Setzer anchored the airship outside Mobliz and descended to the sounds of squeals and laughter. Ten children appeared from the collection of broken houses at a dead run as Setzer exited the airship. His lips twitched in a brief smile, but he didn’t change his pace. The children--Cera, Robbie, Peter, Tyrian, Nate, Eddie, Samuel, Tanner, Will, and Alyxis--filed around him in a giggling mass of smiling faces as they grabbed at his hands, legs, and attention. Begging him to play, to carry them on his shoulders, to take them for a ride, to tell them a story, and a myriad of other adventures that could only be imagined in the minds of young children raised by a pure heart.
Setzer surrendered to a chuckle as he picked up Cera and Tyrian, blonde and brunette respectively, and proceeded forward to the house where he knew Terra would be dutifully guiding the older children’s studies. Robbie and Nate fought for the honor of opening the door, leaving the honor up for grabs for Peter as Eddie, Samuel, Tanner, Will, and Alyxis danced around in the space directly behind.
“Terra,” Setzer called between squeals and imploring entreaties to play. “Terra, would you be good enough to rescue me?”
The group of giggling children and chuckling adult made their way down the stairs of the main building, reaching the foot of those stairs just as Terra appeared through the doorway in the left section of the building. She smiled and moved forward, gesturing to the children to come away and “leave the poor man some room to breathe”. The girls and boys squealed with laughter, giving him hugs and promises before scampering away to games of the imagination. Setzer gave Cera and Tyrian each a kiss on the cheek before setting them on the floor and tousling their hair. Then he sent them on their way with a pat on the behind.
Terra watched the girls disappear up the stairs with a smile. Then she focused those violet eyes on Setzer. “Hello, Setzer. I’m glad you came again.”
“Don’t tell me you’re lonely amidst these children.”
Terra’s violet gaze lowered to the floor. She picked at a fingernail. “No. I . . . I just miss the faces of my friends.”
Setzer had begun to notice that loneliness seemed to darken her normally bright eyes on a more continual basis. “I’ll do my best to visit more often,” he promised.
Her timid smile softened the dark light in her eyes as she raised her gaze to meet his. “Thank you, Setzer. I love it when you and the others stop by.”
Setzer gauged her expression for a moment before gesturing for the stairs. “Would you care for a walk?”
“Let me tell the children.” Terra made her way back to the door, opened it enough to tell the studious pupils inside that they had permission to play, and then made her way back to Setzer’s side.
Setzer examined her profile as they ascended the stairs. “You do seem troubled, Terra. Are you certain everything is all right?”
“I . . . ” Terra bit her lower lip as she sent him a sidelong glance. “I’ve been having these bad dreams the past couple nights. M-Maybe that’s all?”
“Bad dreams? Such as?”
Terra tucked a stray lock of pale green hair behind an ear. Then she picked at another fingernail. “Sometimes I have dreams that I can fly again. Like I could before Kefka and the Statues were defeated. Sometimes I . . . I see the faces and bodies of all the people I k-killed when controlled by the Empire.” She sniffed, wiping the tears from her cheeks before continuing. “Sometimes I see the children being t-taken away by a man in black. I . . . I don’t understand what it c-could mean.”
Setzer opened the door to the main part of the house and ushered her past, then he tightly closed the door behind them. He placed an arm protectively about her shoulders. “Dreams can’t hurt you, Terra, and they rarely come true. Perhaps you’ve lived the reclusive life here too long? Perhaps you need to consider rejoining the rest of us?”
Terra lifted her gaze to meet his. “But this is our home. We’ve lived here for nearly 3 years. I can’t ask them to leave.”
Setzer smiled. “They’d live anywhere you do, Terra. You’re their new mother. Their new feeling of security and safety.” He gave her shoulders another squeeze. “At least give it some thought. I know the others wouldn’t hesitate to welcome you.”
“Alright. I’ll talk to Duane and Katarin and the others.” She sent him a sidelong glance as they made their way out into the early afternoon sun. “You seem different somehow, Setzer.”
Setzer chuckled, lowering his arm from her shoulders. “In what way?”
“I’m not sure. A little . . . happier? Less . . . gloomy?”
“Gloomy?” He met her eyes with a raised eyebrow. “I leave that particular expression for Shadow.”
Terra’s slight smile actually twinkled in her eyes. “Alright, so gloomy isn’t the right word. You still seem different.”
Setzer smirked. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”
Terra’s eyes darkened. “I’m not a child,” she told him in a troubled voice. She looked away. “Really. I’m not.”
Setzer noticed her entire persona changed to an almost inward examination. “No, I suppose you aren’t. To me, however, you will forever be the naïve Terra from our adventures.” He touched her cheek and drew her attention. “There is nothing wrong with being seen as nave or innocent, Terra. It is an entrancing aspect of your person that we wouldn’t want taken away.”
Terra looked away again, not speaking the statement or confusing paradox still mirrored in her eyes. Instead, she sighed and directed her gaze to the children ahead of the duo. The children played a game of tag, and many of them eagerly beckoned for Terra and Setzer to join.
Terra glanced back toward Setzer. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to play with them? They love it when you do.”
“Only if you promise to bring them aboard the Falcon this evening for dinner.”
“You know they’ll want to put on a performance.”
“You know I love it when they do.”
Terra allowed a slight smile. Then she pulled at the sleeve of his coat to draw him toward the children and their game, volunteering Setzer to be ‘It’. The children squealed with glee and scattered.