A/N: If you haven't gone through Mt. Bur-Omisace, don't read! Unless if you don't mind spoilers... By the way, I don't own Final Fantasy XII or any of the characters. If I did, certain people wouldn't have died... Sorry the chapters are short, I want to be able to update frequently. Reviews are appreciated... And on with the story!
I looked to my left. Drace was on the floor, crimson blood pooling around the silver armor. Her skin was white, sharply contrasting her dark hair. Gray eyes closed as her face contorted in pain, and I looked back toward Vayne.
"She has been tried and found guilty." Vayne looked pleased with himself.
Someone was pleading for her life, though Drace herself remained quiet, her body shutting down slowly. Even if her life was spared, there was only a slim chance that she would recover from Bergan's wound. I struggled to keep calm, I couldn't lose my composure in front of Vayne and the other judges. It would give everything away.
I picked up her sword and positioned it above her chest. Her breathing was ragged and strained as her silver eyes found mine.
"Do it. I care not." I watched as her face became paler (if it was possible) and a small stream of blood ran from her mouth, creating a striking red trail on her face. "Live, Gabranth. Protect the young lord. Protect Larsa…"
I could bear it no longer. "Forgive me."
"Pray be quick."
I prayed briefly, and thrust her sword down. I let go of the hilt, dazed. Bergan and Zaragabaath left for Mt. Bur-Omisace to fetch Larsa. I could no longer hear Drace breathing. I looked to Vayne, who had just moved Gramis' hand.
"And so House Solidor lives on."