Cry of the Lost: A Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles Tale

Chapter 13

"Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" Autumn gasped in amazement.

"It's pretty amazing, I must say," Paul agreed.

"And we couldn't have asked for a more perfect day to be here," Curt said as he pulled the wagon to a halt.

The three friends sat in silence for a few moments to ponder the beauty of Rainbow Falls. It was not the largest waterfall around, but over the years the cascade had created an interesting formation in the rock of the cliff face such that the water fell in a curving manner that was quite mesmerizing. Together, the pristine water, the rushing sound, the rock formation, and the surrounding vegetation all made a truly amazing sight to behold.

"Well, the myrrh tree should be up around the next bend," Curt noted as he nudged the nu onward with a gentle flick of the reins.

Curt guided the nu down the beaten path for a few minutes until they came out into an open glade. There on the far side of the opening stood the myrrh tree. The tree stood only about ten feet high, but its branches reached out about ten feet on either side, giving the tree a wide girth. The leaves of the tree were the color of a deep red wine.

Curt was about to comment on the beauty of the tree when he noticed that they were not alone. Under the tree, he could see four men sitting, apparently sharing a meal. Curt slowed the nu to a walk as they approached the myrrh tree. Once the wagon was within a few yards of the tree, Curt reined in the nu and waved to the men.

"Hello there, fellow caravaners!" Curt greeted.

"Hello there, yourself," one of the men returned rather coldly as he rose and leaned against the myrrh tree.

"Fine day for gathering myrrh," Curt commented.

"There's no myrrh to be gathered here, youngster," the standing fellow countered.

Curt looked at Paul with a puzzled expression and then hopped down from the wagon. He had only taken a few steps toward the tree when the man who had spoken held up his hand.

"I'm going to have to ask you not to come any further. Like I said, there's no myrrh to be gathered here. Access has been restricted." The man now sounded both cold and annoyed.

"Restricted? What are you talking about? Myrrh belongs to everyone equally," Curt challenged.

"Say whatever you'd like, but you're not getting any myrrh today, chump. You'd best get back on that wagon and ride away...unless you're looking for a fight." The man slowly placed his hand on a short sword that hung at his side.

Curt watched as the other three men stood and moved near their companion, who was apparently the leader of the gang. Curt took a few steps back and then glanced quickly back at Paul and Autumn. Paul jumped down from the wagon and walked over next to Curt and nodded.

"We're not looking for a fight, but we need the myrrh. I'm going to ask you all to step aside so we can extract it." Curt stared at the leader.

"Very well, kid. You asked for it," the man said gruffly as he unsheathed his sword.

The next few moments were a blur. The leader began to run toward Curt. Curt drew his own sword and readied himself. The other three men then followed their comrade. Suddenly, the leader was flung backward with great force. His friends stopped in shock, and Curt saw that the man was lying on his back, writhing in pain, a javelin protruding from his chest. Curt quickly gathered his wits about him and looked around, but he saw no one else in the clearing. Curt looked at Paul, who simply shrugged his shoulders. Then everyone heard a rustling noise off to the side. Curt looked up into the trees and watched as a dark figure jumped lightly down onto the ground and began to walk toward him. Curt noted that the figure was a man dressed entirely in black. The man exuded an air of great confidence and poise.

"It seems a bit of a shame...four men having to get together to take on two youngsters and a girl, don't you guys think?" the man in black chided, having stopped only a few yards from where the leader lay dying.

"You'll pay for this, stranger," one of the other men threatened as he took a step toward the man in black.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the man in black said with a chuckle. He then turned a bit to his left and pointed. "I'm guessing she's a pretty good shot."

The gang member, Curt, and Paul all turned to look in the direction that the man in black had pointed. There stood Autumn, bow drawn and aimed at the gang member. Autumn winked, and Curt could not help but chuckle himself. The gang member stepped back and looked at his remaining companions, one of whom shook his head slowly.

"It's probably time for you fellas to run away now," the man in black teased. "Unless, of course, you want to end up like your dead pal."

Curt looked at the leader lying on the ground, and sure enough, he had died. The three gang members took one last look at their fallen comrade and then ran off into the forest. The man in black walked over to the body of the gang leader, pulled out his javelin, and then turned to Curt and his companions.

"I suppose you all can extract your myrrh now," the man said.

"Thank you, sir. We are in your debt," Curt returned.

"No need. I was only doing my duty. My name is Mark," the man said as he held out his hand to Curt.

"Hello, Mark. I'm Curt, and my friends here are Paul and Autumn."

"Nice to meet you all. How long have you been out on caravan?" Mark inquired.

Curt proceeded to tell Mark the story of their adventure thus far. Curt learned that Mark had been fighting in Deloam, which led Curt to believe that Mark was the man in black that Colton had seen. As Curt talked to Mark, Paul took the crystal orb and placed it on a stone slab that sat under the myrrh tree. Autumn walked over and watched as Paul opened the orb, dipped the tip of his finger into the myrrh inside, and then slowly rubbed the tip of his finger around the edge of the orb. The crystal began to ring as Paul continued rubbing the edge. Slowly and softly, the leaves of the myrrh tree began to rustle as if a gentle breeze was blowing through the tree; however, the air in the glade was quite still. As the leaves rustled, drops of myrrh began to fall. The myrrh drops fell in a more concentrated drip just above the crystal orb, filling it with the sweet-smelling liquid. Once the myrrh level in the orb was about a third of the way up, the rustling slowed and the myrrh stopped dripping. Paul looked up at the boughs of the tree, smiled, and then picked up the orb and returned to the wagon. Autumn followed, commenting on how miraculous it was to watch the extraction process. Paul heartily agreed.

"All set, you guys. We'd better get a move on," Paul noted.

"Where are you all headed now?" Mark asked Curt.

"We're heading up to Folton's Dale to gather more myrrh. Mark, I know this is a lot to ask, but would you be willing to join our caravan?" Curt asked.

"Hmmm...Folton's Dale. That's near Sumira, and I was on my way to Sumira just now. I'll tell you what...I can use some company, so I'll travel with you as far as Sumira. How does that sound?" Mark offered.

"Sounds great to me! Climb aboard, and we'll get going," Curt said, smiling.