Once upon a time, on a world floating sheltered on a sea of chaos, there was a prince by the name of Firion. His parents, the rulers of Lighthaven in the Cosmic Plains, raised him with every advantage possible. With their love he grew in to a compassionate and just ruler. But such rulers are not without enemies and it just so happened that Mateus, the court sorcerer, became the villain of this tale.
He paid a visit to the fierce-eyed spirit of Mt. Auron and appealed to it to lay a curse on the lad. He persuaded it that Firion would lead his land into the chaos beyond, citing the betrayal of his brother as but one instance of his blunders. The spirit agreed and cursed the young prince; one day he would prick his finger on a rose thorn and waste away until there was naught left but dust. Mateus was pleased with this and proceeded to act shocked the following morning when he sensed it upon him.
He suggested to the prince that he go somewhere that roses could never reach him. Firion agreed and let Mateus handle the details, trusting the man who had already warned him of his horrible fate. The prince was brought across the land in his sleep and placed in a tower between the Enchanted Hills and Mirage Marsh. When he awoke, his only escape was through a window in a tower now overgrown with roses. He didn't dare try to descend, especially after rescue attempts proved that these roses had absorbed some of the curse. Too late he realized that he had been quite safely taken care of by his treacherous sorcerer. There was nothing left for him to do but train and eat food brought by sympathetic sprites. Soon years had passed and he was celebrating his twenty-second birthday.
It just so happened that a humble thief was on the run. Zidane Tribal had been chased out of Hide-Me-Away Cave in the Brigands' Desert just east of there and was still being pursued now. The crafty teen had swindled his assigned team, stealing the loot the brigands' had had their eyes on for a long time. He was a genome, a race from across the Odyssey Sea that possessed high agility and tails. It was this same agility that propelled him from across the Wild Rose River, his pursuers left shaking their fists from the other side.
He chuckled as he settled down to admire the crystals he'd stolen. A glorious sunrise illuminated them, in the process placing a reflection on their surface. He turned and indeed, a tower loomed there in the distance. An avaricious curiosity welled up inside him, urging him onwards towards possibly abandoned treasure. Yes, he decided, the tower had to be abandoned, overgrown as it was with flora.
By the time the sun reached its climax, he was thigh-deep in heavily thorned roses. For any other the way would have long since been impassable but to Zidane, agile beyond even a genome's imagining, barely even thought about it as he made his way through his twisted path. When he reached the tower he found himself grinning at the ease he would have breaking in. In a feat only he could pull off he climbed the tower without once even being touched by a thorn.
Finally he threw himself inside, laughing wildly at his easy entry. Laughter that soon halted when his face met the wall. A body pressed him viciously into it.
Whoever this is, they have the advantage of mass over me. Please be just a really bulky damsel in distress. Deciding it best to talk his way out, he began, "Hey there, no need to-"
"Who are you?" demanded a coarse voice at his ear. He was shoved ever more harshly into the hard stone.
He laughed nervously. "Who, me? No one, I just… happened to be walking by-" The mystery person displayed their disbelief by smashing him once more, the force of which dislodged the crystals from their hiding place with a tell-tale clunk. "Uh, heheh, I always carry my, um, family heirlooms with me on walks. Wouldn't want anyone to steal them while I was out?" he suggested in what definitely wasn't a squeak.
"Those crystals… my mother lost them to brigands years ago!"
He gulped. Think fast, think fast! As soon as the shock wears off they'll toss me out the window! "S-seriously? Wow, I had no idea… I'll just be leaving then… you know, to return them…," he said as he inched towards the window. His escape was not to be, however, for the person behind him spun him around, this time his back hitting the wall. For the first time he got a look at his captor. And what a captor it was.
So much for it being a deep-voiced girl. The man in front of him had the look of Cosmic royalty. He wore princely white garb and opalescent jewelry, all to go with the royal silver hair shared by all sons of Cosmos. Zidane thought as hard as he could, searching his memory for any reason a Cosmosian royal would be on this side of the Brigands' Desert. Something rang a soft note in his mind, but the heavy scent of roses was too distracting to concentrate. Roses. A Cosmosian.
Roses.
Roses!
"Prince Firion?" He gaped at the other, forgetting even his current situation in the face of this absurdity.
Placed in a tower after the curse… trapped by cursed roses… reminds me of that game some kids made up. The game in question required a ring of children with linked hands around one child in the center, other children outside optional. The children would move any way possible to prevent the one within or others without from getting past them. They had until the end of the rhyme to get "Prince Firion" out of the roses.
In a den of roses
Where no one ever goes-es
Prince Firion
Needs cheery-in'
As he uneasily dozes
A curse has been made
A flower bed been laid
Cursed touch
Hurts you much
Don't get caught in the raid!
"So I haven't been forgotten…," he said in a hushed tone. He released Zidane's shoulders and looked away.
"Why would you be?" he asked, "You're still ruler, even if you need a middle-man."
"So that's how he- listen, thief-" He cut him off with an extended hand.
"I'm Zidane." An easy smile helped loosen the prince up and he returned it and a hand.
"Zidane," he agreed, shaking, "This is the first time I've had human contact in five years."
Despite not being a Cosmosian himself, a chill crawled its way over a tensed spine. "Wait, but Lighthaven… Regent Mateus gives reports of your every order! Don't tell me…."
He nodded and dropped his visitor's hand. "Mateus was the one responsible the whole time!" he responded heatedly, "It was all just a bid for power, and I was fooled!" A fist was slammed into the wall above Zidane's head in a burst of anger. He let out a breath of air and calmed himself. "So I guess no one suspects a thing, huh?" he chuckled weakly.
"I'm not a Cosmosian, but your absence seems to be an accepted fact," replied Zidane, thinking of the Wild Rose game.
"I see…." The prince's eyes became downcast. He straightened up and glanced not quite subtly enough out the window.
Talk about drama! Still, I can't help but feel bad for the guy. Even if he escaped now, where would he have to go? Out loud he said, "Hey, don't look so blue! I managed to get in so I could probably get us both out safely! Then you can take back your kingdom or whatever. Come on, what do you say?" He put on his best smile and extended his hand again, silently offering friendship if it would be had.
"You're right!" he exclaimed, eyes widening, "But what next? I don't want my people to suffer but I don't think I can take Mateus on by myself."
"Good point. The minute you walked into Lighthaven it would all be over." He thought about it for a moment. "Maybe if you had an army… not to fight, just to look impressive," he hastily added to wipe away the look of horror.
"Maybe so. But where would I get it? It'd have to be made of non-Cosmosians. What reason would they have for following me?" Five years in a tower didn't seem to have worked wonders for his faith.
Fortunately, the other had a ready answer. "Well, if you don't mind associating with criminals like me, you could try convincing the Brigand King, to go with you and just flex his muscles at Mr. I'm-so-not-a-despot. I should warn you though, they won't be too happy to see me." It didn't seem like he could get away with the simple version of events. "I… kinda stole the crystals and booked it out of there." Oh no, he didn't see that exasperated look at all. Nope, nope, there was no way he'd acknowledge that kind of attitude from the damsel in distress. Even if the damsel was a male capable of lifting him with one hand.
He looks kind of like a damsel, he thought critically, eying the somewhat protrusive hips, Just make him a little shorter… and longer hair…
"… and a nice dress would add the final touch," he mused, only noticing he'd spoken aloud when Firion looked at him strangely. "Uh… heheh… anyway!" He hurriedly changed the subject, "I'll do what I can, but he's really into fighting. He might just punch us both out just for the hell of it."
"But we have to try. I have to try, for the sake of my dream!" exclaimed the suddenly exuberant prince. Passion blazed in his eyes and clenched fist.
"Your… dream?"
"Yes. As you probably know, roses grow wild throughout the Cosmic Plains, especially in Lighthaven. I want to be able to return to that world of roses… even if it's the last time I can." His gaze drifted out the window again, rosy dreams reflected clearly in his eyes.
Aaaannd we lost him. Man, he's no helpless princess but he might as well be a hopeless one! Shrugging to himself he idly swung one of his daggers at the nearest rose, only to find its stem hard enough to leave a nick in the blade. Well, that explains why no one could rescue him. Left with no other option he painstakingly picked the plants apart. Having already cleared a path to the tower, he focused on creating a way down, then swung up from the base and whistled for attention.
"So, ready to go, your highness?" he smirked. A beat, then the other realized what had been done. With an answering grin he climbed onto the waiting back and they were off.
There were a few close calls as they shot to freedom, Zidane being incapable of going slow, but neither so much as snagged their clothes. Finally they lay exhausted from the excitement in the Enchanted Hills. Firion couldn't help but laugh in joy and look all around himself. Freedom, at last!
"So, where next?" he panted, once more all fired up.
"Excited to be out?" his companion laughed, "Don't forget, I just finished getting away from our destination, I'll need to catch my breath before we go chasing that trouble."
"Oh, sorry," he apologized, "Uh, do you mind if I…?"
"Stretch your legs? Go ahead. Just watch out for roses, okay? I swear, those things are everywhere," he warned, curling up to take a nap. Firion watched with a smile as the tail curled around the genome's body like a cat. A quiet snore showed that he fell asleep as quickly as one as well.
He laughed softly to himself and padded off to taste his newly regained freedom. The ever-midday sky of the Enchanted Hills stretched on for a great distance, the northernmost range of the Deathly Mountains barely visible on the horizon. Looking behind him he saw the glimmering mist that rose from Mirage Marsh. He breathed deeply; there was quite a difference from the sickeningly sweet and stuffy tower air. In fact, a milder form of the scent came drifting to his nose. Looking down revealed a single red rose.
He knelt beside it and gazed into its rich petals. Already he could feel the curse's influence pushing him to reach out a hand and grasp its thorny spine. However, after his experience in the tower, the urge was easy to crush.
"So, you like roses?" asked an unfamiliar voice from behind him. He turned to see what could only be described as a leering ragamuffin of a man. His clothes could barely even be referred to as such, patched and stitched all over and yet stilling falling apart at the countless seams. But it was to his sword that Firion's eyes were drawn. Even with it in such bad shape, caked in blood; dirt; and clinging rags, he could recognize his old sword, Dream of Rose. What was this man doing with it?
"A better question would be how you got that sword," he retorted hotly, throwing subtly to the wind as was his wont. He moved aggressively forward. The man clutched it to his chest.
"Wh-what kinda question is that? I got this sword fair and square!" That was not the answer Firion wanted to hear. He strode over and grasped the man by the neck of his ruined shirt, lifting him so that they were eye to eye. His dangling feet kicked at his captor to no avail.
"Where did you get my Dream of Rose?" he demanded, using his Angry Monarch voice.
"What of- what kind of gay-" A shake shut him up. "Okay, fine! I found it in the Wild Rose River, honest! I didn't know it was yours, take it, just let me go!" He shoved the blade at him and, upon being dropped in surprise, scuttled off back the way he came. "I'll get you for this, you rosy fairy!" were his parting words.
Firion blinked in confusion at the strange encounter, then turned his attention to his sword. Even if he did find it in a river, the least he could've done is clean it! he huffed, settling down to scrape off as much gunk as he could. It was doing this task that Zidane found him some time later.
He alerted Firion to his presence with a low whistle. "That's some sword. Pretty dirty though. Did you find it buried somewhere?" he asked, obviously impressed with the stylized blade.
The one addressed held up the, for the most part, now clean weapon. It was made of a strange red metal all the way through, one that didn't seem to heat up past room temperature. He answered dreamily, "This was mine, back at Lighthaven. Mateus must've thrown it out. I got it off this vagabond who showed up while you were asleep."
"Vagabond? Who would- oh great," the other groaned, "Kind of short? Could make ten sets of clothes out of all the cloth that holds his current one together?"
"Do you know him?" He looked up from a particularly irritating blood splotch to see an expression of long suffering.
"Yeah, we're both brigands from the group that lives in Hide-Me-Away Cave. Now the Brigand King will know we're coming." He muttered his annoyance under his breath.
"Wait, we were going to Hide-Me-Away Cave this whole time? Isn't that the biggest gathering of criminals on this continent?" He found himself questioning his new friend's idea more and more with each additional detail.
"Nah, we're not all that bad," replied Zidane, a grin returning to his face, "Sure, we've got the largest numbers but the quality leaves something to be desired. The ones you really need to look out for, the elite few, live in the Cave of Thieves down in the Deathly Mountains. See, there's this hierarchy of criminals that most people don't know exists." He drew a diagram on the ground as he spoke. "Everyday criminals are the lowest of the low. Ones who show talent, like me, are invited to take refuge in Hide-Me-Away Cave. From there you can challenge the Brigand King and become top dog. But here's where it stops being so cut and dry. The other group from the Deathly Mountains kidnaps those of us from the Brigands' Desert who are seen as the most powerful. These people are then put to a test and the survivors join them. Everyone in that group wields more power than the Brigand King. They have the same process for choosing their leader, the Thief King, though." Having finished his explanation he stopped to breathe.
"Okay, I understand now. It shouldn't be too hard then?" he asked hopefully.
"It mostly depends on the Brigand King's mood. If worst comes to worst… well… better finish cleaning that sword of yours." He looked at it doubtfully. "You sure that will survive a fight? Looks kind of narrow. And a bit fragile."
"Don't worry," Firion reassured him, the mood from the tower visibly falling over him, "Dreams may look fragile but they're the most powerful force in the world!"
"Dreams- fragile- what are you talking about?"
"My sword!" he continued as if never interrupted, "My Dream of Rose. It represents my dreams… my honor… my-"
"Dream of Rose? That's the gayest-" Zidane broke off at the fierce glare he received. "Um, nicest name I've ever heard for a sword. Very… inspirational?" He half-listened in bemusement as the idealistic prince jabbered on excitedly about dreams and hope. After a few minutes and several failed interjections later he settled for steering Firion in the right direction and marched them as fast as possible. Eventually his talkative companion ran out of things to say and they stayed mostly quiet for the rest of the "day".
The next "day" they tackled the Wild Rose River, so named for the sharply jutting rocks and strange, rose-like flowers that grew like lilies across the surface. At first Firion balked but some cajoling from Zidane got him on his back. Soon they were bouncing from rock to rock across. Now there was only the Candlelight Plains between them and the desert in which their destination lay.
Firion, having never been there before, gazed in wonder at the orbs of light bobbing cheerfully through the air. "What are they?" he asked his so far knowledgeable companion.
"No one's really sure," he replied with a shrug, "People mostly just make things up. Some think they're souls of the dead escaped from the lands beyond and others think these plains are where dreams come from. I like to think they're spirits of inspiration myself."
"Where dreams come from…," he echoed, cupping one orb in his hands. It seemed to pulse in time with his heart. "I like that idea. Speaking of dreams, what are yours?" At his look he continued, "You said before that you stole the crystals and left, but why? What were you hoping to gain?"
The genome shrugged as if he didn't know, but his face told a different story. In a moment though his face was back to its normal cheer and the prince had to wonder if he had read too much into it. Indeed, the rest of the day was passed with idle banter and childhood stories. But the topic of dreams didn't come up again. He found himself thinking about it that night as he watched the bobbing orbs, unable to fall asleep.
Midway through the morning on the next day found them in the desert. Not even bothering with stealth, Zidane marched -or rather, swaggered- right along a shortcut that only brigands knew. Without it they might've wandered for weeks on end.
When they reached the infamous Hide-Me-Away Cave, Firion found himself… underwhelmed. It didn't look much different from any other cave they'd seen; just the same bulbous rock formation, almost like a sphere of grapes. Without so much as a pause his guide continued in and he was forced to follow.
"It seems so… quiet," he whispered, wincing when it was magnified to a shout.
"The boss probably ordered everyone to let us pass. Hey, if it gets us in, I'm not gonna question it." He stopped in front of a door with a stylized "J" painted across it. "Well… here we are. If you want to go back, this is your only chance."
As an answer Firion strode past, swinging the door open with as much confidence as he could muster. Lounging before him on a throne hewn from the back wall was a half-naked man with the same "J" emblazoned on his chest. The man let out a great laugh and pushed himself to his feet.
"You've got guts. I like that," he stated bluntly. Beside him Zidane relaxed. He took it as a sign that the Brigand King wasn't going to start busting heads anytime soon.
"Brigand King!" Firion cried, automatically shifting into his court voice, "I am Prince Firion, son of the deceased Queen Cosmos and Lord Chaos, ruler of Lighthaven. I have come seeking your aid to take back my kingdom from the treacherous sorcerer Mateus, whom locked my person away until one of your men saved me."
"So that's how the little thief fits into this," the king said as he glanced at Zidane, "I bet he told you I would help."
"He did suggest something along those lines," he admitted. The king grunted in response and cracked his neck.
"I knew it," he muttered, "Listen here, prince! Hide-Me-Away Cave exists so that those of us cast out from society can live without ever having to deal with it again. I refuse to be the guy who changes that, even if it does sound like a fun little scrap. You can run along somewhere else for your disposable army. And as for you," he addressed towards a wincing Zidane, "You and I are gonna have ourselves a little chat." Everything about the man screamed 'threat'. His target, who had mostly had unending cheer and courage to this point, looked as if he didn't dare flee again.
"Sorry for dragging you into this for nothing," he muttered to Firion, moving in front of him, "You'd better go; this is going to get ugly." He bravely pulled out his daggers but a certain shake could be seen about them.
"Wait, what will happen to you?" He glanced between the two brigands; both were readying for battle.
"Well, I'll be punished as a traitor but they should let you go safely." The thief tried for a laugh. It got caught in his throat.
Firion stared at his rescuer in growing anger. Run away, after all he owed him? Ignoring his protests, he stomped around him until they were facing. For a moment each just stared, the genome trying to figure out what the other was thinking. His question was quickly answered when the one in front of him pushed him, sending him to his knees. A most alarming and wrathful expression was present on the prince's face as he drew his sword. He raised it to strike-
-and lay the tip flat on Zidane's right shoulder.
"I, Prince Firion, as a son of Cosmos ask the gods-" The blade was moved to the other shoulder- "-that they bless this chosen champion-" –and moved back- "-so that he might become my Knight Protector-" –to finally be placed on his head- "-and be a radiant Warrior of the Cosmos!" –and placed back in its sheath. "Do you accept this task, Zidane the Brigand?"
His mouth dried in shock. Even in the land of the genomes many a story was known of the sacred warriors of the sons of Cosmos. If not for the absolutely serious look on the other's face he would've laughed the whole speech off as a joke.But sure enough, he could feel the white-hot power of Cosmosian magic burning around him as fiercely as Firion's –no, the Prince's- eyes.
"I- I do," he agreed. Instantly he felt the power of light well up inside him. A new strength flowed into his limbs that seemed to rise on their own. As he looked around, everything could be seen differently than before. Firion appeared to have a thorny black vine wrapped around his body. And the boss whose wrath he'd feared, while strong, had blaring weaknesses as clear as if someone had painted a bull's eye over him. For the first time since he'd joined the group at the cave he felt confident that he could take on the man.
"I'll leave everything up to you then." The prince, his task done, moved as far away as possible without leaving the room; he'd seen the battles of his cousin and guardian as Warriors of the Cosmos. Namely the destruction they caused. To his surprise, however, the Brigand King not only didn't seem disturbed, he looked ecstatic at the new challenge. He even lugged out a massive sword.
"Ha, this just got interesting!" he cheered, cracking his knuckles.
"It's about to become more than interesting!" Zidane shot back as he shot forward.
Already fast and agile, his tempo increased to the point that to an observer his movements were but blurs and his daggers left afterimages in the air. To his former boss's credit, he managed to avoid or shrug off every blow. Sure enough, his counterattack was a medley of slashes and kicks when Zidane least expected it. His strength was easily enough to send the smaller opponent crashing into the ceiling. This was a mistake.
He grasped a stalactite with his tail and used it as leverage to send himself rocketing towards his opponent. The man just barely managed to bring his sword in time to block the strike, and was unable to do the same for the following storm of blows. Only his tough skin kept him from being overwhelmed.
Eventually he needed to pause to get his rhythm back, and that was when the man struck. He planted a firmly on the ground and punched with a force that sent his attacker flying once again. This time Zidane was ready though; he back flipped and skidded to halt, then leapt forward with blades a-swinging. He was blocked but he could tell that his attacks were taking their toll on his opponent.
The man knew this as well, moving back to smash off part of his throne with his sword. This he then threw with all his might at Zidane, who just barely dodged it. It was dashed into rubble upon meeting the floor, bits of shrapnel striking its intended target. He cried out in pain and clutched the leg where he'd been hit. This was the opening the Brigand King was waiting for. He rushed forward with his arm once more pulled back for a punch, this one to crush him into the floor. But he'd underestimated the thief, who did what he did best.
He dodged.
The king's punch landed its hits on the floor in what later generations would refer to as the King's Crater. Zidane swung himself over his shoulder and struck a blow to his head. Even with all his toughness he knew it was over, especially when he felt steel at his neck.
Firion was the first to break the still that had fallen over them. "So, does this mean that Zidane won't be punished for what he did?"
"Punished?" the man snorted, "Not unless he wants to be. I've been beaten, that makes him the new Brigand King."
"And as your knight I'm required to provide the aid you wanted, aren't I?" Zidane grinned impishly, tail swishing with energy. He let the man on the floor up and the three agreed to talk over the situation.
"Well, that could work," the man, now introduced as Jecht, said doubtfully, "Except that in recent years a lot of the brigands have been leaving the cave for Lighthaven. If what you say is true, they've probably become Mateus' own personal army. Even if we did show up, he'll know our strengths and weaknesses. We'll hardly be impressing anybody."
"Well, there is one way," mentioned Zidane, "If we had some forces that they knew to fear…."
"You mean we should go to the Deathly Mountains?" asked Firion. An expression he couldn't identify crossed Jecht's face. "What's wrong?"
Before he could reply, Zidane cut in, "The elites kidnapped his son about two years ago." The father grabbed his shirt and used it to drag him halfway across the table they were sitting at.
"How do you know that? I didn't tell anyone!" he hissed.
"Tidus and I had plans that night, I was in the next room when it happened," he explained. Upon seeing Firion's confusion he suggested, "Why don't you tell the story? I only know the end." Jecht reluctantly agreed.
"Not long before they took him, I'd been kidnapped. They all thought I had more potential than they'd seen in years. But I was happy in Hide-Me-Away Cave. I refused them and made my way back. Was that ever a mistake," he grumbled, "They decided I was too strong to be left on my own and this time they came to me to talk. I refused them again and… they took him. To punish me and keep my hands tied," he snarled.
"That's why I knew I had to be the one to save him," Zidane continued, much to the others' surprise. "I thought if I did something big enough they'd come for me and then we could escape together. After two years of training, I made my move."
"And stole mother's crystals…," Firion murmured in awed realization.
"Yeah. Of course, I wasn't planning on rescuing a prince and helping him get his land back. Then again, the story does go that no one could reach you." A look of intense glee crossed his face. "Maybe that just makes me look even better!"
"So it's a twofold mission. We rescue Tidus and get the elites on our side." The prince pulled out a map. "So if this Cave of Thieves is in the Deathly Mountains, it'd make sense for it to be… here." He traced a circle around the heart of the mountains with his finger. "But that's in the lands beyond; the spirits who dwell there would never let living beings into that area. So… here?" The finger drifted east and landed in a thick patch of mountains due west of Soulhaven, a cozy little village nestled in Valley Sanctuary.
"So we go to them, huh?" Jecht cracked his neck. "I've been itching for a fight with them ever since they showed their ugly faces around here. So when do we leave?"
"Actually, I was hoping you'd stay here. They might try to use Tidus against you if you come and we need someone taking care of preparations over here," Firion explained.
"We'll handle things with the elites," promised Zidane, "After saving the unsave-able Prince Firion it should be a cinch!"
Two weeks later, waist-deep in snow, he regretted saying those words. "G-g-genome's aren't m-meant for this weather," he moaned through chattering teeth, wrapping his tail as closely around him as he could.
"W-well it c-could be wors-s-se," Firion mumbled back, "Who knew roses g-grew in places like this?"
"We sh-should've found them b-by now!" he groaned, "Three d-d-days, nothing!" In frustration he charged forward-
-into a snowdrift.
"Zidane!" cried the other traveler, leaping forward to dig him out. He soon found him pawing at a rock.
"Hey, Firion, ch-check this out." He pushed away the last remnants of snow to reveal an imprint of a hand. Covering it with his own, they were forced to shield their eyes as light sprang up from the area. A rock wall about five feet away from them crumbled down and built itself into an arch. The path continued into a cave. A single glance shared between the two and then they were scrambling off, stumbling in their haste to get to what could only be their destination. The arch collapsed ominously behind them, leaving them in darkness.
"So now what?" panted Firion.
"Now you explain yourselves," boomed a deep voice. A soft glow sprang up from the walls, revealing them to be surrounded by hooded figures. In the lead was an armored man with long horizontal horns extending from his helmet.
"We've come to challenge the Thief King!" announced Zidane. Thankfully the chatter had left his voice.
"If you are he then prepare yourself. If not, lead us to him," Firion demanded, resting a hand on his pommel to demonstrate how serious he was. The man threw back his head and laughed.
"How bold the little rodents are! Very well, prepare yourselves as well as you can. No amount of effort on your part will prevent our leader from knocking you down!" With this grandiose speech he dramatically turned and, cape whirling behind him from the force of it, strode decisively off into a glittering passage.
Through tunnel after tunnel they went, being surprised anew by each glorious treasure they beheld. Finally they reached an ornate set of double doors, engraved in swirling gilded lines. Their guide pushed them open and swept through without a background glance. He walked to the center of a room full of pillars to help support the heavy ceiling. There he knelt and said, "Thief King, two travelers have come to challenge you!" in a mocking voice. The two stepped forward, straining to see their target around the armored man's large frame in vain. An evil laugh sounded in response, though its tone appeared fake and boyish.
Zidane's eyes widened. Forgetting decorum, he rushed past the kneeling man to get a full view of the one to be his opponent. "Tidus…," he breathed.
"Zidane?" The one identified as Tidus sounded pleasantly surprised. "Garland, I need to talk to these people alone. So… you can go away now," he suggested brightly. While he didn't argue, the subordinate's disapproval was felt.
Without him in the room, Firion could see the much talked-of Tidus. He must take after his mother, he thought, feeling that strange spark of familiarity one gets when they find something in common with a stranger. Seems just as relaxed as his father though.
Indeed, after Garland left, Zidane saw his old friend return to himself. His posture loosened. A smile slid onto his face. Unshed tears of joy at their reunion welled in his eyes.
"What a sap," he laughed, the other viciously rubbing tears out of his eyes and protesting. They quickly sobered up though as he asked the question on the newcomers' minds. "So Tidus, if you're the Thief King then that means…."
"Well, when the old man didn't come after me, I decided to save myself," he replied seemingly lightly, but with an edge his honest face couldn't hide, "I had no reason to go back so I just stayed here living the life of a king, literally! I'm glad you came, these elites are all total stiffs!" He smiled and hopped down from what Firion recognized as his father's chair, mysteriously missing for years. "Now there's nothing I miss from my old life!"
"What about Jecht? He's been worried about you since you were taken away, and you won't even contact him?" protested his friend. The smile dissolved into what should've been a glower, though it more resembled a pout on the bright face.
"If he was so worried, then how come he never came for me?" He crossed his arms in a remarkably Jecht-like way.
"He couldn't, you don't under-" Tidus cut him off by turning and grasping a blue sword leaning against the chair.
"You came here to fight me, right?" he interrupted bitterly, "You're the one who doesn't understand at all! I never thought you'd be on his side." Zidane looked like he was about to argue, but soon enough got into his battle stance. Even Firion could tell that Tidus just wasn't ready yet to listen. The prelude over, the main event began.
Neither one to wait around, they both charged at each other. Tidus struck first, a leaping dash that his nimble friend dodged. The genome's blades slashed in counterattack only to be blocked by a quick turn around. He danced backwards then jumped, flipping, into the air to attack from above. Tidus jumped out of the way but had no time for a strike of his own as Zidane kept slash after slash flowing. He wanted the other on the defensive. Having sparred many times before, each knew their best chance at keeping the others' advantages from being a factor.
This was not to last forever; the combo was cut short when Tidus rolled to the side and sprang up behind his opponent, sword in hand. It was only the other's speed that kept his back safe. He tried swinging a knife horizontally while the sword remained poised in follow-through but his move was expected; the follow-through continued into a momentum-gaining spin that not only dodged the knife but also allowed for another upward swing. This Zidane blocked with his left.
Their arms shook, and that was when their eyes met. Determined blue gazed into a mirror and for a moment, their struggle slowed. Years of friendship were remembered by the duo. But the sound of fighting had by this point drawn the elites and, new audience watching in criticism, they had to go on.
Tidus used his superior strength to forcibly break Zidane's guard. But there was an advantage to using two blades. By the time he could get his heavier weapon again heading at its target, said target had a different arm there to this time parry. The other arm stabbed towards the abdomen before it.
He all but fell over backwards avoiding the thrust and decided to go from there. He kicked out with both legs, sending Zidane flying and using the momentum to regain his footing. As for Zidane, he flipped himself upright and scrambled up a nearby pillar. Tidus knew he couldn't let him get into his element and dashed forward to hit him while he was within reach. Too late though; he bashed the pillar instead, shattering it. Zidane, meanwhile, had already pushed off and grasped another pillar. He leapt around the room this way, striking out with his blades whenever he came close to his opponent. It was in this way that Tidus' clothes got completely shredded.
He eventually wised up and stopped charging to each pillar. Instead, the next time Zidane came around, he was knocked out of the air in one bloody slash. He crumpled to the floor in a spreading pool of blood.
"Zidane!" yelled Tidus wildly, forgetting for a moment his ire. He slid to his friend's side and turned him to be facing upright. Where the wound was he placed his hands to stop the blood flow.
There was no wound.
"A Warrior of the Cosmos can't be hurt so easily," Firion clarified to alleviate their confusion.
"So then that means…," gasped Tidus. He threw himself backwards and got into a ready stance.
"This is about to end!" exclaimed Zidane, jumping to his feet and running full tilt to fulfill the promise of his words.
Shaken and confronted with an onslaught of twirling blades, Tidus' defense was easily broken. Back hitting the floor he resolved not to be surprised like that again. He started to return to his feet-
-and found steel at his throat. The two glared at each other for a moment. Then the laughter came.
"Okay, okay, you win!" He held up his hands in surrender and the other moved his dagger out of the way. "So I guess this makes you the Thief King now, huh?"
"Sorry to see it go?" The victor looked around at the stern-faced elites and couldn't understand how.
"Nah, it was kind of a pain anyway," he joked, "I'll just beat up my old man and become Brigand King."
"I don't think you'll be able to do that just yet," Zidane said with a smirk. The one he was teasing bristled.
"What do you know? I can totally beat him now! Just because I lost-"
"What Zidane mean," Firion cut in, glaring at the mischievous genome, "is that he already beat Jecht. He's now both the Brigand King and the Thief King."
"Wha?"
"Tidus, meet Prince Firion, fresh from the den of roses where no one ever goes-es," he introduced with a dramatic sweep of his arm. The prince bowed to the slack-jawed youth, wondering at the strange introduction.
"Zidane was able to get in and out of my tower without getting scratched. He brought me to your father and we… worked out an arrangement." Before Tidus could inevitably lose his temper he added, "Jecht thought he was being blackmailed. He didn't want you to suffer if he tried anything."
"Y-yeah right," he scoffed shakily. Firion decided that they could solve it better on their own and left it at that. "So any reason a prince is visiting us criminal types?"
"'Regent Mateus' is more like 'Usurper Mateus', turns out," said Zidane, proceeding to sum up the whole situation.
"So I'll get the elites ready and you guys will head over to Lighthaven?" The two agreed and everything was set up. They decided to stop by Soulhaven to gear up so as not to drain the elites' resources, though Firion did snag a bow he remembered seeing his cousin use. Thus they set out for Valley Sanctuary, the only safe place to live in the Deathly Mountains.
This time their journey through the snow was much shorter. They made good time to the sleepy little village and Firion was able to sleep in a bed for the first time in five years. So eager was he to do so that he curled up immediately for a nap, leaving Zidane to gather supplies.
When he awoke, refreshed, night had fallen and his friend lay snoring away, somehow having managed to dangle himself upside-down in his sleep from the bedpost. He chuckled to himself as righted the other. A sharp growl from his stomach reminded him why he had awoken in the first place. Hoping to find somewhere with food, he turned to leave only to find it wasn't necessary. A tray with a salad and some bread was sitting on the table of their room. He chalked it up to his roommate being thoughtful and gratefully ate.
It was when he finished that he noticed an unopened letter in the form of a roll of parchment. Curious, he checked it to see that it was addressed to him. He eagerly lit the table's candle and opened it up.