So… welcome to this story. This is probably going to be one of the darker stories I've written, so just be aware.
This first chapter is dedicated to ElTangoDeRoxanne, fallacies, and emeraldonyxdragon because they pretty much review all my crazy Final Fantasy XII crossovers. Even if they don't like this story or don't review for it, I wrote this anyway because they encouraged me to keep writing even when I thought my ideas were getting too crazy to boot.
Anywho, please review… 'cuz then I'll keep writing… and then you'll get to see if this fict is super dark… or super cute. It's only the first chapter, after all…
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Penelo stood on her tip-toes, reaching up and over her head in order to grab a box from the top shelf of the storage room in Migelo's Sundries.
"Hey, Pen." Vaan sashayed into narrow the room behind her. "Need a hand?"
"I need longer legs," the dancer sighed, moving over so he could get the box. "But I don't think they sell those in markets, do they?"
"You could always borrow Fran's high heels." Vaan quipped, lugging the box of echo herbs to the storefront. Penelo followed close behind, fidgeting with her braid and brushing off her loose pink trousers.
"I haven't really had the need for weapons since we stopped pirating, Vaan."
"You consider Fran's heels as weapons?"
"Yes."
Vaan whistled, clearly imagining just what Fran could do with two-pronged stiletto heels.
"Reminiscing about pirating days?" Migelo plodded out from behind a stack of miscellaneous goods various people sold. "I'd better give you more work then. Wouldn't want you to go runnin' off on me again. Penelo, there's a package that needs delivering in the North End. It's right next to the Clan Hall. Go do that, please."
"Yes sir," Penelo gave him a cheery salute, picking up the box. It was very light— almost as if there was nothing in it, yet when she shook it, it rattled faintly. Jogging out the door, she embraced the Dalmascan sun, feeling the rays beating down upon her bare back and shoulders. She ran by pillars flying Dalmascan banners, not the red and black standard of the Empire, and soldiers dressed in the armor of the Rabanastre Guard.
It was two years since the withdrawal of Archadia from Dalmascan lands, and one year since the fiasco with the Cache of Glabados. Finding themselves wingless in the aftermath of that adventure, Vaan and Penelo settled back down in familiar territory, helping Migelo run his shop. They rarely heard from Fran and Balthier, but did receive the occasional expensive curio now and then. And speak of the devil…
Penelo knocked on the door of the house next to Clan Centurio's Hall. A hooded woman opened it, gesturing her to come inside, and immediately shut the door behind her, casting a suspicious glance into the street. It was dark inside; all the curtains were drawn and the windows shuttered. Only light from a lone crystal brightened the interior, and Penelo could feel her heart quicken.
The woman lowered her hood, revealing tall, white rabbit ears and a cocoa complexion.
"Fran!" Penelo cried, throwing her arms around her old friend. Fran smiled thinly, stroking Penelo's hair. "What brings you here? Why didn't you come to visit? Where's Balthier? Is he around?"
"Hush, sweet child," Fran said in a quiet voice. "For there is much danger abroad and I am being pursued. Balthier is already in the clutches of our hunters, and he is depending on us in order to regain his freedom."
Penelo's happiness drained out of her as if inflicted with Sap, immediately replaced with a business-like demeanor. "Who are these people? What do they want? Your bounty?"
Fran raised and lowered one shoulder. "Perhaps. I do not know; they have not been as vicious in their hunt of me as they were of Balthier. When we were together, they were on us like hounds set upon a fox. I do not know where it is safe anymore. Perhaps nowhere is." Her hands were busy unwrapping the package, nose twitching as she smelled it for any sort of trap. Inside the box was a note in clumsy handwriting.
FoUNd yOu
If it was possible for a Golmore Viera to be pale, then Fran was pale. Her eyes searched every corner, her ears swiveled to catch the faintest noise. There was a crash from upstairs, followed by angry shouts.
"Go, Penelo. I am sorry, I should not have summoned you here. Perhaps now, you have gotten caught up in our mess." Fran's hands were filled with knives as she pushed Penelo out the back door. The frightened girl ran down the alley, doubling back in order to view the front of the house. Men in black clothing from head to foot surrounded the building, and some were breaking windows in order to get inside. Fighting back tears, Penelo dashed away, all the way to Migelo's Sundries, darting up the stairs and into her room, turning around and slamming the door. Only then did she let the tears fall, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.
"Ain't gonna get away so easily, wench," a guttural voice growled in her ear. Foul breath washed over her face, and she gagged as she whirled to face her assailant, a spell falling from her lips. "Oh, tha' won't do, now would it?" The man slapped her across the face and shoved a gag between her teeth. "Balthier's got birdies all o'er the place, don' he?" the man's lips tickled her ear as he shoved her to the ground, binding her hands behind her back and attempting to push a bag over her head. His weight crushed her against the floor, and she squirmed, struggling as he wrestled her into submission. The man wrenched her wrist up at an awkward angle, and Penelo bit back a shriek, curling her legs under her and pushing him off. The man went sprawling, and when he got up, there was a gun in his hand. Penelo's eyes focused on the dirty barrel of the weapon.
Fomalhaut. Balthier's gun. But the hand holding it was thick and meaty, and sweating slightly. Her eyes traveled up the arm to look at the red, scarred face. No, it was not Balthier.
That was her last thought before the man's partner crept up behind her, felling her with a strike to the back of the head.
Hours later, she stirred, curling up as the first thing she felt was a throbbing pain in her skull. Someone grabbed her by a braid, forcing her head up and water down her throat, roughly pinching her nose until she swallowed. Her magick instantly drained out of her—the water was laced with Wizard's Bane. She was left alone again, nursing her headache and struggling to make out where she was.
It was a prison cell, but a rather nice, clean one. Penelo climbed to her feet, eyes darting around the room. There was a sink and a toilet sectioned off from the rest of the room, and a barred window overlooking the sea. She could hear the coarse guffaws of pirates in the street below and smell the scent of fish—Balfonheim. Penelo opened her mouth to scream for help, but nothing came out.
"It won't do to struggle, my lady. The cell you are in contains a trace amount of Silence Gas. We could not take any chances, I am sorry." A well-dressed man wearing a white mask that looked like a raven's face stood by the door. "You are probably wondering why you are here. As one of Balthier's associates, we could not take the chance that you would try to spring him from our prison without agreeing to our terms."
Penelo lunged at him, but her fist drifted through his head. The man's body flickered slightly. "You are probably wondering why you cannot hurt me. I am a Mist projection. My body lies in a coma brought on by a very special poison, a poison developed eight years ago by a certain Balthier Bunansa. As you can guess, I want to wake up now, but that is impossible without the antidote. You are probably wondering why you should care, why you should not let me and my body rot."
Penelo felt rage rise in the pit of her stomach. This man was irritating her, presuming he knew what she wanted to say and what she was thinking. What made it even more irritating was that he was right.
"In small doses, the poison Balthier developed is like an anesthesia. Enough of it can put the victim into a coma for the rest of their natural life. An overdose leads to death in a matter of days. You are probably wondering why I am telling you this. The answer is behind you." Penelo spun on her heel, staring at the only bed in the cell.
Balthier lie on the bed, as if he were only sleeping. However, a quick check revealed a fever and shallow breathing. The sky pirate was barely alive.
"To give you an incentive to find the antidote, we have administered the lethal amount of poison to his body. He has days to live. You are probably wondering why we have put him in a coma instead of attempting to get the antidote from him. He claims he has forgotten, but I know what a slippery snake he is. Get me the antidote, and we will save your pirate master. If you refuse, he will die."
Penelo nodded mutely, stifling her anger. This man talked too much. His voice, muffled by his raven mask, drilled into her skull like sten needles. She just wanted him to shut up and go away.
"You agree? Excellent. I am sure you know where it is— you and the Viera. We will release you together tomorrow at noon. Don't even think of running away." The man walked out of the room, vanishing through the door. Penelo sank onto the bed, sitting next to Balthier's comatose form. His eyes were slightly open, but they were glazed and vacant. It was as if Balthier was already dead. This was too much, too much!
Penelo did not even know Balthier knew how to make poison. He had never even spoken of poison to her before, or even used the spell for basic poison. As far as she was concerned, to Balthier, poison did not exist.
Balthier, how well do I know you— the real you? she wondered. She knew that he had told Ashe of his past, two years ago on the Phon Coast, but respecting his privacy and his status as Vaan's hero of the moment, she did not ask him of it. Penelo found herself wishing that she had thought to ask. With this thought in mind, she drifted back to sleep, slumping onto the pillow next to Balthier's head.
Penelo awoke in the morning, stretching and yawning silently.
Hello, Balthier, she thought, looking down at his body. Pity you cannot make a Mist projection of yourself like Raven-mask. Sunlight streamed in through the window, making everything glow with white light. Even Balthier's face, though pale and unresponsive, seemed to look livelier under the sun than when she had first seen him. The amusement of watching Balthier sleep like a dead man was quickly losing its charm— Penelo gradually grew bored. A shadow passed over the window. Searching for anything to divert her attention, she wandered over to the window, investigating the source of the shadow.
A glossy black raven perched on the windowsill outside, examining her with filmy white eyes. Then, it opened its wings and flew at her. With a mute shriek, she fell over backward as somehow, the raven was in the room. A quick look at the glass revealed that the bird had passed straight through the glass without breaking it. When she turned to look back at the raven, she found that it was not a bird any longer.
The raven was growing larger and larger, changing into a tall, imposing figure in frayed black robes. A hood drawn up over its head obscured its face, but she caught sight of the thing's hands. They were bones—bleached white human bones. Her breath caught in her throat as the figure turned toward her, and Penelo beheld its face.
A human skull grinned at her, its abyssal gaze staring, unblinking, into the depths of her soul. There was no doubt about it— this—thing—this creature that had come into the room in the guise of a stately raven was Death himself.
"Good morning," Death said calmly in a voice like the wash of the waves on the beach. "Good afternoon. Goodnight. How do you do, Dancing Penelo?"
Penelo was frozen with terror at the sight of Death standing over her, almost cornering her against the wall as he leaned down from his tall, sinuous height to look her in the face. She tore her eyes away from him, but no matter where she looked, she could not escape that abyssal gaze!
"I am sorry— you must be very frightened. It is not every day that I appear before the mortals, so I understand if you are scared. Perhaps this face is a little more comforting?" Death passed his skeleton hand before his face, and Penelo now stared into the face of Vaan. However, a white film covered his eyes, as if he were blind. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. "Do you object to this appearance? Perhaps this one is a little better?" Once again, the skeleton hand passed over Vaan's face, and this time, Balthier smirked at her, watching her with death blind eyes. It was too much for her to bear, and tears began to roll down her face, though still, she could not make a sound.
"I am trying to comfort you, my lady," Death said in Balthier's voice. "It is not every day that you get to see the collection of a human soul. I wish you did not have to see me do this, but Captain Fulton has locked you in the same room as a dying man. It is only natural that I come to collect Balthier's soul." Penelo's eyes widened, and she quickly moved away from the window to stand in front of the bed and Balthier's prone body.
"Are you trying to make a statement, my lady? Do you not wish him to leave? I come to all mortals, sooner or later, and his time simply has come sooner than later." Death said, still using Balthier's voice. He moved toward her, dust and smoke trailing in his wake. When he drew level to her, he pressed a bone finger to her throat, and Penelo felt the Silence spell fade.
"I won't let you take him," she cried, forcing her voice to stop shaking. "He and Fran are our best friends— I won't let you take him. Fulton said Balthier had days to live, not one night. You're here early."
"Am I?" Death asked, smiling. "Don't you think that no one would know the poison they made better than the maker? If Balthier had mixed poison himself, he would have lasted a few days, but Fulton's inept assistants have unknowingly administered double the lethal dose. Balthier's time is up right now. Stand aside, please."
"No. I—I propose an exchange!" Penelo did not know what made her say that. "Fulton's soul in exchange for Balthier's. If I give you Fulton's soul, you let Balthier go!"
Death raised his eyebrows. "You've got guts, girl," he nodded. "It is not every day that a person tries to make a deal with me like that. A soul for a soul— the exchange is fair. I am feeling rather generous today, actually. I will send you to the time when Balthier Bunansa created the poison, in exchange for one more thing."
"What is it?" Penelo narrowed her eyes.
"Normally, the exchange would include your own soul along with Fulton's. However, I am willing to make an exception for you. You're such a pretty girl… instead of sealing the deal with your own soul, why not seal it with a kiss?" Death tilted Penelo's head back with a bone finger under her chin, and pressed his lips to her own in a kiss, still wearing Balthier's face. His lips were cold, like the brush of snow against her face, and as her world turned dark, the last thing she saw was his death blind eyes.
"Well now," Death turned away from where Penelo had been seconds before. "It is not every day that a person willingly accepts a kiss from Death. I suppose I had better stay here and make sure that Fulton does not try to hasten the natural separation of Balthier's soul from his body before Penelo completes her end of the deal." He spread black raven wings, perching on the wooden headboard like a sentinel.
O_O