Cleyran Dancers
By: Elizabeth Whittaker
Email: trinslayer@hotmail.com or maerlota@gmail.com


Copyrights

-Burmecia, Cleyra, the initial concept of Cleyran dancing and any reference to them are owned by Squaresoft/SquareEnix.
-Characters used from Final Fantasy IX (such as Freya Crescent, Puck, and some of the people in the two lands) are also owned by Squaresoft/SquareEnix.
-The concept of Espers are from Final Fantasy VI and Squaresoft/SquareEnix.
All original characters and their histories belong to Elizabeth Marion Whittaker, unless said otherwise in character credits. However, any ideas that are expanded off those initial things from the games are my own that I have came up with.

This is basically a glimpse and I realise my writing might be confusing to understand, so feel free to leave a comment if you need clarification.
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Prologue
Unsettlement in the Wind

Illendia panted as she completed her training, exhausted. After three months, she still could not pass the test to become a Cleyran dancer. She knew it would a high honor if her mother could acknowledge her as a Cleyran Priestess, not just a High Priestess' daughter. This burned in her heart, because she knew it was what her mother considered her as. And she could not let her mother know about her magical talent, of the Sight. After what had happened to the last magician in the Council, Illendia had decided she did not want to be a tool to the Council, like her friend.

She held up the dagger outwards again, taking another deep breath. She had to fulfill her promise to Ti'Mae, no matter how weak everyone thought she was. Illendia, despite wanting to keep her promise, was still rather upset with the girl, and knew that Ti'Mae nearly excelled in battle arts now. At one time, she did not, and had relied on magic to fight with . . . but that was an entirely different matter now that she had her family. Illendia saw it the moment she saw the girl hold that polearm of Freya's.

I have to do this, she told herself, swinging the dagger downward and twisting her leg so she could begin to spin. I will complete my training as a dancer. I will win against that bitch! Illendia dipped the small dagger down and used the other hand to thrust the other dagger at her 'assailant'. Ti'Mae is coming back soon, I know she is. And when she does, I'll challenge her. If I beat her, then Mother will be sure to recognise me!

"Training hard, Ill?"

Turning around sharply, her black braid nearly smacked into someone's face as she spun her wrist around, the dagger hitting a metal pole. The familiar clank and she let her guard down  . . . briefly. "Freya. What brings you here?"

"Unsettlement in the wind."

"Clearly cryptic as always, I see," Illendia muttered. "Have you come to meet your niece?" She sheathed the daggers in her scabbards before bowing to her, as a priestess always did to a high ranking warrior. "She can't run away forever, you know. She has to come home sometime." Raising herself to stand straight, Illendia's eyes looked at Freya's. "Mother will pass judgement."

Freya sighed. "I didn't come to talk to you about that, Illendia Syelah. I came to talk to you about your test tomorrow."

Illendia gulped. She had requested to the Wind Priestess Claire that she take the test, but she did not think it would be this soon. "Tomorrow?" The girl had to hold back her shaky voice.

"Yes, Illendia. I suggested that because I understand you have a bit of a conflict with Ti'Mae?" Her head cocked to the side, curious now. "You two haven't had conflicts before, so why now? Could it be perhaps that you wish her to return to Cleyra?"

Her dagger was unsheathed as she slashed it out at the older lady in anger. It met with her metal polearm again. "Shut up! What would you know about it!" Illendia had packed away a few steps and panted softly. "Do you know how much I--"

What the hell are you doing!? She screamed at herself. I can't tell Freya! God, she'd think me mad!

"Yes, I understand you have a bond with her, as does young Puck. However, Puck holds no grudges against her, but rather, her mother and yours." Illendia noticed that Freya stood there, collected as she voiced her opinions. "You, on the other hand, seem to have a grudge for her now newlywed husband and newborn. I sometimes wonder if you were in--no, that's impossible, but what other choice would there be to hate them unless you loved them?"

"Not that I loved them," Illendia muttered, looking at the ground. "It's--" She felt something smash into her chest and knock her on her back. "OWWW!" A gasp came out of her mouth as she struggled for air.

Freya stood overtop her, smirking. "Haven't you learned to never let your guard down?" The woman looked surprised as a tail snaked around her ankle and jerked her to the ground. "Oooomph!"

Illendia stood up, resheathing her weapon and looking down at the woman who had just lectured her. "And haven't you learned that the battle isn't over until someone gives up, old lady?"

"I'd save your energy though," Freya replied. "The girl Ta'Katrina has you fighting is quite . . . difficult."

"Hmmph. I'll see," Illendia grinned as she ran off, leaving Freya on the ground.
"Illendia!"

She turned around to see Freya struggling to get up. Shit, I think I pulled her ankle out of joint again. Illendia had walked back over to help the woman up and did not like the look in Freya's green eyes. "What is it, Freya? Is it Puck I'm fighting? I mean, I hope I don't kill the prince, cause I'd end up--"

"No, it's not that." Freya sighed. "Ta'Katrina has a mission for you, as a Priestess of Cleyra. If you complete it, you will be awarded the title of Cleyran Dancer. But I'm not sure you should take it."

"No matter what happens, Freya, I have to take it. I have to be equal to my mom!"
"Illendia, if you kill Ti'Mae tomorrow, you'll have what you wish."




She had remembered that now as she walked to the temple, to where any Burmecian went when they were summoned. She had butterflies in her stomach as she clenched onto her dagger. Illendia, who had once looked forward to this test, was now dreading it with all her being. Her clawed hands went to push open the doors, but someone else already opened them for her.

Her rose colored eyes were met with piercing emerald with black swirling in them. "Welcome, Priestess. So glad you could come." Illendia shuddered at the dark voice that emanated from her friend's mouth. "You think you can pass that test, for your silly, foolish pride?"

"What could a monster like you know about pride?" Illendia spat out, holding her dagger close to her for defense. "You hide behind a woman!"

"Despite my being bonded to Ti’Mae, I am still aware of the situation, should you kill her. Not only would you extinguish us, but leave a family helpless in their defense. Would you kill a woman for your fucked up pride?" The woman walked over to the wall and leaned against it, a black lock in the blue hair that hung down. Her eyes had no trace of life left in their blackened pools, Illendia saw. That part frightened her, that her eyes could change so quickly.

Illendia also thought that Ti’Mae having her hair down for a battle was a rarity. The most practical thing to do would be to braid it, like she did. But nonetheless, she would carry out her mother's orders. After all, I think I would save her family an atrocity then doing them a favor by letting her live.  "Despite that, I have my orders. It is written here," she said, opening the scroll she received the night before, "that a Ti'Mae Oakenflower Crescent, along with the Esper entity, Maerlota, are to be killed in said combat duel to receive the title of Cleyran Dancer."

“So, you still want to kill me, for your foolish pride?” the woman spat again, disgust in her voice as her hand swatted in Illendia’s direction. The scroll went out of her hand and landed on the cold, marble floor. The Priestess gasped.

“You hate us Espers so much that you would kill the friend inside to get to me?” The Esper, Maerlota, smirked once more as she walked over to Illendia and glared at her. “You really weren’t such a good friend, were you?”

Illendia sighed, swatting the woman away. “What’s that got to do with anything? I’m not talking to Ti’Mae, I’m talking to you, Maerlota.” The Burmecian brushed some hair out of her eyes, trying to keep her long bangs out of the way. “Besides, it would save her grief of having to have an abomination insi—“

“I’ll have you know that we are not ‘abominations’,” the woman growled, pulling herself to her and grabbing Illendia’s shoulders. “We are a race as well. When did you think that you could make yourself higher then you already were? As it stands,” Maerlota hissed, slamming her into the wall, “you’re already lower on the food chain then you were before. I’m sure there’s a greater evil that could vastly approach and wipe your home, your land, out from under you again.”

Illendia had winced, trying to break free of the claws that were digging into her shoulders. They were on them rather hard and she fought to remain in control, when she was rather scared. “I never said I was higher then you. I just said you were an abomin—“

“I—told—you,” the other screamed, “I am not an abomination, you bitch!

Illendia felt her head slam into the wall and she closed her eyes, screaming back in retaliation. There was nothing she could do, since fear had taken ahold of her. Her hair came out of the braid as she was yanked around and shook like a rag doll. The Priestess had wondered if her neck would snap soon enough, but Maerlota had stopped, now raising her up in a choke hold grip.

Her breath left her as her face flared up. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and the pain from the hold. It was hard to breathe in any air and she gasped, trying to take in a lungful. Maerlota’s hand came around it harder.

Well?! What have you to say now?!” The voice was loud to her ears.

“Let me—“ Illendia’s words were cut off as the hand tightened. She felt the claws dig at her neck now.

“Stupid bitch,” Maerlota muttered, throwing her down on the ground. “Perhaps I should wait until you are a dancer before I fight you. At least your friend is my equal.”

As she landed on the ground, Illendia panted for breath, trying to at least sit halfway up to meet the Esper’s deadened gaze. She knew if she killed her, she would become an equal to the Burmecian kingdom. She had to do this. It burned inside. And the thought of not being considered equal enough to Maerlota, the demonic Esper who made her race quiver, pissed her off. “I—I have to do it…”

“You can’t,” she growled once more. “I’ll give you until the dancer tournament to qualify as a dancer. I’m only going to wait so long for you to grow into a dancer, Illendia Syelah.”

The use of her full name made Illendia glare at her, her rose colored eyes swirling in anger. “Don’t address me like that, demon.”

“I’ll address you as I like, Priestess.” Maerlota went back over to the wall and leaned against it. “I’ll give you three days. That gives you enough time until the tournament.” As Illendia glared at her, she smirked again. “No more, no less. There’s too much treachery in these walls of the Council to consider any more time. Besides that, I feel an evil presence.” Her head now turned to Illendia. “I should suspect you know as well?”

Illendia nodded as she stood up, still breathing heavy. “You.”

“Look past your pride and your hatred, Priestess.” Maerlota seemed to be mocking Illendia as she called her that. “Look at the situation as it really is. Outsiders being allowed to compete in this years tourney all mean that something is bound to happen. They do not know the limits in which your kingdom fights with.”

“But outsiders were allowed years ago,” Illendia protested, clearing her throat. “Why is it that you have come, Maerlota? If it was to kill me, you could have done it already.”