Ch. 8: Sabin (Part 2)
The words had no effect on Vargas, who was already enraged beyond reason. He heard only what he wanted to hear. "That is why my father was such a fool to choose you! I was clearly the leader, and yet he chose a third-rate follower as his successor!"
Sabin could sense Vargas's anger increasing, and his own suddenly built up. But he forced himself to keep it in, thinking of the Master, knowing the Master would have wanted to avoid a confrontation. He turned back to face the other man. "Vargas, just listen to me!" he exclaimed in a final attempt to let him see that it was the truth he spoke.
"Enough of your lies! We fight to see who deserves to be called Master! To the death!"
With a heavy heart, he knew all that Vargas wanted was revenge. "If the truth won't turn you, then so be it!" Sabin shouted.
Vargas laughed, a hoarse, throaty laugh that built in volume until it became almost insane. "Now have a taste of my superior technique! Mortal Attack! Blizzard Fist!"
His body began to glow with a pale blue light, increasing in intensity and color until it was a dark blue, blinding flash. Vargas brought both his hands up carefully, and a breeze began to blow. As his hands were lifted higher and higher, the winds blew harder and harder. The other four tried to keep their footing, but the gale proved too much for three of them and they were blown away into a cave like dead leaves.
Sabin rooted himself, placing his feet firmly apart and raising his arm to protect his face. The wind stung his eyes but he managed to hold most of his ground. Then the winds lessened, and he opened his eyes.
He almost gasped at the scene he saw before him. The power Vargas had gathered was now concentrated around his right hand, so intense as to be an almost deep purple. He raised his arm up and back, then pushed it forward so suddenly that had Sabin blinked, he would have missed the movement. He felt powerful punches at his face and chest, so fast that he could neither defend himself nor avoid them, or even see where they were coming from. And each time he was hit, he had the sensation of a light breeze blowing past his body. It were as though the power of the wind he'd just experienced had been gathered into a ball, and that it was now striking him.
The onslaught forced Sabin to his knees, breathless and slightly weary. But he soon recovered enough of himself, and he looked up at his opponent.
Vargas gave him a contemptuous smile and shook his head. "Ah, Sabin! The master taught you well!"
He stood up again. "I guess there's no avoiding this!"
"Fate made us train together, and fate will send you to your doom!"
This time a black aura began to glow about Vargas's body, alarming Sabin. He prepared to defend himself, but the other man was much faster, and he flung out his hand before Sabin could react. Another blow, this time to his head. He felt dizzy, then quickly regained his balance. But he could feel himself getting weaker.
"Phew...I tire of this! Let's see how long you can last against THAT!" He crossed his arms and laughed.
With a shock, Sabin realized what technique Vargas had used. "Doom Punch!" he exclaimed. "The Technique of Evil! How did you learn this? The Master would never teach this to anyone!"
"Of course not!" Vargas sneered. "He was too good for his own good. I learned it myself. Now you see why I am truly the Master?"
Sabin was angry, but he didn't want to kill Vargas if he could help it. He launched himself at the man, but he fought half-heartedly, alternately slashing with the claw weapon he wore on one hand and punching with his bare fist.
Vargas, however, had no such scruples. He attacked fast and furiously, often taunting, "Come on, Sabin! There's no going back!" He countered one of Sabin's blows and then hit again. "Come on, what's the matter?" Vargas stood back and sneered. "And the Master chose you! What a joke! Time to put an end to this!"
Sabin was kneeling on the ground, wheezing. He mustn't let Vargas win...It had become more than just revenge for the Master's death, it was now a battle to save the rest of the disciples from the wicked techniques that the Master had tried so hard to keep from the rest of them, and that Vargas had now somehow learned.
He closed his eyes. "The Master's teachings...must use a Blitz technique..." A simple yet powerful one rose to mind. He concentrated, gathering his inner spirit, the pure spirit that would always, in the end, triumph. Carefully he got to his feet, raising his arms in much the same fashion as Vargas had. But only a white aura glowed about his body. A bright, momentary flash appeared at Sabin's fingertips, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a yellow area just below Vargas's throat. He leaped forward quickly and unleashed the Pummel Blitz on that area, hitting less than Vargas's Blizzard Fist but much more powerfully.
Vargas defended himself, but the attack hit a completely different area. The first blow surprised him. A few more hits, and he was stunned. A few more...his legs suddenly gave out, and he crashed to the ground. He was taken completely by surprise, never even dreaming that he even had a weak point, or that Sabin could discover it so quickly, or that he could be downed in such few hits. He looked up at his opponent, standing over him with fists clenched and arms at his sides. The pain was etched on the fallen man's face.
"He...already taught you that?!" he gasped out. A spasm shot through his body, and he shuddered. He recalled one of his father's teachings. Duncan had spoken about a technique the exploited an opponent's weak spot. Instead of spreading the attack all over the body, the technique detected the opponent's weak spot and concentrated on that.
Sabin could feel his strength returning. He knew that with the death of his adversary, the effects of Doom Punch would be removed. Normally this fact would have relieved him, but now it was a foreshadowing of what was soon to come. He shut his eyes briefly, then opened them. "If only you you hadn't been in such a rush for power...You could have learned all the techniques as well, instead of training your energy for evil...Remember what the Master said? Everyone has all the Blitzes learned and stored somewhere deep in their consciousness...It just takes time and experience for you to realize the power you have and to bring it into the open...Vargas, you could have been the new Master..." Sabin's voice was soft.
The other man lay there, gasping for breath. He tried to get up, but fell back onto his side. His breath became more labored as he rolled onto his back. A gasp, and then, nothing.
Sabin stood over the body, his eyes closed, remaining silent to pay his final respects to Vargas. A short eulogy ran through his mind. A fine man...strong...hardworking...He remained like that for awhile, regretting what he'd been forced to do, yet knowing that there had been no other alternative. The man had been stubborn to his false beliefs, and that led to his death. He shook his head, still thinking that there might have been something he could have done to prevent this.
He was so involved with his own thoughts that he jumped a bit when a voice behind him exclaimed, "Sabin!"
Surprised, Sabin quickly turned around. For the first time, he really saw the three faces he had briefly encountered before his battle. He looked from one person to another, surveying them carefully: a young woman with unusual hair... Locke, looking rather rough, the same as always...and Edgar. "Big brother??" he asked in shock.
The king took a few tentative steps forward, and they looked each other over. Edgar could feel tears welling up in his eyes despite himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was choked. "It's so good to see you again, Sabin. It's been such a long time..."
In the silence that followed, his twin's eyes misted over as well. They had parted in haste, and perhaps with angry words, but the passage of time seemed to have done something to them, as both their thoughts shifted back to that night, then on to happier times. A slow grin came across Sabin's face as those memories ran through his mind.
Locke stepped forward and glanced from one twin to the other, and he nodded. "The brothers are reunited!" he exclaimed. "Or, at least, so we hope?"
Terra came up with a skeptical expression. "Younger...'brother'??" she asked incredulously. "At first glance I thought he was some bodybuilder who had strayed from his gym!"
The two men laughed, but Sabin was slightly insulted. "Bodybuilder? Me? How can you mistake a martial artist for a bodybuilder?" He flexed a bit, revealing his muscles, then he laughed heartily. "I guess you're right. I'll take that as a compliment...But who are you, anyway?"
"This is Terra," Edgar replied before she could respond to Sabin in kind. "She was a prisoner of the Empire, her thoughts controlled by a Slave Crown. And...she can use magic!"
She looked rather abashed at this statement, but it seemed to have no effect on Sabin. "Magic, huh? So you must have been the one who set that Ipooh on fire. I tried to put it out, but it wouldn't. I knew it had to be magical."
"You're not...angry?" Terra asked in surprise.
Now Sabin was surprised as well. "No. Why would I be? Mt. Kolts has been so overrun with monsters lately, I'm glad there's one less that we have to worry about."
Terra merely bowed her head and made no other reply as Edgar spoke. "Anyway, we're on our way to the Sabil Mountains," he said.
"To the Returner hideout, no doubt?" his brother guessed.
Edgar nodded. "Even Figaro's defenses won't hold up very long against Magitek, and the castle can't stay buried forever. We simply have no means of combating magical weapons. But if we have Terra's help, we might be able to pull something off."
Sabin was a bit dubious. "You think she can really help?" he asked rather tactlessly. Terra, about to retort, was once again interrupted, this time by Locke.
"We were attacked by Magitek while we were escaping Figaro," Locke informed him. "Without Terra, I don't think we would have made it..."
"The bottom line is that we need to get Terra to Banon as quickly as possible. Will you join us?" Edgar asked.
Sabin faced his brother, his voice hard. "I've been watching from afar, hoping that the world might regain some sanity, but it's spiraling downward a lot faster than any of us can keep up with. At this rate, Figaro will be reduced to a puppet state. And you're in even greater danger because you helped one of their key prisoners escape. The Empire will have no mercy once they catch you."
Edgar shook his head, then stood looking out over the ledge, out at the land that was still beautiful. "Our time to strike back has arrived. We can't afford to wait any longer. The Empire's going to pay for what it's done..."
"Do you think you can really make some difference?" his twin countered. "Granted, Terra may have magic, but how will that help against an army of a thousand magical weapons? You're living in a dream, brother!"
"Then at least we can say to the world that we tried, that we didn't just sit back and do nothing while the Empire ravaged the land," Edgar shot back. "Unlike others who remain hidden away in the mountains and just watch!"
Sabin made no reply for a few moments, then he suddenly threw back his head and laughed. "Edgar, you're the same stubborn, worrisome old fool," he said merrily. "I'm glad to see that you're committed to your purpose. So...you think a 'bear' like me could help you in your fight?"
Edgar swiveled around. "You...will join us?" he asked uncertainly.
"Of course!" his brother replied. "I just like being purposely aggressive. Besides..." His voice softened. "I think Duncan would rest easier if he knew his disciple played a part in bringing peace to the world."
"Then it's settled!" Edgar exclaimed. The twins grinned at each other.
The other two came up. "Let's get going," Locke urged. "The Empire could catch wind of us at any minute. Who knows what spies might be around here?"
"Point taken," Edgar said.
A quick survey showed not many wounds suffered during the confrontation with Vargas, not even on Sabin. They traveled quickly through a small cave, then through a mountain pass leading down, and they found themselves on the ground again.
The pass led into a small valley, the Sabil Mountains towering on either side of them, the floor green with grass. Sabin led the group north, dodging Rhodoxes and Rhinotaurs. On the way, the men briefed Sabin on what had passed so far.
When they finished the story, the martial artist looked at Terra with interest. "So you're the sorceress I've been hearing rumors about," he said. "But I wonder why they had to use the Slave Crown on you? I've heard stories of the Emperor being so charismatic he brainwashes the soldiers just with his presence. They could have easily done the same with you."
Terra shook her head. "I don't know why. I...I don't even remember how I got there in the first place..." Her voice trailed off.
Sabin felt a little guilty for causing her such obvious anguish. "I'm sorry," he told her in a low voice. "Don't worry about it, okay? We're all here to help."
Suddenly he pointed up. "There it is," he announced.
The entrance to a cave lay on a small ledge a few feet above the ground. A sentry stood guard, who looked at the group suspiciously until he recognized Locke and Edgar. The group climbed up, and the sentry stood aside to let them pass. They were finally at the Returners' hideout.
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This chapter last updated April 27, 1998
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