As the group gradually found their way out of the Black Magic Forest, they could see the outline of the old familiar city, New Alexandria.
“It…feels like I’ve been gone for a long time, but I’ve only been gone two days…,” Pharda said.
“Your home is near here?” Tempest asked.
“Yeah, in Garland Town…where my mother…,” his voice felt choked.
A hand touched his shoulder, it was Andomiel, “We’ll never forget…,”
As they walked through the old town, Pharda reminisced and told them of his overall happy childhood, how he and Andomiel grew up best friends together, although Andomiel had lived in a nearby orphanage until Deanna Beolve adopted him. Pharda had felt like he had gained a brother then. And the feeling was mutual.
A lump seemed to grow in Pharda’s throat when he said, “Let’s go visit her…she’ll probably want to know what’s happened lately…,”
Urd seemed to notice the rise in Pharda’s feelings at this point, “Pharda, where are you getting your strength from?”
The group seemed to relax slightly, as this was a small town, no danger to be worried about, but Fenris, who was usually talkative remained silent. Rose spoke with him.
“Why is everyone so quiet? This is just an ordinary town, isn’t it?”
Fenris, looking rather pensive, replied, “I suppose, not having anyone to care for to begin with, you wouldn’t recognize the value of someone being lost…,”
That hurt. And Rose prepared to say something in defense of it, but kept silent. She had lost something, she only forgot what it was…
Fenris turned and looked away, then abruptly apologized, “Sorry…you see, this was the first place we encountered Alt….I mean…her…it killed Pharda’s mother and burned the house to the ground…all he has left is his sword and his memories, that’s why everyone is so somber.”
Rose smiled, “It’s alright…I know what it’s like to lose someone…I lost myself…”
As the group approached the grave where their quest literally began. Pharda began to speak, as if to his mother.
“Hey mom, just thought I’d drop by and say hello…I’ve met all these friends lately and I’m still not sure where we’re going, but…I do promise you this…I will avenge you, mother…as a Beolve…and a descendant of Ramza Beolve I will defeat her…even if it takes a lifetime…,”
Then Pharda said something unexpected, which even caught Strife’s eye.
“…If we should fail…please don’t be mad at us…if God doesn’t want us on this mission, then let me know…I…I’m still looking for dad…I don’t know where he is…I hate him…God, I hate him…why’d he leave? He could’ve protected you! He could’ve been there when I…was born…I don’t care about these stupid prophesies!!!”
At this Pharda threw his katana and it stuck in a nearby tree. He dropped to his knees.
“I just want my parents back!!!” He lowered his face to her gravestone and began to weep.
A hand grasped the hilt of his katana, and firmly placed the edge in the ground nearby.
“Avenging you’re mother won’t bring her back…,” The voice was steely cold, he knew who it was.
“What then, damn it! What!” he shook his fist in a rage, but silence continued to fill his ears.
“…You need a better reason than that…,”
“And like you would know how I FEEL!!” Rage seethed in his voice.
Something more than steel filled the feminine voice that answered his cry of rage, “I…lost my parents too…but that’s not the reason I’m going after her. I made a promise to the future generations…that no more blood would be shed…,”
A softer voice, one that soothed him also replied, “I made a promise too, but it wasn’t to save their lives…it was to save…yours, Pharda,”
“Tempest? Urd?” his eyes were clouded with tears.
“You fight for others, not yourself, not to quench your own feelings...”
“I’ve been like a brother to you, Pharda, I’m sticking with my brother…,”
“I may not be related to you, Pharda, but you have a Dragon’s heart.”
“You’re not quitting so easily now are you? I’ll give you a sharp pointed reason not to quit, you’re my ticket to getting my memory back.”
“Strife…Andomiel…Fenris…Rose…I…guess I forgot why I was fighting…,”
“Don’t ever forget why you fight your battles, that is the difference between victory and defeat.”
Rising up from his mother’s grave marker, Pharda said one parting statement, “I’m sorry mother, I cannot fight for you alone…I must fight for the sanctity of this world…and that means finding the Crystal…,”
“It is good that you’ve finally realized your mission, Pharda…,”
“Mother?” Pharda spun, taking in an odd spectral form of his mother.
“Don’t be frightened, I wish only to encourage you, son…”
“Encourage…me? But how can I see you when…?”
“Your heart cried out to me and I came…I miss you too son, but even though we aren’t physically together, I’ll always be with you, so don’t get discouraged. Be the brave warrior I raised you to be and don’t be afraid of Altima, you will defeat her, I know it! Find the shards and reassemble the crystal…not just I, but the world is counting on you…,”
As the visage of his departed mother faded he screamed, “Mother….don’t---,”
“--go-Ahhh!?”
Darkness…
A candle lit up the room…it was Urd, and Pharda had slept near where his old bed used to be.
“Where?!”
“You wept yourself to sleep…we had to literally carry you off your mother’s grave and put you in a tent, but then you slept-walked over here…I’m worried…,”
“Night…,”
“Yes…is…is this where you used to sleep, when the house was still here?” She surveyed the wreckage, now boards and ashen wood.
“Yeah…,” he said looking around, “This was my old room…I don’t know how I got here, I didn’t think I’d recognize it after rummaging through the house when we found the weapons…”
“Are you…alright, Pharda?”
“I…saw mom…,”
“What?”
“Yeah, I saw mom, she had this pretty dress on, she looked so young and vibrant…like she was an angel…she promised me she’d never leave me…or something…do you think it was just a dream?”
“No…if you could remember it so vividly it couldn’t have been a dream. Did she say anything else?”
“She said she missed me too…and that I really shouldn’t seek vengeance for her…I think I understand now…what the true spirit of the Samurai is…”
“Pharda…?”
“The spirit of the samurai is not about death, it transcends death to life, all the lives that have passed carrying my Murasame didn’t die in vain, they live on in me…even as I hold the blade.”
Another candle moved forward, showing a glimmer of Strife’s face, “That is correct: the true spirit of the samurai respects all life, even the passing of life. His mission is the protection and preservation of all life.”
Looking down, Pharda noticed he had clenched his katana the entire time, even in his sleep.
“I think it’s time, Strife,” he said looking up at the warrior, “Time to go to Alexandria…,”
