Dying Is Easy
(A/N: A triple drabble in three acts. Prompt: Game Mechanics.)
-I-
Fran's corspe sprawls gracelessly over Balthier's lap. She's left him like this before - no matter - but all the phoenix downs are stolen, and the mist is perilously stubborn here. Ashelia paces; still her meters won't fill.
Vaan won't stop crying. "This place is cursed. Told you we shoulda bought more phoenix downs before we left the..."
Ashe twitches. "Vaan. I'm thinking."
"...Soulless thieving Baknamy f..."
"...I said quiet."
Cidolphus' voice drifts through Balthier's mind - A mage who cannot raise is naught but a whore. The pirate's lip curls.
"We must move on," Basch intones gravely, but Balthier doesn't bother looking up.
"Excuse my candor, but I quit. Compensation be damned. I'm staying here."
Ashe stamps her foot (bitch). "You're mad. Honor the contract, or..."
"Fuck your contract. If you can't bring her back..."
"We cannot part ways. Not here," Ronsenburg warns.
"I won't leave Fran. Spare me your arguments and go."
Penelo sobs. "We can't."
The pirate frowns wearily at her. "Go on, darling."
He's mentally rehearsed his exit a thousand times, but it's all wrong; now they're the ones walking away. Still, Fran's hair is like spider silk, impossibly soft between his bloodstained fingers.
"...I'll bring you back myself."
- II -
Mist Critical. Health Endangered. Seek Medical Attention. Beep. (click) Beep.
The mist screams; mocking irridescent mirrors of Fran's corpse ripple through the maelstorm. Balthier turns up his collar and listens for the subtle clicks of his refilling mist meter. Fran's meters blink red, feeble, silent.
Time passes.
"Professor?"
"Yes, Master Bunansa."
"In higher mist concentrations - anomalous power surges, et cetera - wouldn't the law of interspatial conservation suggest accelerated reabsorption? With training, a mage might..."
"No matter the concentration, Ffamran, a mage's reserves reabsorb at the same rate. Biochemical laws dictate..."
Ffamran blinks. "Be that as it may, biochemistry is remarkably like politics. The system in place only appears immutable."
The professor's text snaps shut. "You will not quote your father in my classroom again."
Ffamran tilts his chair onto two legs. "Fine. Never mind that he practically wrote that textbook... You were saying?"
"Naive little prick," Balthier mutters to himself. "Water everywhere, and not a drop to drink." His throat clenches. "Fran. I'm sorry."
He doesn't notice Penelo until she touches his arm. "Are you crying?"
"Raw mist. Hard on the eyes. What are you doing here?"
"I said we couldn't leave you, didn't I? We have a plan."
-III-
"...And we'll be safe in Nalbina, with Fran good as new."
Penelo's excitement at Ashelia's plan finally wrests Balthier's attention from Fran's corpse. "A port crystal? Has she lost her senses?"
Penelo's smile melts. "Should be any minute..."
Little Ffamran wanders close to the shimmering stone; Cid grabs his hand. "Filthy thing, full of memories and Archas knows all. It'll whisk you away to the back of nowhere and leave your mind in pieces. Stay close."
Balthier siezes Penelo's hand. "Close your eyes."
"What?"
"Close them!"
The crystal has them now; pulled backward through the eye of a needle, twisted, crushed, Balthier grips Penelo's hand and surreptitiously whispers Fran's favourite prayer
(Preserve Us)
...Breathing the stench of fire; the screaming terror of children wracked with pain and fear; the groans of the dying, the thunder of airships turning away from their crime, guiltless; the laughter of the man who wrought it all, mad, ecstatic-"...I am here..."
"...Fran."
Breathless, Balthier kneels on the flagstones of Nalbina's front gate. Penelo collapses against Vaan; Basch sways.
"Nabradia's crystal," Fran murmurs. "...Balthier."
Still trembling, he smirks. "Thank our princess. Contract or none, it seems she's worth something."
(Too stunned to protest, Ashelia weeps.)