Hello :) So, I've never written about a game before, but FF12 was the best game. Ever. So, it got my muses working overtime and this is the result!
Before you read you should know that I've taken some liberties with the liscence system. I know in the game anyone can learn anything, but for the purpose of this story, the abilities of each character are a little more specific. So, you know, Basch - sword and shield, general slash and hack, while Penelo is of a more magicky nature. Also, Arcane magicks (dark, vanish, beserk and all those in that category) are not widely used and considered less 'high-brow' than other kinds of magic.
Hope you enjoy! Oh, and please review :) :)
In a dungeon there was only one good way of keeping time. The guards brought you your meals once a day, twice if you were lucky. You tallied your days according to meals with a scratch on the wall.
Balthier counted his scratches. The days of lying in this cell had now reached nearly a hundred. Three long months of nothing but rest and bad food.
In the beginning, he had hardly been able to keep time. His injuries had kept him in a barely lucid state. Awash with pain and often stricken with fever, Balthier was fairly sure he had lost some days altogether since the Bahamut had crashed in the sands of Dalmasca.
At first he had hardly even recognised it as a dungeon. He had no memory of how he got there. No memory at all beyond a brief conversation with Fran about glossair rings and being the leading man.
Heroism, it would seem, did not curry favour among certain powers. Balthier had hoped though, that Ashe would discover his incarceration and exert some princessly power to get him the hell out of there. Three months later and he was giving up hope.
Perhaps he had misjudged the strength of the princess's feelings and goodwill towards him, though she had seemed rather desperate for him to come back alive when he was executing the heroics that had got him in this mess. There was also the chance that she thought him dead and had no idea he was being held in a dungeon by captor or captors unknown.
He was starting to feel more like his old self now. The conditions in which he was being kept did not allow a speedy recovery, but little by little he was regaining his strength and personality. He longed to escape, to find Fran who he missed sorely, even to see the stupid grinning faces of Vaan and Penelo he thought would be welcome right now. But he could barely walk, and escape would be impossible. He also had no idea if Fran was even alive, and if she was, what state she was in.
He pestered the guards for information but soon learned it was useless. They were either under strict orders not to tell him anything, or they had nothing to tell. The only other prisoners in his block changed regularly so there was not much he could learn from them either.
Of course, Balthier wasn't going to stop hassling the guards. He took to complaining about the food instead.
He had been complaining about the lack of nutritional value and flavour in his meals for a good two weeks when for the first time another prisoner deigned to talk to him without his pestering.
"You shouldn't whine so much Archadian, or the guards will be fighting the inmates for a chance to run you through," a dry female voice said from one of the nearby cells.
It was a voice that Balthier recognised instantly, but he hauled himself to his feet, ignoring the protests from his legs, needing visual conformation before his head would accept the incredible good luck of running into her.
Leaning heavily on the thick door, Balthier looked through the small grill at the cell opposite. His gaze was met by a pair of still grey eyes, set in what was probably the second most welcome face he could have seen in the dismal dungeon, after Fran's, of course.
"What did you do this time, Shyloh?" he asked, grimacing as his leg twinged, his battle wounds giving him particular grief under the pressure he had put upon them.
"Existed," she replied her face and voice dour, "is that grimace because you're not excessively pleased to see me, or are you hurt?"
"I'm always excessively pleased to see you," Balthier retorted, a hint of flirtatious charm in his voice, "but I'm finding it rather difficult to stand up due to the large amount of pain in my legs."
"You shouldn't get smart with the guards."
"Oh, it wasn't the guards – I came in like this," Balthier was unable to keep the strain from his voice as he struggled to remain standing. After a moment's more futile struggling, he gave in and sat down, knowing the small time spent standing had probably put his recovery back weeks.
"What are you in for anyway?" Shyloh asked, "what daring feat of piracy went so wrong you ended up here?"
"Actually, the last thing I remember doing was disgustingly heroic, you would have been horrified."
"If that is so, then what are you doing here?"
"Where is here anyway?" Balthier asked, "It's not the Nalbina dungeon – I've broken out of that one before."
He knew his friend didn't need to see his face to know he was smiling with pride and amusement. He didn't have to see hers to know she was rolling her eyes.
"Bervenia," she told him, "quite a distance from Nalbina."
A small sound of bemusement was all Balthier could offer in response to that. Bervenia was miles away from his usual territory, deep in the heart of the Rozzarian Empire. Come to think of it, he thought, it was outside of Shyloh's territory as well.
"Well, I heard tell of a famous sky pirate being held in one of the dungeons here, and just had to come see for myself," she told him when he said as much.
"You got yourself arrested just for me?" Balthier pretended to sound touched, but was unable to keep the sarcasm from seeping through. His annoying the guards had evidently paid off in a way he hadn't anticipated.
"Where's Fran?" Shyloh asked, ignoring him.
"I was hoping you could tell me," Balthier said, feeling a pang of worry as he thought of his partner. The Viera was tough, but she had been badly injured last time he had seen her, as he carried her through the falling Bahamut in his arms.
Balthier wished he could remember more of what had happened that day, but as solid fact faded into hazy memories he could only really recall a lot of pain, and falling. He still didn't even know how he ended up here.
"How badly are you hurt?" Shyloh asked, breaking off his musings.
"I'll live," Balthier muttered, "I had nothing to do but lie down and recover for the last three months. I would be better already but for some sort of field about this place preventing the casting of restorative magicks… Even so, I should think by the time I get out of here I will be fine."
"You've been here three months and your wounds grieve you still?" her voice was touched with concern.
"I told you, disgustingly heroic."
He fell silent for a moment, as did she. Balthier wondered if her expression was haughty or pensive. Both, probably.
"Your assumption that you were somewhere in the region of Nalbina leads me to believe your heroics were performed in Dalmasca. What merits heroism in Dalmasca that also merits imprisonment in Rozzaria? I was under the impression the war had ended," she said thoughtfully.
"Why don't you ask that Al-Cid?" Balthier suggested, "he had allusions of peace, but got the impression he didn't like me much. Competition, you know."
"What business does a nefarious sky pirate have with the House of Margrace?" Shyloh asked, an amused lilt entering her voice at his joking.
"You wouldn't believe," Balthier answered, groaning a little as he tried to position his right leg comfortably.
"I can get you out of here," Shyloh said, all jest in her voice replaced with concern "breaking out of this place will be as easy as getting in was, but if you are hurt, and Fran too, then I fear I won't be able to get you both out alone."
"Then you need to find some form of assistance and return, for I have no intention of sitting around in this cell forever."
"You have friends beside Fran who would drop what they are doing and come to your aid?"
Balthier could understand why she asked. A year ago the answer would have been no, but now… Well, Vaan and Penelo would come at least, even if it was just for the sake of an adventure.
"Yes, in Rabanastre – they keep my airship there," Balthier said.
"You entrusted the Strahl to these people?" Shyloh sounded amused, "they must be good friends."
"Desperate circumstances call for desperate measures."
"And how am I to convince these friends of yours that I am to be trusted? You have to consider that perhaps they think you dead."
Balthier hadn't thought of that. Certainly by the time Shyloh had travelled to Rabanastre there would be very little hope he and Fran were alive. And with his friends being close to the newly instated monarch would a random stranger turning up, claiming news of his whereabouts be trusted?
"Steal the Strahl," Balthier said after some consideration, "leave them a note telling them where to meet you. If they come, they come. If they don't then at least I know my airship is in safer hands. Besides, by that time I should be able to walk out of here on my own two feet."
"It sounds a fair plan," Shyloh said, "I've always wanted your airship."
"No getting any ideas now," Balthier intoned, "I'll write this note then, you concentrate on an escape plan."
"I can be out of here in minutes just as soon as the guards arrive," Shyloh told him confidently.
"What Gypsy tricks have you up your sleeves this time?" Balthier asked.
"A magician never reveals her secrets, Archadian," Shyloh said, and Balthier could almost see her winking at him.
Some hours later the guards came to bring them their food. Balthier managed to sit upright, despite the considerable pain he had inflicted on himself. The guard unlocked the door and placed the meagre tray on the floor. He looked up, challenging Balthier to grumble about it, but the sky pirate just shrugged and held his hands up in surrender.
The guard backed out of the door and re-locked it, before turning to the cell opposite.
"Hey, where is she?" he asked, turning to his partner, confused.
"Who?" the second guard asked, coming up to the door.
"The Gypsy brat," the first said, "her cell is empty."
"Pirate!" the second guard called, banging his weapon against the grill in Balthier's door, "the Gypsy girl in the cell opposite, where is she?"
"Do you think I'm in any condition to be looking out of my door?" Balthier asked blandly, looking up at the guard's impatient face, "I have no care for the comings and goings of Gypsies."
"Open the cell," the first guard said, "perhaps the method of her escape will become apparent."
The second guard returned to Shyloh's cell with the keys and unlocked the door. As both guards entered Balthier heard their heads bang together.
"Bad move boys," he muttered as he heard both collapse to the floor unconscious.
He looked up to the small grill and had to restrain a jump as Shyloh materialised suddenly right in front of it.
"Gypsy witchcraft," Balthier teased.
"The Arcane arts are not witchcraft," Shyloh said, "I'm going to look for Fran."
Balthier nodded and Shyloh disappeared from sight. He turned his attention to the note he was writing. He had to find some way of convincing his friends that the letter was actually from him, and not some trap set for the young Queen of Dalmasca.
Things were made so much more complicated when your friends were royalty, Balthier thought. Not that he expected her to come to his aid. She had a nation to run. He only needed to convince Vaan and Penelo of his identity, and though he thought they were probably naïve enough just to believe, he needed to ensure that they would, just in case they had grown up in the months that had passed.
It was then that Balthier noticed the ring on his hand, the ring that had bound Ashe and Lord Rassler in marriage.
I will return it when I find something more valuable…Perfect.
Shyloh returned just as he finished his note and sealed it.
"Fran is here," she said, "but they are keeping her subdued somehow. Glowing stones surround the room like a magic field."
"Nethecite…" Balthier murmured, "so the destruction of the Sun Cryst did naught to dilute their power."
Shyloh gave him a querying look, but he said no more, instead holding up the small message.
"You are sure they will come for you?" she asked as she took it.
"Fairly," he replied, "a young lad and girl most probably, I dare say the others have bigger problems than a wayward sky pirate."
"And how am I to recognise these two?"
"They are Rabanastran, all blond hair and suntans," Balthier said, "they answer to Vaan and Penelo."
"I'll travel as fast as I can, but it may be many months before I reach Rabanastre," she said.
"Well, it's not like I'm going anywhere in a hurry," Balthier joked.
Shyloh frowned at his blasé attitude but stepped back from the doorway, vanishing into thin air as she did. Balthier could hear her footsteps echoing all the way down the hall.
Now all he had to do was wait.
"My Lady, I am afraid we have some bad news," the guard said nervously as he addressed his mistress, "A prisoner has escaped."
The woman opposite him, sat in a throne like chair, regarded his bruised face coolly.
"Who? If it was the Sky Pirate or his Viera partner then I will be most displeased," she said, malice in her voice.
"No, Lady, it was the Gypsy girl," the guard said, daring to feel a little relieved, "she used some fell sorcery to enchant her way out."
"It is a shame, but no matter," the woman said, "I did not expect such a prison to hold her long. How fares the Sky Pirate? Do his wounds pain him still?"
"He is recovering, Lady," the guard said, "his legs will soon be mended."
"Then perhaps," she said with icy cold, "it is time you broke them again. We can't have the Gypsy brat's escape spurring him on to make some attempt of his own."
Please review! Let me know what you think xXx