Edgar stared over the parapet, the desert lit with dozens of tiny points of light. Fires from the camps of the nomadic Firegs who gave the desert, the kingdom, and his family their name. High above, a hundred thousand more points of light filled the sky.
A heavy trap door raised itself on creaking leather hinges, and he sighed. He recognized the quiet footfalls immediately.
"I hate this place," he said quietly.
Locke paused, half-way to Edgar's side, unsure of what he'd just heard. "You what?"
"This place," Edgar said bitterly. "I hate it. What wasn't clear?"
Locke slowly made his way to the King's side and leaned against the warm stone. After a moment, he spoke, slowly. "But…it's Figaro."
"I know," Edgar said with a heavy sigh, "I know it's Figaro, but I hate it. I hate the desert. I hate the fact that my people have to scrape hand and fist to get a drop of water, to dig out a patch of land where they can grow figs or dates. I hate it all."
"But…"
"I want to destroy it, Locke. I want to wipe it all out. If I ever see another chocobo drop dead of dehydration on a dune or watch a sirocco wipe out some poor bastard Fireg's crop again, I'll die.
"Ed…what can you do about that? You're King, but you can't change the desert."
"Why not, Locke? Why the hell not? I can have a castle travel under the sand, Gabbiani and Highwind can have ships that sail through the air, and even the Empire's got their Sky Armours. Why can't I make the desert…something else?"
"Like what?" he asked with a laugh, his lilting Kohlingen accent making the question sound like a reproach. "Do you want to turn it into a forest?"
Edgar nodded and turned to his friend. "That's exactly it," he said fervently. "Grass. Green, soft, sweet grass, and trees. Give them something they've never seen outside of South Figaro. We're less than a hundred kilometres from the sea, here. Why not pump water up and change things?"
"Ed, sea's water's not-"
The King shook his head and pulled out a faded, folded sheet of heavy papyrus. "Here," he said as he handed the Kohlingener the paper. "I want to show you something. I've been working on it for the last year or so. Look."
Locke unfolded to sheet and looked at it quizically. It was a blueprint of something familar. "What is this, a still?"
Edgar nodded excitedly. "Kind of. It's-"
"You mean like the ones they make arrak with?"
Edgar shook his head and pointed to the diagram. "No," he said with a grin. "This is…It's different. Look; It collects the salt and other solids here, and we get fresh water there."
Locke nodded and handed the sheet back to the King. "OK, I get it, but what will you do with it?"
"I'll use it to bring water into the desert. Bring in new plants, new crops. Bring in…something new for the Firegs, Locke. Something they haven't seen here before. Life."
"But…How in the Goddesses names are you going to do that?
"I've ordered one to get built, at the coast. I'm going to run pipes, huge ones, from there into the desert. Fill up the old irrigation channels, make new ones. Hundreds of them."
"Ed, that's…It'd bankrupt the-"
"I don't care! Look! Look at that!" The king gestured to a lone Fireg in the distance leading a chocobo across a dune. The man was slowly making his way to one of the fires in the distance.
"Ed…"
"He's dying, Locke," Edgar said, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. "He doesn't know it, but he's dying. He's eaten, what, a half-dozen figs and a piece of dried meat today? Maybe some bread he got from a merchant caravan? The damn bird has probably eaten better than he has. Locke, I can't let this go on."
"Ed, it's…it's noble, but how can you change the desert?"
"I…I don't know, but I need to try. I can't just let this go on any more."
"What brought this on?"
"Do you remember Yasmina?"
Locke nodded. "You mean al-Curez's daughter? Yeah. I…Yeah, I remember her." She was a beautiful girl, barely a woman, that one of the Fireg chieftains had brought to Edgar as a potential wife. The King had declined - he always declined the offers his people made of their daughters - and had sent them on their way after entertaining them at the castle for a week.
"She died," he said quietly. "Did you know that? Yasmina, al-Curez's and the whole damn clan. Their oasis got sanded over during that great grandmother of a storm six weeks back. I just got news of it today. No-one had even heard until now. I won't let that happen to anyone else."
Locke frowned. Edgar was a good king, especially for someone as young as he was, but he let his emotions get the better of him too often. He'd been King for eight years, but there were times when he let his heart get the better of them. "Ed…"
The trap door raised again, and both men turned to face one of the castle's signallers. "Your Majesty?"
Edgar looked at the young man expectantly. "Yes?"
The boy held out a yellow slip of paper and nodded to Edgar. "A telegram from Narshe, Sir. Coded."
Edgar's eyebrows arched as he crossed to the signaller. "Let me see that," he said as he took the missive. "You're dismissed," he said absently. The signaller saluted smartly and retreated into the castle.
After a moment, Ed sighed and turned to Locke. "Locke, you're heading North."
Locke was only slightly surprised by the sudden command. "What for?"
"Arvis sent word, said they found…something in one of the mines. Claims it's an Esper. I want you to check it out for me, report back in a month's time."
Locke nodded and handed the King his schematic. "Here," he said "You'll probably want to hang onto this, eh?"
Edgar folded the paper and slipped it into a pocket of his waistcoat. "Thank you. Good luck."
Locke grinned as he descended the ladder from the tower. "Probably nothing. You know how Arvis gets. See you in a month."
"Bring me back something pretty," Edgar said with a wave as he turned back to the parapet.
"Something pretty…" he muttered, staring out into the night. The Fireg and his chocobo had disappeared at some point, leaving no trace of their passing on the dune.