Please Don't Hate Me

[01.30.01] » by Negative Creep

<i> Where..................where am I? What am I doing here? </i>

The Black Mage awoke to pain and flowers.

<i>Am I even here? Do I even exist? What's going on?</i>

The only signs of how he had gotten there were shattered pieces of lumber

scattered through the grass. It

looked like a barrel had exploded or something........

<i> Wait......how do I know what a barrel is? Or any of this? </i>

Getting to his feet, the lone black mage looked at the sky. Birds soared

through the cerulean, utterly oblivious

to the dilemma plaguing the little black mage below. A butterfly drifted in,

settling delicately on the mage's

hat.

<i> Maybe someone will know where I belong.............but are there any

other people here?</i>

A signpost sagged at a crazy angle nearby. The little mage spotted it and

stumbled over, reading it carefully.

<i> Li....Lindblum.....</i>

Further on ahead, high up on a hill, the mage could see what appeared to be

a huge castle of sorts.

<i> The sign's pointing that way...maybe that's Lindblum. Maybe someone

there will help me....</i>

Adjusting his hat carefully and hitching up his pants, the black mage set

out for the castle. Luck seemed to

be with him; he went unmolested by man or mist monster.

<i> Yes, I'm sure someone will know me here. It's very pretty. And very

big.</i>

The mage approached the gates of Lindblum with a slightly more cheerful

attitude. Surely someone would

know who he was, and where he belonged. At the least he could rest

somewhere; the nonstop walking had

taken it's toll on the small mage's legs, not used to the exertion of

walking so far. He passed a posted map;

evidentially Lindblum was home to things called "air cabs" that would take

him to his destination.

Going through the gate, he noticed that the watchman gave him a funny look,

staring at him fearfully. Not

knowing what the expression meant, the mage gave him a timid smile and

shuffled onward, towards the

elevator that would take him to the upper levels and the city.

****

Just as the map had said, the elevator took the little black mage straight

to the air docks. Other than

stumbling when getting off the lift and falling flat onto his face, the trip

went uneventfully. The only strange

thing was that several more people had stared at him in the same way the

first watchman had. Everyone

seemed to want to look at him as he walked by.

<i>That's strange..............maybe I look like someone they know. </i>

Almost as soon as it took off the air cab halted. Stumbling slightly, but

making sure not to trip this time, the

black mage stepped off the cab and wandered out onto the streets of

Lindblum.

At once, he was struck by how many people wandered about the town. There

seemed to be hundreds of

them, all moving at once. How would he ever find someone to help him in this

din? But he had to start

somewhere. Timidly he pulled at the sleeve of one important-looking man.

"Ex-excuse me........I'm lost, and..."

The man didn't even look down, so absorbed was he in his own business.

Sighing, the mage looked around for

his next target. He spotted a young man sitting on a pile of bricks nearby

who didn't look very busy. Sucking

up all his courage, the little black mage walked up to him and began to

speak.

"Excuse me sir......."

The young man looked up with an impatient expression at the mage. The

expression immediately turned to

horror as he realized to what he was speaking. With a bloodcurdling scream,

the youth leapt up and began

screaming and pointing at the black mage as if all the hounds of Hell were

behind him.

At first, when the man looked at him, the mage had thought that a

breakthrough had been made. Even when

the young man pointed and shrieked the little mage didn't worry; he assumed

it was from recognization. But

the longer the man's yelling and pointing went on, the more apprehensive the

black mage became. When more

people began to turn and look at him, he felt the stirrings of something

deep inside. Something he had never

felt before.

He was scared.

A crowd of people began to congregate around the pair. The small mage, by

this time VERY apprehensive,

scanned the crowd, looking for a kind face, a sympathetic onlooker -- anyone

to get him out of the spotlight.

Instead, all he saw were angry, bitter faces.

<i>Why are they all so mad at me? I haven't done anything.........</i>

The mage opened his mouth to speak these innocent thoughts, but his words

were drowned out by a yell from

the crowd.

"It's one of THEM!!"

That seemed to unleash the floodgates. Suddenly everyone seemed to be

yelling at once.

"You bastard!!"

"Monster!! You killed my sister!!"

"My home is in ruins because of you!!"

Now the mage was petrified. He didn't know why these people were yelling so

loudly at him, but it couldn't be

good. This had to be a case of mistaken identity. Once again he opened his

mouth to explain, but his small

voice was drowned out in the wilderness of angrily blazing voices.

A large stone whizzed by the brim of the black mage's floppy hat, hitting

the ground with a loud crack. Then

another was thrown, and another. With a whimper, the mage tried to shield

himself from the onslaught, but

that wouldn't work for long; several people in the crowd were picking up <i>

bricks.</i> An especially heavy

chunk of stone hit the little mage square in the chest, knocking the wind

out of him and toppling him to the

ground. Before he could get to his feet again, someone gave him a sharp kick

in the ribs.

"Monster!! Heartless monster!!"

"Let's crush it's head in!!"

Whimpering, the mage raised his head and looked at the crowd once again.

<i> ..........Wh......why are they hurting me? Don't they know what they're

doing?</i>

Fear and panic born of the pain surged through the little mage's body. Not

really knowing what he was doing,

the mage stumbled to his feet unsteadily and raised his arms, palms

outstretched to the crowd. Before any

of them could react, a ball of flame had left his raised hands and was

skipping merrily over their heads. With a

united screech, the angry mob scattered like a flock of dissident sheep.

Using the momentary panic to his advantage, the black mage turned and ran as

fast as his aching body would

carry him in the other direction. Fleeing blindly into an alleyway, the mage

tripped and fell headlong into the

darkness, knocking his head in the process. Everything went black.

****

The little mage woke to an amalgam of pains. Everything seemed to ache - his

legs were sore, he had a large

bump on his head, and there was a sharp pain stabbing him in the ribs every

time he took a breath where the

man had kicked him. Worse than that all was the anxiety he now felt. Would

those people come and hunt

him down? Would they hurt him again?

<i> Why did they want to hurt me? And how did I make that stuff come from my

hands? </i>

Footsteps echoed down the alleyway; someone was coming in his direction.

With a fearful whimper, the mage

curled up tighter and tried not to move, hoping that whomever it was

wouldn't notice the small, still figure in

the shadows. A sharp pain sliced through his ribs, and the mage couldn't

stifle a cry.

The passing figure stopped and turned in his direction.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

The figure walked closer, and the mage realized that it was nothing more

than an old man. His hair

was frosty white, and stood out in contrast to the damp darkness of the side

alley. He was leaning heavily

on an oaken staff, staring straight at the little mage.

"Are you alright? Do you need help?"

The mage hesitated to speak, still stunned from his ordeal, but the old man

looked kind, and he was alone.....

"I- I was lost and I asked for he-help, and then they.....they hurt me..."

The old man looked puzzled and peered closely at the mage. A look of

recognization passed over his face.

Another emotion also seemed to pass over his features, but was quickly

pushed away.

"Oh. Hrmmm. People are funny sometimes, y'know. Are you hurt?"

The little mage nodded.

"Well then, you come with me and we'll have you fixed up in no time."

By this time all doubt about this kind stranger had been wiped away. The old

man was going to help him;

maybe he could even help the mage recover his memories. Stumbling to his

feet, trying to ignore his aching

body, the black mage followed the old man out of the alleyway and down a

side street.

<i> What a nice guy!! I wonder where he's taking me.......</i>

After what seemed hours to the mage, the old man stopped his plodding at a

small house near the gates of

the city. An equally old woman came to the door to greet him; when she saw

the mage surprise and a twinge

of fear crossed her face.

"Well well, I didn't know we'd have visitors tonight......" she glanced at

the old man with a look of confusion

"...........but please, do come in."

The little mage straightened his hat and smiled politely at the woman, who,

although still confused-looking,

managed to smile back. As the mage went on into the house, the old lady

walked up to the man and hissed

in his ear.

"What do you think you're doing bringing one of <i> those</i> back with

you?!"

The old man turned his back on his wife and went into the house without

answering her, shoulders slumped.

*****

After a delicious meal cooked by the old woman -- the first he could ever

remember having -- the little mage

was shown to a small bedroom for the night. The old man's name, he found

out, was Tim. The old woman's

name seemed to be Grandmother; the black mage thought it sounded odd, but he

wasn't one to speak --

after all, he didn't even have a name. He had told the two all about his

troubles, and Tim had promised to help

him find out where he belonged the next day. With a happy sigh, the little

mage sank into the feather bed and

drifted off to sleep.

In the storeroom next door, the two elderly residents were having a heated

discussion.

"I tell you, this is too dangerous!!" the old woman snarled, wringing her

leathery old hands in anxiety. Tim,

busy filling a sack with loose bricks, glared back at her with a manic gleam

in his eyes.

"I tell you, it's the same one!! The same one that killed our Jason!! I

won't let the little bastard get away with

it!! Burned him bloody ALIVE, he did!!"

Tears came to the old man's eyes, and he wiped them away with an impatient

hand.

"No, my soul won't rest until I have revenge. For Jason -- I'll make him

suffer. Now, hand me that club over

there."

The old woman gave a great sigh and handed Tim a large nail-studded club,

usually reserved for killing

rats. Dried rust and blood were caked on the tips, giving the old weapon a

sinister look in the firelight. Taking

the club in one hand and the large sack in another, the old man approached

the bedroom where the black

mage slept.

**

The mage didn't wake up until it was too late.

He woke to the feeling of movement in darkness, throbbing pain in his head,

and a small space, not unlike

the barrel he had been in before.

<i>............Wait............when was I in a barrel?</i>

The small, dark space, the feeling of being moved from one place to another

-- it all came back to him then.

<i>I was in a barrel........there were lots of us all

together............couldn't move.......could hardly

breathe</i>

His train of thought was abruptly derailed by a sickening sensation, as if

he had just been flung into space.

Then a great wet smacking sound. What was going on out the--

<i> Wait....why are my clothes wet? And why does it feel like I'm

sinking?</i>

Water began to soak through the wet burlap, rapidly filling the heavy bag on

it's downward descent. The small

mage began to panic.

<i> I don't like this......where did Tim go? Where am I? When is someone

gonna get me out of here? </i>

The water rapidly filled his mouth and nose. Not knowing any better, the

black mage took a deep breath and

began to choke, whimpering pitifully.

<i> Why can't I breathe? I don't like this; this stuff makes me hurt. I

don't like hurting.</i>

The bag was now entirely filled with water. Sinking further onward, it

finally hit the riverbed, where it stuck

in the deep mud. Inside, the mage continued to try and breathe, filling his

lungs with more and more water.

<i>Tim......Tim didn't put me in here, did he? Why would he want to hurt

me?</i>

<i> Why did..........why.....want to......hurt.....me.....I never.....hurt

them........</i>

A final flurry of bubble rose to the river's surface.

END

<i> Author's Notes : This is NOT VIVI. I repeat, this is NOT VIVI. Not even

I would have the heart to kill Vivi.

This is just a very unlucky little mage that happened to wander in. This fic

was inspired by those incredibly

rude people in Clerya and Lindblum. Did anyone else feel bad for poor Vivi

during that bit? It's understandable

not to like mages after what happened, but sheeeeeeze. Anyways, it gave me

the idea for this twisted little

ficcy. All flames can be sent to the usual place.</i>