Within half and hour, the nine Black Mages, one Sir'Kai, two Genomes, Steiner, and Freya stood at the base of the mountains, wondering how to get up.

"There's not enough time to get red chocobos, and I doubt there are enough anyways," Zidane commented. Zentarou smiled, digging out a few wind crystals.

"Everyone form a chain." They did so, and Zentarou gripped Vivi's shoulder. He began to cast. The air around then shimmered, and when it cleared they were on top of the mountain. Zentarou chuckled, patting the dust off his hand. "I do so love wind walk." Steiner set down the crystal while the mages prepared.

"So," he asked, "do we just break it?"

"I can call it out," Kuja said. The non-casters moved aside, as the casters ringed the crystal. Kuja casted first, and as if the gem suddenly lost its substance, the Mist wafted out. Quickly, before it could escape, the concert casting began. This was it. If the Mist refused to obey them, it was all over.

"The words rolled out of their lips in perfect unison and rhythm:

"I call to the spirit, listen to my voice, heed my call. You will know me, for I am you. Obey me." This they repeated over and over, and Steiner, Zidane, Freya, and Zentarou all held their breaths. Would if work? Did Kuja count?

Slowly, ever so slowly, the dissipated Mist reformed into a sphere, hovering in the air between the mages.

"We can stop chanting," Kuja said, "but hold your concentration." Zentarou stepped up, and reached out so he touched the Mist ball. As he case his spell, the ball grew larger and larger.

"Send out the Mist," the Cat said, holding his spell. "Each of you, send it to a different place over the world."

"The Black Mage Village!" No. 42 called, and a tendril of Mist shot out and across the sky.

"Madain Sari!"

"The Lifa Tree!"

"Burmecia!"

"My Fortress!"

"The Chocobo's Forest!"

"Chocobo's Paradise!"

"Lindblum!"

"Alexandria!" At Vivi's final call, a tendril shot nearly straight down to strike at the heart of the city, where it rippled out like a wave, expanding quickly to fill and city, then the ledge it was on, then overflow into the valley below. Soon it filled the entire area, spilling over the smaller mountains and drifting around their feet.

"I'm going to pump more out," Zentarou warned. "Enough to go over our heads." The Mist rose higher, until it was over the Black Mages' heads, then over the Genomes, then the others.

Abruptly Vivi had the sudden urge to cough, one so strong he couldn't resist. He began to cough violently, nearly doubling over from the fit. Around him, he could hear the other Black Mages and Kuja coughing as well.

Don't lose your focus, he ordered himself. For your sons, Garnet, Beatriz, for all you care about, don't you let your arms drop, don't let your mind lose concentration. He coughed so hard tears spilled from his eyes, but he managed to hold his focus. And at last, the fit subsided, leaving in its wake a feeling of... wellness. That crystalline sensation that lingers when an illness has passed and health restored.

"Everyone feel that?" asked No. 42, once everyone had stopped coughing. They all confirmed that they had.

"Lets hold it for a bit more," Kuja said, "just to be sure." They held the spell in place for about another two minutes, and then called the Mist back. Carefully, they forced it back into a ball, then compacted it and lowered it into the crystal, where Kuja sealed it in. Then they all collapsed, exhausted.