and she would not walk away from this. Music had played an important role in her life. Even before talking to this new person, Celes knew that that was one thing they surely had in common.

That thought alone gave her the courage to walk forward.

“Hello,” she said, smiling ever so slightly as she held out a steady hand to shake. “I’m Celes. Celes Chère. You… you’re a musician?”

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Books and maps of Avatis had long ceased to interest her. Snow was something of an infrequent companion, but Celes assumed that he spent most of his time with Serah. Understandable, of course. Setzer had been away, but Celes did not begrudge him for that. If anything, it brought her comfort to know that he was exploring the skies, giving himself something to do other than sit around here. Yes, she was jealous of him, but she would not have left Krinos even if he had asked her. She still felt a binding sort of obligation to the inn and the people living in it.

And so her days were spent in a haze of boredom and contemplation. Depression settled deeper and deeper into her mind as the days dragged on. One morning, she woke up and realized that she had not left her bed at all the previous day. She was hungry, but it was more of an inconsistent bother than a physical need. And it just wasn’t worth it to go down the stairs, to waste valuable foodstuffs on something that she would not enjoy. There was the possibility of encountering someone else, of being forced to hold conversation, to pretend that everything was all right despite her debilitating nightmares. She had a difficult enough time convincing herself that she was in no danger; no friend of hers would believe her.

But as she rolled over in bed, debating whether or not she would attempt once more to sleep, she heard a piercing scream from outside. Serah’s cries of terror had become something of a frequent occurrence… but this sound was unfamiliar to her. For some unknown reason, her heart began to pound and a sense of dread filled every corner of her brain. It took her several seconds to summon the energy to leave her bed, but she soon did so, grabbing her sword from a nearby armchair before running down the stairs and out the door.

There was a thick fog outside, complete with a sort of chill that she had never before felt at Krinos. She could not see more than ten feet in front of her. Even the nearby houses were nothing more than faint shadows. But someone needed her help. “Who’s there?!” she called out. She took deep, heaving breaths. The sensation of hunger completely left her; she felt only a horrible sense of unease. “Hello?!”

Another scream from off in the distance, but this one was different. While the first had sounded purely frightened, there was now a level of anguish in the tone. Celes did not move or speak a word. A man’s voice shouted, “No… no!” from directly behind her; she whirled around and saw only the inn that she had just left. Her eyes widened. She had the distinct impression that something was coming after her, that she was being hunted, but it was as if her feet were frozen to the ground. Terrified voices resounded from all around her, calling out through the heavy fog. Breathing heavily, she shouted against the noise, screaming the first name she could think of. “KAIN!”

“Leo.”

She reached out to him, hoping to feel even the slightest reassurance that he was truly there. She wanted so badly for him to exist once more. But the farther she extended her hand, the more he seemed to slip away. All the while, he smiled back at her serenely. Did he know how much she missed him, how much she needed him?

“Leo, I’m so afraid.” Only once before had she said those words to him. Of all the times they had gone into battle side by side, there had been but one instance where she had admitted fear to him. It had been during their mission to locate the Espers. The nature of her anxiety had changed little since then. She was still afraid of one thing: failure.

“These people expect things of me. They think of me as some sort of leader. You know I can handle authority, but… the responsibility for other lives…” She broke off and sighed, feeling tears sting at her eyes. “I wonder if I acted cold to my own troops because I wanted them to hate me. Maybe I wanted them to feel as little of a connection to me as possible. That way, if they died, I…” Why was this so difficult to say? Leo was dead and she knew it. He was (no, had been) her good friend. And the way he continued smiling at her made her suspect that he had known all of this for years. That was it, then. She was finding it hard to accept these truths about herself.

“I can never atone for the things I did in Maranda, or for not stopping Kefka while I had the chance. So many people died because of me. If the people here trust me, and I let them down…”

She blinked, and Leo was suddenly gone. As she fought back sobs, she couldn’t help but wonder when she would be able to speak with him for real.