Author's Note: Here we are, my lovelies. The start of the final story. The beginning of the end. The finale to an epic. The-...Yeah, I'm done. Let's get on with this, shall we? I'm going to warn you ahead of time: since this is more of a prologue, things won't necessarily be explained right away. You'll probably figure out the influence of Lightning's appearance straight away, though. ;)
As always, this final first chapter is dedicated to my most loyal reviewers: The Giant Daifuku, HopelessRomanticist and Joshua Chung!
T i m e ' s S c a r
Chapter One
Squire
Sword in hand, a warrior clutches stone to breast
In sword etched she her fading memories
In stone, her tempered skill
By sword attested, by stone revealed
Their tale can now be told.
I am Arazlam, student of Ivalice's Middle Age. You are familiar with the War of the Lions, no?
It was a bitter war of succession that rent the land of Ivalice in two. Here we first find mention of Delita Heiral, a hitherfore unknown young man, the hero who would draw the curtain of this dark act of our history.
His is a heroism of great renown - a story familiar to all who dwell in this land.
Ah, but what the eye sees is often a mere fragment of the truth.
There was a young woman, a soldier with a piercing glare, they said; her past lost in her eternal years of life. For years I have searched for her, listened for her words, hoping to meet her, yet I have found nothing.
There is no official record of the role she played on history's page, nor the people she called her comrades.
However, according to the Durai Papers, the existence of which became known to the public only this last year - they had long concealed in Church archives - this forgotten young woman is, in fact, the true heroine.
The Church maintains she was a heretic, an inciter of unrest and disturber of peace.
Which account is to be believed?
"O Father, abandon not Your wayward children of Ivalice, but deliver us from our sins, that we might now find salvation..."
The Princess Ovelia was kneeling before the Church's altar, her hands clasped together and her head bowed. Behind her stood the Elder in his dark robes, and her holy-knight, the Lady Agrias, ever watching over her. The rain continued to pound on the faltering roof above their heads, and the distant cries of battle could still be heard. Ovelia closed her eyes and leaned forward, pressing her lips to the cold metal of the altar.
"Lady Ovelia," Agrias called, taking a step forward. "It is time."
"I'll not be much longer, Agrias," the Princess answered, smiling gently.
"Your escort may have already arrived, Majesty."
The Elder walked forward, his hand wrapped in cloth and his old eyes staring down at the young woman. "Please, heed the good lady's words, Highness," he pleaded. "You must hurry."
The doors crashed open, and three men waltzed into the small chamber without paying their respects to the recently deceased. The leader, an older man with graying hair, turned his curious glare to Ovelia, while Agrias continued to watch over her.
"Still in here, are you? It's been the better part of an hour!"
"Gaffgarion," Agrias spat, "you forget yourself, ser! You are in the presence of the Princess!"
The two mercenaries behind him automatically knelt down and bowed their heads, while Gaffgarion remained standing. A wide smirk played about his lips. "Mayhap bowed heads would less offend," he murmured. "You would do well to waste less time on idle pleasantries."
"I see even the noble Order of the Northern Sky cannot rid itself of vulgar knaves."
He shrugged his shoulders. "A guard captain in these rain-sodden hinterlands ought not to expect chivalry. We are in the employ of the Order, not of it. Our pay does not cover trite courtesies to the likes of you."
Agrias clenched her gloves fists. "Guard your tongue!"
At this, Ovelia stood up and faced the knights, her gray eyes piercing into their expressions and her red robe trailing behind her. "Enough," she demanded. "Let us be on our way. Where is my true escort, Agrias?"
"I know not. She was meant to arrive with these men."
Gaffgarion seemed appalled at the news. "She?" he scoffed. "The soldiers these days are not what they once were. You have fallen so far compared to the days of the Lost. If the Lord of the fallen Dalmasca were here, he would be ashamed."
"Mere stories of myths are not worthy of our ears," Agrias said with a shake of her head. "We do not speak of it."
As Ovelia faced the Elder, the two mercenaries behind their leader stood. The Elder took her hands in his and kissed them lightly. "The Father watch over you, child," he prayed, releasing her hands and smiling.
She returned the smile. "Thank you, Elder."
As thunder crashed over head, the doors opened once more and an injured knight of Agrias' stumbled into the Church. Her long hair was spotted with blood, and she clutched the gaping wound in her chest. Ovelia gasped, covering her mouth with both her hands.
"M'lady!" the female-knight called weakly. "The enemy is upon us!"
"Duke Goltanna's men?" the Elder questioned, turning toward Agrias. The holy-knight pushed past the mercenaries and rushed out of the chamber, into the pouring rain outside.
While the injured woman was tended to by the old man, Gaffgarion turned toward his men. "We are paid for this. Time to earn our keep," he commanded, then turned his eyes to the blond boy looking down at his feet. "What is it, Ramza? You above getting paid to do a job?"
Ramza turned his eyes upward, avoiding the concerned look of the Princess. "I'm a knight no longer. Just another sellsword."
"Right, then. To battle!"
Just as they turned toward the doorway, a woman stood in their path. With her head looking toward the ground and her light brown hair covering her eyes, it was hard to see who she was. Two small gold clasps and a metal-spun earring in each ear, a red greatsword on her belt, and the simple armor of a squire; Gaffgarion scoffed at her appearance.
"Hark, a vagrant. What is your purpose here?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.
"I am her Majesty's escort."
"Your name?"
Lightning looked up at the old mercenary, her pale face searching for the slightest hint of real emotion on his face. "Claire, ser," she answered. "I am a squire of the Order, taught to do as her Majesty Ovelia bids."
"Woman should not be welcome in the Order." Gaffgarion shoved past her, the two younger mercenaries following him as he left. Lightning sighed quietly, gazing to the Princess at where she stood a short distance away.
"You are late," she murmured, frowning.
The squire hung her head low, attempting to bow. "Forgive me, your Majesty. It was wrong of me to allow my personal feeling to intrude on my promise to protect you."
"Perhaps I might find the means to forgive you if you would tell me of what held your attention."
"I can't."
Ovelia nodded, sauntering toward the door where the Elder had led the fallen-knight. "Very well, then we best be on our way." She paused, resting her hands on the wall beside her. Her gray eyes glanced back at the woman standing near the front door. "What did you say your name way, lady squire?"
"Claire, my Lady." Lightning cast her eyes downward. "Claire Bunansa."
"What a lovely name."
The Princess followed the Elder out into the courtyard, where droplets of rain came through the weak-wooded ceiling. The clouds continued to darken, and Lightning stepped forward and looked toward the sky. Rain fell upon on her face, but she only closed her eyes and stood still, earning attention of concern from Ovelia. But the squire refused to return her gaze - the gray eyes reminded her too much of the promise she made and would, eventually, break.
There was another crash of thunder, followed by a bright burst of light, and a man stormed into the courtyard. Awakening from her moment of clarity, Lightning drew the ragnarok blade and stood in front of the Princess. She recognized the man instantly just as he drew his longsword as well.
"Hiring a mere squire as your guard?" Delita asked the Princess, smirking. "I thought you above this."
He moved to reach for Ovelia, but before he could, Lightning side stepped and raised her blade, barely wincing from the weight of it. Their swords crossed, yet he managed to grab both her arms when she passed him. He twisted them, the bones of her wrists snapping, and he was surprised that she didn't even mewl in pain. Smirking widely, the squire raised her knee and forced it against his gut, knocking the wind out of him. Delita slammed his fist against her ankle and sent her to the floor when it cracked without warning.
"Lady Claire!" Ovelia gasped, attempting to move forward.
Lightning grabbed her ragnarok blade from the floor and stumbled to her feet, her wrists snapping back into place. The young man stared at her, eyes narrowed, but as soon as he regained composure, he charged forward with his sword and ran into the squire. The blade pierced into her stomach when she was caught off guard by the look of Ovelia's eyes.
Blood pooled out from her stomach when the sword was pulled out of her and she fell to her knees, her vision becoming clouded by both red and black. Lightning fingered for her sword, but her legs gave out and she collapsed onto the stone tiled floor.
Delita grabbed the Princess by the arm, making her cry out. "Unhand me!"
"This way. Be quick," he commanded of her. "And try to make a little less noise."
"I'll not take orders from you!"
"You've quite a mouth of you, Princess." He struck her with the hilt of his longsword, rendering her unconscious. Ovelia fell into his arms, limp and languid. "Forgive me," he muttered. "T'is your birth and faith that wrong you, not I."
Above, doors crashed open as Agrias, followed by an eager Ramza, rushed into the courtyard. The holy-knight''s eyes widened the moment she saw her Princess being carried away by the young man, and the woman lying dead on the floor.
"Hold there!" Agrias exclaimed, but Delita didn't heed her words and disappeared on the back of a chocobo. "Damn!"
The two ran down the stairs and made chase, and Lightning kept her silent vigil from where she laid. When the two returned, judging by the silence over them, she knew that their attempts to rescue Ovelia had failed. The woman, Agrias, bent down beside her and touched Lightning's wet hair.
"We should have not hired you to escort her away," she whispered, hanging her head low. Ramza stood by the door, staring at the cloudy distance with an empty look on his face. "I am sorry your life was spent."
To their surprise, Lightning groaned quietly and pushed herself up from the floor. Blood continued to drip from the wound in her stomach, and she pressed a hand against it as she cast as dark magick spell to heal herself. It was the only spell she knew, having been taught many years before by a viera. When the blood stopped flowing out, she looked up in time to be pulled up by the front of her armor by Agrias.
The holy-knight was none too happy to see that she was alive. "How could you?" she yelled, her normally quiet voice shrilling with anger. "The princess is lost because of your failure! You should remain dead for what you have done!"
"It's not my fault-" Lightning coughed, pushing the hands away from her. She reached for her ragnarok blade, relieved to see that it was still in one piece, and held it close once it was in her hands.
Before Agrias had the chance to strike her down, Ramza stepped in between them and held the woman back by the shoulders. "Please, we must not fight!"
"And you," the blonde snarled. "A common mercenary! I shall not ask of why you stay."
The boy frowned, looking to his hands as the doors of the Church opened. Gaffgarion waltzed right in, followed by knights under Agrias' command. His eyes laid on Lightning as she fixed the skirt of her armored-dress, and she reluctantly met his old gaze. His words stung her non-beating heart, knowing all too well what she had done.
"You have failed the Princess."
I'll only be updating this story once a week after Thanksgiving weekend, unfortunately. I really want to spend more time on planning this out, since this is, after all, the last story of this series. *sniffle*
Anyone figure out my allusions to the previous main characters of this series, by chance? ;)