Déjà vu

714 Old Valendian

Archades

Seven years after the fall of Vayne, Ivalice has entered a new golden age, not seen since the days of the Dynast-King…or so it seems.

Dalmasca has her peace, Rozarria has her peace, while in Archadia, peace is but an illusion. Its emperor, twenty-year-old Larsa Solidor, has grown into the spitting image of his late brother, without the disturbing mannerisms. He traded the fluffy white tunic and short pants for an outfit of black and silver armor, similar in style to Vayne's. His once short, curly hair has grown over his shoulders and to the middle of his back. His boyish features have given way to those of a young man. Just as the men of the House of Solidor, Larsa is well over six feet.

At first, in Archadia, all seems well, but all too soon Emperor Larsa begins to see strange visions. He sees his late brother walking the halls of the Imperial Palace. Since no one else sees the apparition, he simply passes it off as strain from governing his growing nation.

That aside, Larsa is engaged to a young woman, a Rozarrian by the name of Rachel Margrace, the eighteen-year-old baby sister of Al-Cid Margrace, the Ruler of Rozarria.

It is an unusually warm spring day, and Larsa is learning to play chess with his fiancée. The two can't stop smiling at each other as they both goof off with the crystal chess pieces. The sunshine brilliantly makes the chess pieces sparkle along with Rachel's brown eyes. The large marble patio they are on overlooks a beloved rose garden that has been in the Solidor family for generations. The fountains and birdbaths are their usual crystal clear; the hedge mazes are perfectly manicured, and beyond that stands Larsa's refuge, an eight hundred year old tree, an oak, with a thirty foot swing dangling from a very strong branch. It faces Misty Lake, where he and Rachel shared their first real kiss.

"Larse, it's your move."

"Um…" He picks up a pawn and moves it across the board. "Checkmate?"

Rachel sighs and then smiles. "Not this time, hon." She moves her knight and slides it to Larsa's end of the board.

"This is why I never bother to play chess," Larsa half-smiles. She smiles back.

He gets up from his seat and stretches. "I'd better get back inside. I've got work to do."

Rachel's voice is filled with disappointment. "Oh, okay." She was looking forward to spending the entire day with him, and now she has to spend the day alone. She looks down at her feet and fumbles with her hands. Larsa knows she's dissatisfied with his constant working. He walks towards her and places his large hands over hers.

"Rach," he starts in a whisper. "How can I make it up to you?"

She slowly lifts her head; her brown eyes meet with his gray eyes.

"Hold me. All night. That's all." She gives him a peck on his full lips. Two male servants hold open the double doors, letting Rachel inside. Larsa and another servant follow close behind.

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Later that night, Larsa and Rachel share each other in the heat of passion. Their bodies, tangled in a layer of silk sheets, move in rhythm of each other. Sweat beads form on Larsa's forehead and falls down his temples, he grabs the sheets and thrusts deeper into his wife to be. She slides her hands onto his muscular back, feeling his sweat, feeling his luxurious skin. Her lips part, a small moan escapes. Rachel runs her fingers through his long, raven black hair, enjoying the man she loves.

A knock on the door spoils the mood.

"Can it wait?" Rachel asks breathlessly.

Larsa groans and buries his face in a pillow. "Of all nights, why this one?"

"Better not keep them waiting." She places her hands on his face and gives him a very long kiss. The light knocks on his bedroom door turn into annoying pounding. Larsa gets out of bed and puts on a pair of pajama pants. He then rushes to the door.

Rachel couldn't hear the conversation between Larsa and whom she assumed is Basch on the other side of the door. She curls under the blankets when Larsa closes the door.

"What's going on?"

Larsa hurriedly puts on a satin robe, his bare, muscular chest exposed.

"Something happened."

"What happened?"

"I'll tell you later. Stay in here and lock the door." He slips on his house shoes and rushes out of the bedroom. Doing as she's told, Rachel wraps a sheet around her nude body and locks the door.

Downstairs, two guards and Basch detained the two intruders. Both men are in cuffs. Larsa, accompanied by a guard and a male servant, are in shock.

"What's the meaning of this?" Larsa asked strictly.

"We caught these men trying to steal," a guard explained. "We seized these items from them."

On a table were a crystal figurine, a Faberge egg, and Larsa's most prized possession, Vayne's ruby dagger. He felt a surge of anger tremor down his spine. His face turned red, he felt hot.

"Thieves! How could you intrude my home and attempt to steal from me?!"

"We---we were just fooling around, your Highness---" the first thief tried to explain, but he kept stumbling over his words.

"Fooling around? You're fools for doing this."

The two thieves clammed up, quiet and fearful of their leader. They instantly regret burglarizing the Imperial Palace. Larsa glared at them with harsh gray eyes full of anger.

"I don't tolerate a liar," he said dryly. "I won't tolerate a thief. Consider yourselves lucky I will not send the both of you to Nalbina Dungeons. You're free to go."

The guards escort the two men out of the palace.

"At least they didn't kill you," said Basch.

"Yeah. They would have been here longer. Try all night, for starters."

"I'm going back to bed. How about you?"

"I won't be able to fall asleep again, " says Larsa. "I think I'll remain awake. Goodnight, Basch."

"Goodnight, Larsa." Basch starts the long walk upstairs to his room.

Larsa stares at the ruby dagger on the table. Taking it out of its sheath, he examines it, marveling at its cleanness. He's watched Vayne use the dagger for numerous things, especially sharpening and carving strange looking wooden javelins with intricate designs on its sides. Larsa wondered if Vayne has ever used it on his enemies, mainly traitors such as Lamont and Revenal, or thieves stupid enough to attempt to burglarize their palace.

There is a special something about that dagger. Maybe it was enchanted with some type of spell to attract the person near it; maybe it was all in his head. Larsa picks up the dagger and takes it out of its sheath. It is a beautifully designed dagger, with its snake-like blade and its genuine ruby handle. It almost looked as if it is a religious dagger of some sort. Larsa wondered if Vayne used it for a secret ritual, mumbling incantations and slitting open a snake for its blood to drizzle on an inverted pentagram carved into the cellar floor. He envisioned his brother in the pitch dark of the cellar, surrounded by five black taper candles, his eyes closed, focusing on the evil energies in the room with him. Vayne has always pushed the envelope with using the Dark Arts to his advantage, and he was very good at it.

He conceals the dagger in the sleeve of his robe and goes back upstairs.

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Rachel has dozed off while waiting for Larsa to come back to the bedroom. The sound of the door opening wakes her up.

"So, what happened?"

"Nothing much," Larsa says upon locking the bedroom door. "Just some thieves."

She sits upright. "We're they caught?"

"Yeah. I had Basch let them go."

"Larsa, come back to bed. You look sleepy."

He coolly walks towards their bed and sits beside Rachel. He holds her by the waist with one arm while he caresses her with his other hand.

Larsa takes the very sharp dagger from out of his robe's sleeve and plunges the blade into her chest. Her eyes open wide, blood spills from the sides of her mouth. Larsa's eyes are devoid of emotion as he takes the blade out from her chest and plunges it into her stomach, ripping it open as if he were gutting a fish.

Rachel doesn't see Larsa, instead, his facial features are hardened, and his full lips are in a cold, hard frown.

"I can love you, my sweet, but in a very different way."

Larsa's daydream is instantly broken with Rachel calling his name.

"Larsa? Are you okay?"

"Um…yeah, I'm fine." He forgets all about the dagger hidden in his sleeve. "I just need a drink of water." Larsa then goes to the bathroom.

While in the bathroom Larsa takes out the dagger and stares at it. Did he really kill Rachel? Was it all because of the hidden danger this particular dagger has? He feels a slight breeze on his neck. Seeing a shadow out of the corner of his eye, he turns around to see what it is. Seeing nothing, he goes back to filling up his rinse cup with water. Whatever this 'thing' is, it obviously wants to annoy him.

When Larsa takes a sip of his water, he feels a hand rest on his shoulder. Terrified, he nearly chokes on his water, slips on a small puddle made from a shower earlier, falls, and hits his head on the sink, knocking him out cold. A small trickle of blood runs down his forehead.

Rachel still waits for him to come out of the bathroom. Going to see what is taking him so long, she wraps herself with a bath towel and goes to the bathroom door.

"Larse? Are you finished? I'm waiting for you to come and finish me," she says seductively. Getting no response, she knocks on the door again. "Honey? What are you doing in there?"

Finding the door unlocked, she opens it to find her fiancé knocked unconscious in the middle of the bathroom floor.

A/N: I don't know how to play chess, so hush up! ;-) I know it seems a little boring at first, but there will be more to come!