My Dance with the Sword

Chapter 1: A King's Mind

Age 22 and still no documents on the fate of the kingdom. It had been nearly four years since the surprise attack on Dalmascus from Rozzarian forces. The newly crowned king of Nabradia was extremely worried about the fate of his own kingdom. With his father's death at the hands of Rozzarian calvary two years ago, King Rasler had more than his share of sorrows to contend with in life. Though the suicide of his betrothed Princess Ashelia had been abrupt, the loss it had brought to his country was just as dark.

Near white hair flew around his face listlessly as grey eyes scanned yet another casualty report on the front against Rozzarian forces. There were very few safe areas near his kingdom at the moment and stepping into Dalmascan territory was a darker threat than it had ever been in the past. He had been putting his hopes on the revival of the Dusk shard from the Dalmascan castle for the past few months, but his men had come back empty handed and barely alive. The distractions of war had not lowered the guard for such a valuable artifact, and only the use of the Dawn shard had saved the kingdom from its early distention.

A shot was heard from the west of the city, and a servant was wise enough to close off the balcony doors so that there was little chance of attack on his king. Rasler stood almost oblivious to it as he rifled through another set of documents, these of even more importance. Resistance efforts of die hard Dalmascans were still underway, though it seemed fruitless even to him, who had done his best to support it in the war. The young king did not notice his men walking quickly through the room, placing candles on the dark, wooden tables that had ancient symbols carved into them. They were lit with a quiet spell that filled the darkening room with light, and Rasler only nodded to his men who quickly filed out of the room, intent on letting him finish his work.

Rasler did look up when a cry of sorrow seemed to vibrate through the castle walls. He had been hearing it as of late, but when he inquired to his people no one seemed to notice the hollow echoes of pain he heard. The voice was female and seemed almost like a faint memory from long ago. When his mind cleared and he felt better about the whole mess, he went to an oak, high backed chair that rested near the middle of the room. A large desk of the same material was in front of it, on which he put the documents he had been holding on.

The cry echoed again through the room and the king felt the urge to cover his ears to block out the mournful cry. Instead he clenched his teeth and walked over to a large cabinet filled with healing potions of all sorts. He grabbed a high potion and lifted his right sleeve to his bicep. He poured the greenish liquid onto the still smarting wound that he had endured for the last few weeks. A mysterious aliment that his people had no cure for had been inflicted upon him in the last skirmish with Rozzarian forces. The supposed help from Al-Cid's resistance forces had failed the force he had accompanied, bring with it a devastating attack that had set his carefully laid out strategic plans back for at least the span of a month, if not greater.

Rasler sighed before wrapping a white bandage upon the wound and tying it deftly around his arm. It stung as the sap that plagued him still, an after effect of the main illness that his healers had yet to subdue. The main healers were all busy on the frontlines while only amateurs and civilians neutrally remained near the castle outskirts, ready to help if needed but inept at anything near Esuna. The blonde king lowered his white sleeve with golden embroidery to his gloved hand. The once pristine white of his glove seemed nearly grey from the darkening lights. The power of the fire spell was waning, as was common with his mages of late. Their energies were lower than ever as ethers became more and more scarcer in his kingdom. The arrival of proper materials would be welcomed gladly, but the force that was to bring them seemed to have no contact since he sent for it two weeks prior.

"Things are falling apart, rapidly, I fear." Rasler murmured, while his blue eyes took on a ghostly hue as more light failed in the large room. Rasler sighed before walking to the large, oak doors. He quickly pulled them open before the last whispers of light vanished. A timid amount of light shown into the dark room which cast a wane shadow behind Rasler as he left his study behind him. The castle which had once been full of laughter, light, fun, and monthly parties in celebration of a citizen's achievement were now blank with near despair.

His heavy footfalls echoed as the young king walked through his palace. Any look outside would show the bluish light brought forth of the newly reinstated Palin. When it had last been in use, Rasler's kingdom had lost much hope with the death of the elder king. Many soldiers had fallen in the past four years but times had become even worse with the change in rule. Rasler shook such heavy thoughts from his mind as he continued to walk his path to the inner chambers. The people he passed bowed as he came into their view, though some just nodded to the kind king, more intent on their duties than a mere formality.

His steps stopped abrupt as once more the woes of some unknown invaded the king's mind. He staggered as the force of it shook him to the core. A few men looked up from their work of moving crates to a old banquet room. Worry was etched onto their faces. Seeing the king in such a state was starting to worry all who knew of it.

Rasler slowly raised his head. He had slumped against a wall until the wails had run their course.

"Sir, do you think perchance this is another pain brought on from the injury?" Torin asked, the man's hand only inches away from touching his king. If the king should fall he would be their to steady him.

Rasler shook his head but regretted it as it caused a spell of dizziness.

"No.. It has occurred once before the injury was given, so it couldn't have been from such. I." Rasler paused as he gasped for a moment's breath.

"I am alright, Torin. Nothing of the like last forever, it seems. These moments, though increasing in frequency, are starting to become a bit more bearable. Please, continue on and worry not. I am still able bodied." He murmured.

Though it seems my sight is darkening.

He blinked his eyes, trying to focus on the dark skinned man who stood before him.

Rasler closed his eyes once more, feeling worse than before.

Torin barely had time to reach out before he had to catch his king.

"Alert the healers~! His majesty –"

Rasler fully left the realm of consciousness and entered the realm of the one plaguing his mind.

Krylancelo Note:

As you can tell, this story is written as AU for Final Fantasy XII.

Since Rasler is alive, and still struggling against not the Empire, but Rozzaria.

I am trying to write this in the old style so it seems to be in the same wavelenght as the game.

I'm trying for a love story (way later on though) and I hope to get good reviews.