Ivalice Returning: Final Fantasy XII

By Maracae Grizzley

Fanfiction 2008

Vaan glanced at the wreckage of the Bahamut as he flew past it into Rabanastre. "Has it really been two years?" He didn't have to look at the expression on his partner's face to know that she was remembering the adventures they'd had two years before, just as he was.

"Yeah, hard to believe Ashe has only been Queen for a year." Penelo smiled. "I heard that Migelo is beside himself planning a fete." She sighed. "I wonder if we'll get to see her."

"I don't know. Larsa is coming to visit for the celebration." A note of seriousness touched both faces. Strange stories had started to circulate about their old friend.

"I wonder how Basch is doing as a Judge." Penelo had been sending letters to Larsa, as a way of keeping contact with him and with Basch, but the former Knight had not responded personally.

Vaan smiled at her, understanding her concern. "We'll just have to find out."

They didn't talk about the stories they'd heard. It was simply too frightening a thought to give voice to.

--

Dr. Cidolphus Demen Bunansa sighed to himself as he looked up from a piece of magicite. He removed his spectacles and absently rubbed his eyes. He was so tired, but sleep brought no respite.

He should be dead.

Ffamran and his companions, the Lady Ashe included, had spared no strength in their attack on him in the uppermost chamber of the Lighthouse at Ridorana. He should have died of his wounds, which had been grievous. Instead he lived, the maddening obsession over nethicite broken and his soul calmed. He simply did not know how such a miracle was possible.

His dreams were haunted by images of a golden-eyed angel, always pulling him back from danger, always vanishing before he could see her clearly.

He hoped he wasn't going mad again.

Rumors were circulating that the young Emperor, Lord Larsa, teetered on the edge of madness, obsessed with a sister who did not exist. A sister with golden eyes.

Cid knew that the answers he sought were with Lord Larsa and his dream-sister, and the stone that he found, but Cid did not want to return to Archadia. Too many memories there, too much old pain. He liked his new home in the sky pirate refuge. He could look out at the ocean – the endless, eternal sea – and sometimes he could understand why his Ffamran had become the sky pirate Balthier.

If he weren't so old he might consider taking up the trade. The lure of adventure, though, had long since paled for him. He liked the quiet, now, and the sound of the ocean from outside his window. He wished Fran were with him to enjoy it as well, but she was at the side of their son, helping him, aiding him.

After two years they had still not reconciled.

He needed to see to that, since he had been miraculously spared the death he deserved. Fran had, after all, left the Wood and her sisters, exiling herself from all she knew and loved, to find and to love him. She deserved so much more than he had given her. Perhaps he would be able to see them at the upcoming celebration of the first year of Lady Ashe's rule of the newly restored Dalmasca.

Zecht Reddas, who led the pirate enclave at Balfonheim, had invited him along as he was going to see the young Queen who helped remind him of why he had sworn service as a Judge Magister of the Empire, and why he had left that service because of nethicite's power and what it had done to Nabradia.

Doctor Cid knew that he had waited long enough. It was time to set right what he had put wrong.

--

Marquis Halim Ondore IV of Bhujerba sat in the privacy of his office and struggled to complete his memoirs of the past conflicts. It was to be his gift to the young Queen Ashe, a history written not by the winners but in honesty by one who was there and in unflinching accuracy. It was also to be a gift to a man who had done nothing but his duty and had borne unbearable shame for too long.

The time for secrets was at an end and Ondore intended to fully exonerate Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg at long last.

It should have been a simple endeavor – set aside his own ego and record the tragedies and triumphs of the very human men and women involved. Not the easiest of tasks but still, it should have been simple and straightforward. Until he started noting gaps in the memories of the eyewitnesses, most notably the survival of Doctor Cid. No one knew how the Sun-Cryst was destroyed, either. There was no doubt that it was, in fact, destroyed. The explosion atop Ridorana was seen for miles. If anyone had been wielding the sword that shattered the source of nethicite they would have been caught in the explosion and been killed.

But everyone who went to Ridorana returned, even Reddas the sky pirate, who was also the former Judge Magister Zecht.

If it had stayed as memory lapses, though, Ondore could still persevere. Matters, though, had just become infinitely more complicated. He had been looking through some of the papers of the late Emperor Gramis and had run across a box of letters – ones hidden by the hand of the old Emperor himself apparently. He was quite certain that Lord Larsa was unaware that they existed – outside his dreams of course.

… For the Senate, tell them what you will, though I would rather that you not tell them that I am dead. I do not intend to stay away forever, and I sincerely wish to return one day. For the Judges, instruct them that unless I make myself known to them, they are to ignore me. For Vayne, I wish him told nothing, if possible. I do not trust him in the least.

I fear one day that I may have no choice but to destroy him to protect Larsa. He seems too much like my Nii-sama for my comfort. I do not wish the guilt that burdens me on my Nii-chan.

Thank you so much for all your generosity towards a foundling such as me. You cannot know how much it means to me. Please forgive me, and know that I still hold to my oath. This I do to protect Larsa, who should one day be Emperor after you.

As much as I regret the necessity, I have spoken with The Mother, and she assures me that Larsa and I will meet again one day, but she offers few assurances beyond that. . .

Your dutiful Daughter, Ivalice Goldeneyes Solidor

Reluctantly Ondore decided that he had to consult with Larsa and the others who would have known this Imperial Daughter no one could remember.

--

Once the stone wreck had been a chamber at the top of a tower and it had housed the giant crystal from which the Shards, Dawn, Dusk, and Midlight, had been cut by the Dynast-King. Now it was a burned-out, twisted ruin.

The silence of the chamber was disturbed by the sounds of footsteps as two sky pirates entered the desolation and looked around. "I wondered why we never came back here," Balthier mused, "now I know. What does Ondore think we will find here?"

Fran shrugged her shoulders slightly. "I do not know. What did he say?"

"Only that someone must have wielded that sword to destroy the Sun-Cryst. He asked me to look for something I didn't remember." Balthier looked around. "That is where the stone was." He pointed to a spot that was now a blown out crater. Then he pointed to the blasted remains of an archway. "That was where Gabranth entered to challenge us. We fought him. My . . . my father entered then." Even after two years, it still hurt to talk about Dr. Cid as his father.

Fran took up the narrative. "Lady Ashe defied him. We fought. The rogue Occuria was banished. We fled, Reddas in the rear."

"Could Reddas have destroyed the stone?"

"I do not believe he would have escaped with us if he had." Fran frowned slightly. "Someone healed Cid. I – I remember seeing his eyes, but I do not remember who did so."

Balthier shrugged. "Maybe we threw the blade."

"The stone fought us, fought the blade. A throw would not have worked."

Balthier noticed something out of the corner of his eye. "No one's been sightseeing here since we came here last, right?"

"What do you see?"

He knelt in a spot and cleared away some of the debris to reveal a large stain burned black into the stone.

Fran touched the stain with a fingertip. "Blood. Sealed by the explosion. Someone bled here, while we were here."

Balthier's expression solidified. "We need to fly back to Bhujerba, and fast. This is what Ondore was looking for. I don't remember any of us being cut, not like this."

Fran nodded.

--

A man in dark plate mail walked through the hallways of the Imperial Palace in Archades. For duty and responsibility he had surrendered his honor to live with the shame of a crime he did not commit and then he surrendered his very name and identity to guard the young Emperor Larsa in his brother's place.

But all was not well with Lord Larsa.

Two years before, upon their return to Archades following the destruction of the Bahamut, Larsa had woken one morning with a fantastic tale of a sister no one knew, a sister he dreamed about nightly. It might have come to naught if he had not also found a strangely magical stone and if his guardian had not shared those dreams.

And the man who was once Basch fon Ronsenburg dreamed of her as often as Larsa did.

Another man in armor stopped him in the hall. "Judge Gabranth, I must speak with you."

Basch looked away. "I know what you wish to say, Judge Zargabaath, but it will do no good. I cannot dissuade him."

"You must do something. This obsession will destroy him and the Empire with him."

"I cannot."

"The stone is unholy. It holds his mind captive to this hallucination of a sister. The Empire lost his brothers to obsessions and the hunger for stones of power. We cannot afford to lose him, too. He is the last of House Solidor."

"I know this, Judge Zargabaath."

"Then please, speak with him."

Basch nodded. "I will speak with him, however little good it will do."

"Thank you." Zargabaath then took his leave of the other Judge. In truth, it was not only his Emperor he was worried about. He and Gabranth had never been the closest of friends, distant acquaintances actually, but ever since he had returned from the war that killed Lord Vayne, Gabranth had been different. So different in fact, that if Zargabaath had not known better he would have sworn that he was an entirely different man.

Basch continued on his way, fighting the aching in his chest that was in constant companion. He found Lord Larsa in the garden, sitting on a stone bench surrounded by daylight, a simple grey stone, flat and smooth and about the size of his palm, sitting in his open hand. The boy did not look up at his approach.

"They think I am mad."

Basch sighed. "They are worried, my Lord. No one remembers this sister you have dreamed of."

Now he looked up. "You remember her, don't you? You have dreamed of her, too."

Basch knelt next to Larsa, bowing his head. "I have dreamed of her." The admission hurt, not because he wished not to have dreamed but because he wished that he had not woken from it. "She was a dream." His mind said she had never been. His heart, though, cramped in pain from missing her and the fear of where she would be if she were real.

"She loved you."

Basch nodded. "I loved her."

"I gave her to you, to be your wife. You were to be married as we celebrated the end of the conflict my brother sought to create. I wished for you to give her sons and daughters. She carried your child." He clenched his hand around the stone. "I do not remember her, and yet I do. My mind says that she was not; the dreams say that she was; and the stone. . ." he looked down, "the stone she gave me shows me things that frighten me."

Basch put his hand over the boy's. "Then set the stone aside." He was suddenly afraid, both for the young Emperor and for the dream-maiden he could not remember with his waking mind.

Larsa did not hear him. "What if she is caught like we are? Remembering in dreams the love she had for us both and waking to find herself alone?"

Basch shuddered at the thought. "I would not wish that on anyone, much less her, if she were real." He sighed, "But you cannot keep tormenting yourself with these thoughts. They do you no good, and the Empire needs you."

Larsa met Basch's eyes. "The stone has power, I can feel it. Maybe . . . maybe we can figure out how to use it so we can reach her, bring her back to us. I need my sister, Judge." He paused, his eyes terribly vulnerable. "I need my sister so I am not alone anymore, Basch."

Basch prayed for forgiveness. That the boy-Emperor called him by name cut through his defenses and he was helpless before the plea, and the desperate lonliness behind it. "Please," he begged, "remember your brothers, how they were lost."

Larsa nodded slowly and opened his fingers from around the stone. "Not me, then. Will you . . . will you hononr me by searching the stone for a way to retrieve my sister, your affianced bride? I will trust the stone in no other hands but yours."

Basch nodded and held out a hand to accept the stone from Larsa. "As you will."

In Basch's hand the stone vibrated slightly in a silent humming. In truth, it was more powerful than either of them imagined.

--

Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca, Queen of Dalmasca, smiled and hurried to meet her visitor. "Uncle Halim!"

Marquis Ondore smiled back. "It is good to see you again, Lady Ashe. I trust you have been well?"

"As well as can be expected, Uncle. Your letter said that you wished to speak with me about your memoirs. Is there a problem?" She, as much as he, wished to see her former guardian exonerated.

"More accurately a complication, Lady Ashe. Would it be possible to gather the whole of your former companions together so that we may speak in private?"

Ashe blinked twice and then nodded. "Everyone has plans to be here for Migelo's fete. I shall arrange it."

"My thanks. This is a matter of utmost importance and discretion."

I promised a sequel, of sorts, so here it begins. I don't know how quickly I will be able to add to the tale, since I've got a whole alternate version of these worlds in the works as well as all my other stories and the original tales that are crowding my head. However, I felt it would be best to go ahead and begin placing this in the open for response and all that.

I have some of the tale hand-written, but not all of it, so typing and composing might go a bit slowly, but I am open to suggestions, if anyone has them.

Thank you for your time.

Mrs. Grizzley