A/N: This was originally a storyline I had come up with for an RPG Maker 2k3 game, until I realized; no one really plays those anymore (even though it was the best in the series in my opinion…). But here I lay my thoughts anew, and hopefully you enjoy this little story of mine.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Final Fantasy XII, or any of its characters, events, and history.

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It hardly rained in Archades, yet tonight had apparently been chosen to be the exception of exceptional examples that, when it did rain, no one dared to be caught in its wrath. Do to the strong wind that was already natural to their climate, when the rain had decided to show its unmasked face of power, it held no bounds for compassion. It pelted anyone, feeling as though a hundred marksmen were executing one, yet one did not die, and they fired endlessly.

Larsa Ferrinas Solidor, fourth son to the late Gramis Solidor, and sole survivor to the steps of House Solidor. Now the final words of House Solidor had been written, and the book had been closed, forever closing that chapter of Archadian history. For now, those halls were hollowed, and Larsa had decided it sufficient to take down from the crest the Blade of Fortitude, and place it somewhere close to him for safekeeping. He knew not what would become of the structure that was once his home, now that he had reign over the Palace of the Senate, and he cared not. Though his memories walked the bare floors, those remnants would pass on, and the house would be nothing more than brick and stone.

The hand on the clock, mounted boastingly behind Larsa had already stroked past midnight, and was making its way quickly to dawn. He could not believe how time had been passing ever stealthily as of late. He wondered what was taking so long for this man to arrive, and his eyes were pleading for mercy, begging him to let his eye lids fall, if only for one minute. However, their prayers had been cast aside then there had come an urgent rapping on his chamber door, quickly tapping, then patiently awaiting. He called out to his visitor,

"Come in."

The large doors were opened, and pushed aside with a force as Gabranth rushed through them with presence, and kneeled before his emperor.

"Lord Larsa, your grace, Sir Al-Cid has arrived." He addressed mechanically, and lifted his head to look into the eyes of his king. Larsa nodded, and lifted his hand to signal his approval. Gabranth stood, and hastily turned his shoulder, stalking out of the room. Larsa waltzed around to his desk, and sat slowly, when he heard the plodded footsteps of Al-Cid through his door. Once he and his servant, a frail thin girl with long dark hair, were inside, Gabranth curtly shut the chamber door behind them.

"Ah, my little Emperor, you've changed these past few months." Al-Cid said, slowly walking toward the open chair before Larsa's desk. "Why it seems like only yesterday that you were only chest high; I suppose ruling an empire has turned you a man grown, no?"

"Al-Cid, you've changed little… if at all… Please, you must accept my apologies for my apparent absence these last few months, I've had too many issues on my plate, and no help to rely on." Larsa began, standing, and sitting on the edge of the hard wood surface.

"So I've heard, those senators of yours are good for begging and wasting away your taxes, but little good are they for solving matters of upkeep." Al-Cid spoke into his hand as he rested his chin into his palm. "But no matter, I've finally an audience with you now."

"As does your brother tomorrow morning." Larsa added. He observed the man before him, and no matter how many years had gone by he just never seemed to age, mature. Neither had his personality.

"Which is exactly why I've been trying so earnestly to reach you before he does, even if only six hours before your meeting. To warn you, my little emperor." Al-Cid said, now sitting up with a stern look in his face, forcing the poor girl beside him to become rigid with the anticipation of an order. He reached out his hand, and she quickly, and obviously nervously, produced from her side a small book; a journal.

"And what might you be warning me of? Do you really think your brother has ill intention?" Larsa asked, amused with where this conversation was quickly going. Al-Cid remained silent, and tossed this small journal onto Larsa's desk. Larsa quickly reached for the Ceourl hide bound booklet, when Al-Cid grabbed his hand with swift speed.

"I warn you not from my brother's intentions, but of what his intentions might bring about." He told Larsa. Larsa looked to the journal for a moment, but let his hand drop back to his side once Al-Cid let go. He figure it was best to hear what the man had to say first and foremost so that he might at least understand what he was reading. "Seven months ago, my brother had spent three weeks conducting an investigation on the Phon Coast. As to what remained to me an elusive mystery, yet still there was no reason for anyone to stop him-"

"I would have," Larsa interrupted, a slight tinge of anger upon his cheeks. "The Phon Coast is Archadian territory, he needs jurisdiction before he can even bury his shovel an inch into an excavation site." Al-Cid could see the annoyance in his young friend's face; apparently he did not like people undergoing plans right under his nose.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you can cover that with him in a few hours. But here is where my worries lie. He did recover something, apparently something he felt he had to keep confidential. When returning, this item had been kept hidden from me, and everyone else. Until one day, an old friend of yours brought me that very journal that now lies upon your hands – it is the very journal that my brother used to write all of his finding during those three weeks." Al-Cid told him, eyeing the book. Larsa, too, was looking at the face, almost too overcome by curiosity as to what secret lie within its pages to bring Al-Cid to such urgency. "Before you even ask, yes, I have read its contents, and they disturb me well, as you may already know."

"Who brought you the journal?" Larsa asked, suddenly curious as to who might have stolen such an item.

"A Sky Pirate with an ambition for entrances." Al-Cid said, Larsa nodding in a smirk.

"I was wondering what had happened to them, I hadn't seen or heard from either of them since the sky fortress." Larsa said, mostly to himself. Perhaps Fran and Balthier were already suspicious of the elder Margrace's intent.

"Nay, little emperor, he works alone now, only the Pirate remains. Apparently his partner had come across a mishap a while ago, and she no longer walks this world." Al-Cid corrected him, his visage nonchalant, though his voice conveyed a pity of sympathy for his friend. Larsa's eyes grew dark for a moment, and then looked to Al-Cid.

"Al-Cid, you have been my friend for the better part of a decade, and though our ages differ, our like minds do not, and I thank you for your trust." Larsa said, placing a hand on Al-Cid's shoulder. "I've never questioned that trust that I lay on our friendship, but I must ask, why do you bring this to me?" he asked. Al-Cid shook his head, thinking momentarily before answering.

"That I have yet to decide." He said before standing. "Ah, but alas I must take my leave, Larsa. Until next we meet, my little emperor." He said before Larsa could ask any further questions. Al-Cid left, trailed closely by his servant girl, and Gabranth came in soon after they were gone. Larsa saw the concern on his brow beneath that scar upon his head.

"He simply wanted to give me this, and to lay on my hands a warning." Larsa informed the Judge Magister. Gabranth looked to the desk where the journal lie.

"What say you of this matter?" he asked Larsa. Larsa placed a finger to his cheek, and contemplated this with question with serious thought.

"I… I don't know." Larsa said. "But I don't think he would make the trip for nothing. I can't make any decisions about this until I read that journal, and speak with Sir Al Zed Margrace. Then, depending on the outcome…" Larsa trailed off, leaving Gabranth to wonder what was racing through that mind of his.

"Excellency?" Gabranth asked, Larsa finally coming out of his trance.

"Basch, I have a request." Larsa said.

"Lord Larsa, do not refer to me by that name in the senate palace!" Gabranth whispered with haste. Larsa shook his head.

"But it isn't my Judge Magister that I'm asking. Though I understand your reasons for discrepancy, you need not fear eager ears, we are safe here. Rather I'm asking my friend, my brother, so what say you Basch?" Larsa said, then letting the silence settle in, with the exception of the rain pounding the windowpanes. Basch bowed and spoke to the ground.

"To the grave I would go, if that were the place you would wish to send errand." Basch said. Larsa smiled, and patted his friend on the back.

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Oh, didn't this just seem all too familiar. Slouching against the wall, all she could think, all that she could hope was that the two of them would find her quickly. These Bungalows were old, and all matter of root and moss had made its roost here. She felt that if she moved, or even breathed the wrong way, the entire structure would fall, and then what would be left of Penelo?

Why did those four always insist that Balthier would come at the word of her capture? The first time, sure, he felt responsible, but she really hoped that word had indeed reached him because no one could ever find where he hid himself these days.

"Check on the girl; make sure her hide is still in one piece. Should Balthier not show his face, at least we'll have a tender meal ahead of us!" She heard Ba'Gamnan shout. She heard the labored steps of one of them coming toward her, she believed the name was Buwagee, or something close to that, but she wasn't quite sure. The bounty hunter stalked through the entrance, and sneered at Penelo past the long snout. The girl cringed at the rows of teeth, and the hunter had apparently found this amusing.

"Well I know I can always count on the smell to lead me to you!" Penelo heard, the sweet symphony of that familiar voice raising her spirits. Bwagi quickly ran outside and Penelo heard a loud thud, before hearing a flood of laughter from all of the hunters. Penelo shook her head, only imagining that one of them had made a rush for the pirate, and he had somehow miraculously flipped their entire body with a flick of the wrist. There was no way to know for sure, but in Penelo's mind, Balthier couldn't lose; when had he ever lost before her?

"D'Aargh! This'll not be happening again!" Ba'Gamnan shouted. The captive girl smirked, and then frowned when she heard the next voice enter the play.

"That's quite enough antics, Balthier." The pirate heard. He dash around to face the source of these words, apparently oblivious as to whom this newcomer was. He was no Bangaa, no, but a Hume. She stood tall in her leather-clad frame, weapons close to her side. Two scimitars, they'd tasted blood before by the looks of them. The woman smirked, flicking a few strands of her raven hair out of her eyes. "You come peacefully and we'll have no reason to harm that poor girl."

"We may even let her go." Came another voice, standing one of the lower branches in the Salikawood. This man held no weapon, but stared into Balthier's face through long golden locks. Balthier smirked, and turned to Ba'Gamnan.

"Needing help these days, eh? I suppose I'm just too much for you to handle, even when I'm outnumbered." He smirked. They stared at him, wondering why he was so sure of himself.

"Let me ask you something; what do you think would happen if I pulled the trigger?" Balthier asked, pointing his gun not toward the tall Hume woman, yet past her. They all turned to see exactly where it was that he was aiming, when they all found it; A rather large bomb, roaming only twenty feet or so away. "Why don't we find out, shall we?"

After a loud, searing bang, Penelo jumped, wondering what was going on. She stood, and attempted to make a run for the door when someone had run into her.

"Ah, just the girl I wanted to see." Balthier said. Penelo sighed when he took her arms into his hands. "Seen any kidnapped sidekicks around here?" he asked sarcastically, she laughed slightly, until he yanked her hand and began to run.

"Balthier, what's going on, why are we running?" she asked. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Ba'Gamnan and his crew chasing after them. She quickened her pace, but then she saw that they weren't chasing after them, rather running from the thing that was chasing after them. A very large and intimidating bomb was close in foot. "Balthier! What did you do!?"

"Distraction, my dear, distraction!" he yelled as they ran around the boardwalks. He led her up a few sets of stairs, and then stopped when they were standing halfway over a bridge. Penelo tried to keep running to make it to the other side, when Balthier gripped her hand tighter.

"Come on, we have to keep going!" She said. Balthier shook his head.

"We can run around these woods all day and that thing would still pursue. No, what we have to do is jump." He told her. Penelo took a second glance at him, and then stared completely. Jump, was he crazy? She leaned closer to the edge of the ropes, and looked down. After about a hundred feet, the mist had grown too thick, and she could see no ground.

"We'll never survive that!" She said turning back to him.

"And yet it's our only hope – bon voyage!" he said as he pushed her over the bridge. She yelled and screamed her lungs out as she went over. Balthier watched her as she screamed, and screamed, rubbing his forehead as she float there before him, screaming on for ages. She finally opened her eyes, and looked around. She was not falling to her death, but rather sitting on something unseen.

"I'm not dead," she said to herself, feeling around her.

"Yes, and the next time I'm trying to save your life, I would appreciate it if you would trust me when I say jump." He told her annoyingly. He jumped over himself, and landed on his invisible ground. He stomped twice with his foot, and out of thin air appeared the Strahl. She should have known.

"Now if you would kind jump down into this hatch… or are you afraid you'll fall to your death in there as well?" he said, giving her the smuggest of looks. She stood in a huff, and pushed past him, dropping inside the airship. Balthier was about to step inside himself when an arm grabbed him.

"We're not finished yet!" the female hunter shouted, bringing her blade quickly toward him. He jumped back, trying not to fall off of the Strahl's back. Balthier smiled a sly grin.

"Oh I believe we are," he winked before dropping inside the ship, and closing the hatch. The woman was about to bring her blade through the hatch, and force it open, until she felt a heat from behind. There behind her was the large, and heated face of the bomb. Before a scream could escape her lips, it had set itself off, self destructing, as the Strahl took flight, dodging trees, through the tops, and out into the sky. "Rotten spot of luck for her, I suppose. Not the best career ending move, but I'm sure she'll be missed." He said nonchalantly, as Penelo flew them out of there. She tuned him out as she concentrated on putting the ship on autopilot. When he felt a jerk beneath his feet, he knew that they were now soaring at a fixed speed.

"I never did learn how to work that gadget." He said to himself, as Penelo stood out of the pilot's seat and made her way toward him. He figured the poor girl wanted him to hold her as she thanked him or something like that. He was about to comfort her when he felt her open palm against his face.

"That's for pushing me over a bridge!" she said. He brought his face back to look at her, and as his lips parted to speak, she smacked his other cheek. "And that's for getting me into all this trouble in the first place! This was all your fault y'know."

"My fault?" he scoffed, scowling after her as she walked away and to his ex-partner's usual seat.

"Of course! This is the second time I've been kidnapped because of your bounty!" she said, folding her arms and looking out the window.

"And haven't I always applied a hasty rescue? I should think you owe more gratitude to your knight," Balthier said, taking his seat and rubbing his sore face.

"Hmph! A Onion knight, maybe…" Penelo said, beginning to lose herself in view and thought alike. She watched the world pass her by, catching glimpses of it when the clouds beneath them decided to part. She could see the peaks of the Mosphoran Highwaste as they glided above it. Within minutes they would be crossing over Fort Nalbina, and then on to Rabanastre.

"I think you've spent too much time admiring Fran, with that wit of yours…" Balthier said to himself. He then reprimanded himself, and mentally kicked himself for bringing up the Viera.

"Where is Fran, by the way? You two are practically inseparable; is she off doing something else for a while? Scaling more treasure?" Penelo pummeled him with questions, now back to her light hearted nature and immensely interested. Balthier remained silent, only shaking his head, not to answer her questions, but rather to rid himself of the creeping guilt.

"No," he began, yet didn't know how to finish the sentence. How could he? What was he to say to the poor girl? Fran was just as much her friend as she was his, and now he had to write out the ghastly truth. "She's dead." He stated. Simple as that, he had been done with the deed, though he couldn't help glancing here and there to see how Penelo had taken the news. She simply sat back into the seat, bringing one knee to her chest and wrapping her arms around it.

"When?" She asked, the emotion apparent in her voice, though she strained to make it sound somewhat together.

"About seven months ago, when we were near the borders of Archades and Nabradia." He told her, glancing to the oncoming Fort. He waited for the young lass to inquire further, yet she refrained her composition. She sat silently, bothering him no more with her questions. But maybe he wanted to be bothered. Maybe he was just waiting for someone to ask what had happened.

They were both silent the rest of the trip back to Rabanastre, Balthier picking an open docking port, and landing inside. Once inside, the Moogle-Aide's 7th troup had immediately begun to check for any steam-wear, for missing fragments in the glossair rings around the stern of the ship.

"I suppose this is it then, right? I'll go back to The Sandsea to look for Vaan, and you'll be off." She said, twiddling her fingers behind her back. Balthier placed a hand on his hip, and leaned to the side, examining the girl's face. "When will I see you again?" she asked. He thought for a moment.

"I suppose you, Vaan and that queen of yours will see me again soon enough." He smirked. Penelo nodded, and turned on her heel to leave. Balthier contemplated on calling out to stop her, maybe give her some more comforting parting words, but he never did. Penelo turned the corner, and left the Aerodrome, leaving Balthier to his thoughts, and regrets.

Penelo walked through Rabanastre, passing little Gurdy and her Chocobo Stall, merchants, and such, pondering the last words she's said to him, and the answer he'd gotten. 'I suppose you, Vaan, and that queen of yours will see me again soon enough.' But she didn't ask when they would, she had asked when she would see him again. Did he not think of her as her? Was she only Penelo when accompanied by someone else? Did she not stand alone in his eyes? How could he still see her as a child? So many questions roamed her mind, and she was beginning to get angrier with each conclusion they brought. She was no child, yet she could see it in his eyes when he spoke to her, and the mere thought of such a notion was infuriating.

She had no choice; she was going to have to prove it to him. She would get him to see her not as a child, nor as a companion, but Penelo; the Penelo he'd never seen, the Penelo no one could see, the Penelo that yearned to be tough, independent, and worthy of their respect.

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"Why my young ruler, I've not seen you in many a year, too many for my tastes." Larsa heard as his chamber doors were thrust open. He was surprised, Gabranth had not warned him of the man's presence. Al-Zed Margrace stepped to his own pace, slowly making his way past the doors. "Do not look so shocked, I know I am a bit late, but that's hardly the face I was expecting." He said, noting Larsa's surprised and slightly annoyed look.

Gabranth followed suit, mumbling about how he could not simply waltz though the palace as he pleased, no matter who he was. Al-Zed merely waved his hand at the Judge Magister, as if shooing him. Gabranth, utterly angered, looked to his Excellency for a chance to take care of the man. Larsa shook his head, and Gabranth merely shut the chamber doors as he stepped outside.

"What is it you wanted to discuss with me, an hour ago mind you?" Larsa said, standing and greeting his visitor with a handshake. The eldest Margrace had the face of his younger counterpart; almost too alike they were, in appearance, and presence.

"Why, straight to the matter of things, I like that." Al-Zed laughed, Larsa returning to his chair behind his desk. He leaned back, and interlaced his fingers, waiting to see how Al-Zed would approach this. "As you must have already heard, I had held an excavation on the Phon Coast a while back. Before you settle on the legal aspects of my actions, I fully understand that I should have come to you first and foremost. Forgive me, but my operations had to be done in silence."

"So then explain to me what was so important about this 'operation'?" Larsa motioned his hand toward the seat opposite him. Al-Zed gave the seat a suspicious glance, before finally sitting and looking out the windows of the office. The windows where water stained, and now noticeable dusty, yet the beautiful day outside was still visible.

"Well, It started when I began to hear rumors about a spot off the shores of the Phon Coast," he began, propping a leg upon his bended knee, and leaning further back into his chair. "Fish, birds, and other such creatures were washing ashore, crystallized from the inside out." He said. Larsa gave him a strange look.

"Crystallized? I've never heard of such an affliction… exactly what do you mean by 'crystallized'?" he asked. Al-Zed looked the young emperor in the eyes, and tilted his head into shade.

"They were frozen. And by the state of them, frozen alive, and assumingly instantly." He said. Larsa was now leaning forward.

"Frozen?"

"Aye, and better yet, they never thawed. I have all but one of the specimen to this day, and all of them are still frozen yet." He explained. He shifted his back slightly and turned his neck in an attempt to work a crick out. "Forgive me, but I arrived by common commercial flight. They apparently use Chocobo feathers to stuff their bunks, I am sure you know the comfort of the Garuda-Egi, and how hard it would be to adjust to-"

"All but one specimen? What happened to this 'one' if I may ask?" Larsa cut into his small idle banter. Al-Zed looked to Larsa's desk.

"The specimen that had been brought to me, before I had decided to investigate this matter, was a child of Rozarria. He, and his mother, was traveling by Chocobo to visit family in Archadia. She informed me that they had stopped at the beach for a while, and when he did not return, she ran aloft, looking for him, and ultimately, this was the outcome." He said. Larsa was having a hard time believing what he was hearing. No magicite would freeze a child or anything on its own, it would need to be used by someone with that sort of knowledge. "If you could only have seen him, then you would understand my actions. The life in his eyes, it was still there, but only an illusion, for he was no more.

"As the boy's ice clad figure was brought before me, I noticed that me was holding something, barely tucked between his stone hard fingers. I had asked one of my servants to bring me this small stone, however…" he trailed off. Larsa waited patiently for the man to continue. "However when the stone was touch, my servant, too, was immediately turned to a dead, frozen statue."

"So this stone, what was it?" Larsa asked. Al-Zed glanced out of the window now and again before turning back to Larsa's face.

"What it is, we do not yet know. It's origins, very questionable. What we did know was that it was a shard, a fragment of a much larger stone: a crystal. So to make sure that this would not happen again, and for scientific purposes, we conducted an investigation, and an excavation to recover all of the missing pieces. And, over the course of three weeks, we were successful."

"So then you have reassembled this crystal?" Larsa asked, looking all but angry, quickly forgetting their intrusion. Al-Zed sighed, and shook his head.

"Nay, all of the shards but one have been put together." He said, reaching into one of his coat pockets and producing a small piece of cloth, wrapped around a small object, which Larsa could only assume was this one piece. Larsa reached for the object, and found it to be light. He began to unravel it, when Al-Zed added something for Larsa to hear. "I warn you, young ruler, do not touch the stone at any cost. This frozen state, as time and method has proven, is irreversible."

Larsa unfolded the final piece of folded cloth, and gazed unto this shard. It glowed an ambient blue, and seemed to whisper to him. It chimed in his mind, and promised secrets untold or eons.

"Truth be told, I am not ashamed to admit that I am afraid to place the final piece onto it's hold. These shards obviously contain strong magicks, and to complete the crystal would be completing a slumbering power, which I am almost deathly afraid to see." Al-Zed informed the young man. Larsa was shocked to hear him admit to fear. "So my only option was to bring the shard to you to ensure that the cryst would not be whole, at least until we can hone in its knowledge to our advantage."

"I have gained more trust of your family than I had ever been certain." Larsa said, still gazing at this small object of power. How could such a small stone, barely under an inch in length, have caused so much trouble of its own free will? "Having heard all of the circumstances, I will dismiss your previous actions, so long as I have your word you will inform me of any other goings on you plotted for Archades soil."

"And have it you shall," Al-Zed said, standing, and bowing before turning to take his leave.

"Wait," Larsa called out. "I have something that belongs to you." Al-Zed turned in curiosity, awaiting the other man's charity, and wondering what it could possibly be. Larsa walked behind his desk and withdrew a small, leather bound journal, one that seemed all too familiar.

"And exactly how did your majesty get your hands on that?" Al-Zed asked thoughtfully, striding to Larsa, who held the journal out toward him.

"Believe me, I had no part in the efforts of the thief, and I apologize for your trouble. I hope this will not jeopardize our loyalty to our kingdoms." He said as Al-Zed quickly snatched up the book. He gave a curt smile, and nodded.

"Of course not, your grace." He replied, before turning his back and heading for the doors. He stopped in mid step, yet did not bother to turn around before asking, "Have you read it?" he asked. Larsa sighed, and replied after only a moment's delay.

"No." he said. Al-Zed turned and headed for the door. Once he was gone, Larsa looked back to the item upon his desk. There the royal blue crystal shard lay open, and awaiting to see what Larsa's next actions would be. Larsa then heard the familiar curt tapping before answering it, telling Gabranth to come in. Doing so, it appeared that he was not alone. Walking past him, and quickly rushing toward Larsa was Penelo.