Five Lives the Sky
Pirate Balthier Never Lived
AU. Five different alternate
universe stories.
i. anathema
He falls on his back, blinded by a Flare spell. It takes forever to fall. The time seems to pass so slowly and his breath is a ragged exhale, like dying. The tail end of another spell passes over him, leaving a trail of stars in its wake.
It is the most beautiful thing Cid has ever seen.
He turns to his side, dazed. His old bones ache. Maybe this is it, he thinks, maybe his story is coming to an end.
The world is starting to come back into focus; the aftereffect of the Flare spell is starting to fade. It is all a curious jumble of colors and lights. There are footsteps behind him, the heavy footsteps of a Judge.
"You aren't supposed to be here, old man." His son's voice. His heart misses a beat at the sound. It has been years since he has heard it.
"Ffamran," he says.
His son laughs.
Vaan is screaming his name from across the temple. He pushes himself to his feet, hand sliding over the slick marble floor. He gives the lad a weak smile. The boy is standing hesitantly at the side, distracted from helping Basch fight off, of all things, a Viera. "I'm alright, Vaan," he calls.
"I believe I told you that I would kill you if I ever saw you again," his son says.
Ashe gasps behind him. Her hand is frozen between them in the process of giving him a hi-potion. "He's your father," she whispers.
"Then you should be blaming him for helping to give birth to all this."
She is angry, a switch flipped. It is a righteous anger Cid has come to expect from her. "I would give anything for my father to still be alive."
"You should be blaming him, too," Ffamran says patiently, as if she is particularly slow. "For bringing you into this. For bringing us all here. I am merely trying to set it all right, trying to free us from this tyranny. If I had never been born, or if you had never been born, then none of us would be here." It is the talk of a madman, and then his son turns, looking over his shoulder as if someone is there. It is an unnervingly familiar gesture, one Cid remembers only too well. "But enough of this," he says. He calls down a spell that sends Cid flying across the room and he only knows what it is by the sapping of life afterwards. Scourge. All these black, dark spells.
Mad laughter and then gravity pushes him into the floor. When he pushes himself up, it is only he and the Dalmascan princess still standing. The others have been thrown like ragdolls across the room and he hopes they are only unconscious and not dead.
What a dreadful monster he has sired.
There had been a chasm growing between them ever since Giruvagen. His son had come back from that place changed, with an unholy fire in his eyes.
Another Flare spell sends him to the ground again and he doesn't think he will get up from this one. The Viera's footsteps pass near him and he waits for the deathblow, but she isn't looking at him. She is watching his son with the eternal calm that all Viera possess. He knows then that the others must be dead for her to drop her bow arm and turn her back on them. He exhales and hears the gurgle of blood from somewhere deep down. He doesn't have much time.
He opens his hands and casts the last spell he can cast. The strongest spell he has left. It starts small, a little white light that grows and grows in his hands until it is too large for him to hold. He wraps his arms around it and pulls it close to his chest. The heat of it warms his flesh, burns his skin.
Holy.
He rolls over to his knees, cradling the white-hot light in his arms. His son is laughing, taunting the Dalmascan princess.
It will be the last thing Cid ever does, the best thing he ever does.
He whispers the word that sets it free and it races across the room to its target. It pours down from the sky, that white-hot light that gave hope and burned darkness away. It surrounds his son, envelopes him in its unforgiving arms.
His son screams and it is the most terrible sound he has ever heard. It brings tears to his eyes, for no father should ever have to hear that sound, let alone be the cause of it.
The light becomes too bright and he throws an arm over his face to shield his eyes. Under the curve of his elbow he can see Ashe staring, transfixed at the sight. "Run, you stupid girl," he whispers. She cannot possibly hear him, but she still turns and runs in the opposite direction, her footsteps echoing down the marble staircase.
He sighs a breath he forgot he'd been holding and turns away from the sight of his only son collapsing to his knees and falling forward onto the floor, dead. The Viera sidesteps him, face still schooled in eternal calm. When he turns back and opens his eyes, she has Ffamran's head cradled in her lap. She runs the backs of her fingers over his cheek and bends her head over his. She whispers something he cannot hear, words that carry the notes of a sad song. Her long white hair spills over her shoulders but does not obscure the kiss she places on his lips.
It is an intimate moment Cid should not be witnessing. He turns over and tries not to cry at the sight of young Penelo's blank stare. He does not feel the cold that begins to steal his breath from him. He does not hear the footsteps that come up behind him.
The Viera buries a dagger in his back, eyes flat and cold. He turns to her, red starbursts of pain clouding his vision. "What a family we would have made," he says with a smile.
