He~ey...this is my first story on here. Yeeeaaah...I hope you all enjoy. If you do enjoy it, you can all shout "Thank you!" to my wonderfully fantastical friend/beta, Turner97! Go visit her page if you want to read FRIKKEN AMAZING SUPERNATURAL STORIES! True story...Enjoy! 3

Disclaimer: I own my shrivelled up brain, part of my soul, and that cookie I ate. The fantastic people a Squeenix own Final Fantasy 12 and all related materials. I'm just..."borrowing".

Freedom

"Release me!" Basch shouted in anger. Behind his back, his hands pulled against his chains in futility.

His captors didn't say a word as they forced his feet forward, giving the chains in which he was bound in a harsh jerk. He stumbled, almost failing to maintain his balance. The bag covering his head was terribly inconvenient. His vision compromised, he could only feel the soles of his feet scrape the unfinished floors he was led upon.

He did not know how long he had been unconscious, nor where in Ivalice he was, but he knew why he was in this place.

His brother, his living twin, had spared his life. Basch could think of no reason for his brother's actions; he thought for certain his brother would end his life. Perhaps he still would, but why not finish him where he had finished Basch's men?

Perhaps he wishes a more painful death for a traitor such as me… Basch grunted as he was yanked forward once more, losing his balance and hitting the ground face first.

"Oh, git up!" A painful kick was delivered to his side. Basch curled his body inward as he tried to shield himself from the barrage of kicks. Waiting for only mere moments, long enough to decipher the location of his enemies, he struck out with his leg and swept one man's legs from underneath him. The man let out a yell of surprise as he was downed and the other three men paused in their attacks to watch their comrade fall. This distraction gave Basch enough time to right himself and get into a fighting stance.

"Restrain 'im!" The sound of metal clanging showed Basch where his next target would be. They might have taken away his sight, but his hearing was still well and good. He ran towards the man and plowed into him, knocking the surprised man onto the ground.

More clanging came from his right, and he turned towards the direction they had just come from, diving forward and avoiding the blades that swished through empty air. Once he was on his feet again, he advanced further, paying little heed to the angry shouts behind him. He needed to gain his location and escape. He had failed King Raminas, but he would not fail the Princess and the rest of Dalmasca as well. While the Princess was still alive, hope lived; there was a reason to fight.

He slowed his pace once he heard the curses behind him cease. He could only remember so much detail about the route he was on. Walking with more caution, Basch came upon a wall. He turned his back against it and shuffled along until he came to the end.

Stilling his breath, he listened carefully for the sounds of soldiers wandering about. Once he was satisfied he could hear nothing, he crept from his hiding place.

Oh, if only his vision had not been compromised.

Almost immediately, he was overcome by a multitude of soldiers that tackled him to the ground. Recovering from the shock, he struggled against them, but it was all in vain. He was weighted down with more chains, this time including one around his neck. As he was pushed to a kneeling position, he heard someone scoff.

"Bad move, brother."

After that, he knew no more.

Time. Time was fickle. Once so important; so vital to life...now reduced to meaningless numbers. Basch did not know what the time was; whether it was day or night meant nothing while he was restrained in his cell. What day was it? What month? It made no difference to his situation. It did not change anything.

He hung limply from his restraints as his feet brushed the floor of his…cage. He listlessly stared at his feet, so battered from the treatment they were subjected to. He almost couldn't remember what his feet looked like before he was placed in this hell hole. He had almost forgotten many things. The sun, the sky, the laughter of children running through the plaza…How long before he would forget those things for good?

A scraping sound of a door being opened echoed throughout the chamber, followed by the clangs of armor, but Basch did not look up. He knew who the visitor would be; he knew who the only person who would come to see him was.

"You're looking well, traitor." His brother scathingly said as he removed his helmet. He could feel the hatred his brother felt towards him stab into his soul with every word.

"I do hope your stay here is comfortable." The snide voice continued. Basch refused to rise to the bait his brother threw at him.

"Why do you not speak, Basch? Surely you have something to say to your own brother?"

Basch raised his head and looked into eyes that superficially looked just like his own, except these eyes were filled with hatred and anger.

Noah..."Long live, Dalmasca…"

The eyes he stared at filled with even more fury. Basch was not surprised as several guards began to move forward, brandishing their clubs.

"No." His brother commanded. The guards halted their advance.

"Resist me, if you wish. But know this: I will draw out your suffering as long as I like. I will do whatever I want with you. You have no control. None! I control you, dear brother, and you will finally pay for what you…" His brother cut himself off suddenly and clenched his jaw. After taking a deep breath to calm himself, he placed his helmet on his head once again.

"You will die here, Basch. Make no mistake about that fact. I will kill you."

Noah turned and took several steps towards the doorway before he addressed Basch again.

"I feel bad though, leaving you here without company. So I have brought someone with me that you can converse with. You both will have much in common."

As his brother left, two guards came through the entry way, carrying a large mass between them. It was a man in chains who was struggling to get free. They brought him over to the cage right of Basch.

"Please, please! I beg of you…don't put me in there! PLEASE! No, no, NO!"

The guards ignored him as they began to attach the man's arms to the cage's restraints. After the restraints were secured, one of the guards brought out a scroll. He began to read it aloud as the man screamed for mercy.

"For the crime of theft of an imperial soldier's gald, you are 'ereby sentenced to death. Do you have anything to say in your defense?"

"I didn't do it! I SWEAR! Don't kill me, please don't kill me…!" The man faltered in his plea as he began to sob.

The guard rolled up the scroll and tucked it into his belt. He nodded to his companion, who unsheathed his sword.

The prisoner howled in fear when he saw the glinting metal of the sword and struggled against his bonds.

His death came in mere moments, as the guard pierced through the man's throat, nearly decapitating him. Basch could hear the gurgling sound of blood as the man grew still.

Basch would not acknowledge the fact that somewhere, deep inside his heart, he was jealous of the man next to him; the man whose death had come quickly.

"'Ere's yer food, captain."

That was the sound Basch woke to as he felt scalding liquid attack his bruised skin. He grunted in an attempt to fight off the scream crawling its way up his throat.

He heard the guard's coarse guffaw. "Eat up!"

The guard then proceeded to throw a hardened roll of bread into the cage, which landed near Basch's feet.

Basch glared at the retreating figure as much as he could while trying to keep the red soup out of his eyes. The smell of the burning liquid, combined with the smell of his rotting companion, made him want to retch.

This was not the first time that his 'food' had been thrown at him. Because of his restraints he was unable to reach the roll, which was sitting in the rotting heap of previous food and human waste. He wondered vaguely if they were trying to starve him to death. If so, death would be short in coming.

His stomach let off a roar and he felt as though it was collapsing in on itself. It rebelled against the body it was housed in as its demand for sustenance grew more violent. Basch rolled his head in a circle as he tried unsuccessfully to distract himself from his hunger.

He was uncertain how long it had been since he had actually eaten food. He could barely concentrate enough to think of food.

Basch heard the scraping sound of the door being opened and saw his brother coming towards him, once again visiting the brother he so cruelly kept alive.

But maybe not for much longer… Basch mused, as he stared at his brother.

His brother started to speak, which was not unusual. What was unusual was the fact that he turned to one of the guards and was addressing him and not Basch.

"Why is he so thin?" his brother harshly asked.

"Maybe he just won't eat what he's given." The guard replied, smiling maliciously.

His brother was silent for a moment. Then, in one quick motion he unsheathed his sword and impaled the guard.

Everyone else in the room was silent as Noah withdrew his now bloody sword from the man's chest.

"Fetch some food and feed him. Make sure he eats it all." All of the guards scrambled towards the door, leaving only Basch, his brother, and the soldiers who came with him.

"Don't forget, Basch." His brother hissed. "I am the one who will kill you."

And with that he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room with his soldiers following behind.

If Basch did not know better, he would think that his brother did not want to kill him at all. But then again, that would mean Basch would never die.

Perhaps… Basch mused as he saw a guard enter with food that looked more like excrement. That would be an even worse fate.

His brother was here again. Why did he even bother to visit?

A dark, pessimistic voice in his head knew why. Punishment. Noah wanted to watch his brother suffer for what he did…or rather, what he did not do.

He could not really comprehend what his brother was saying to him. Something…For some reason, from either malnutrition or dehydration, Basch could not focus. He closed him eyes for a moment, trying to gather himself, before he looked towards his brother again.

What? Basch looked around. His brother, along his entourage, had disappeared.

There was no one with him; no one alive, anyway.

As if something tightly wound inside him had snapped, Basch let out a scream that seemed to come from his very soul. The sound echoed long after Basch had finally silenced himself.

It was in that moment that Basch began to think he really was going to be here forever.

The man…corpse…in the cage next to him had finally stopped smelling. Or maybe his own stench overpowered the smell of rotting flesh. Or maybe his nose had stopped working. Or maybe he did not have a nose.

Strange. Did he ever have a nose?

Oh… his deceased neighbor told him that he did in fact have a nose. That was good, Basch supposed.

He moved his head so that he was looking to his left.

Oh dear… Basch thought. His mother was back. He did not want to look at her. Too many bad memories…Wasn't he feeling bad enough already?

"Go 'way…" he mumbled, turning his head back to his neighbor.

"You know…" drawled the corpse, "I do believe that this place is not very accommodating."

Basch just grunted in response.

"I mean," the corpse continued, using one of its decomposed hands to point at the door. "They should at least supply us with reading material, so we can keep up to date on events. It is the least they can do."

Basch wondered idly what day it was. He then promptly decided that even if he did know, he would forget again.

Basch did not like forgetting things, but thoughts and information seemed to slip into a dark abyss as soon as he was able to grab hold of them.

His neighbor was now going on about the lack of windows. He could still feel his mother's accusing stare on him.

It was moments like these where Basch found it hard not to pray for death. He fought against it. He always prayed in the end.

Moments of even partial clarity were starting to come few and far between.

But...he was sure that this was real. This was not one of his hallucinations. It would be a cruel trick indeed if it were another vision his mind cruelly played for him. But…No, this was reality.

He was free. Free of his bonds. Free of his cage. Free of his…No, he would never truly be free of his brother. Not in this life…but now was not a time to muse on the future. For now, he needed to follow these people and escape. He needed to return to his comrades…hopefully they would accept what message he had to deliver. Maybe…they could reclaim this forsaken kingdom yet.

Now to follow these people...the people who saved him; the people who looked so familiar... And then he would be free. Free to fight. Free to live. Free…

Free…?