Unexpected Aftershock

A Final Fantasy XII fiction.

Author's Notes

The time has come for another aspiring writer such as myself to jump on the band-wagon, and start working on a new collective work. I've already drawn up several plots and plot archs for this work, so I'm looking forward to see where I can go with it. For now, there is no official "type" of story. I planned on making it with mixed elements, such as adventure, angst, maybe light romance. We'll just have to see where it all goes. There is also no official pairings for this story, as they will be randomized later on as the story continues. Which means Larsa could be paired with a random bangaa for for all we know.

Okay, not really. But my point is, I haven't decided on pairings, or even if I want them. So it'll be left as a surprise. So for now, any early romance will simply be implied, such as into thoughts, or desires. As a final note—as the summery says-- this fic is post game, so there is a good chance there will be spoilers included. Still, I hope that doesn't stop you from reading something I actually hope to take somewhere past the first three chapters. Enjoy.

Chapter 1

Unexpected Aftershock

His dreams were filled with nightmares, each one a spiraling wave of terror, anguish. Evil spirits and thoughts tormenting so innocent a mind, one would think it simply barbaric. It seemed as though his mind was a swirling vortex of evilness, multiple faces being set before him, each one more terrifying than the last. First there came the images of the Judge Magistrates. Ghis, Drace, Zargabaath, Bergan... and Gabranth. All five of them were advancing upon him, their helmet-less faces twisted in agony, armored limbs reaching out for him. His sight suddenly flushed, the images of the deceased Judges drifting out of his vision, and was replaced with a sight that seemed to rip out his very soul.

The boy was standing in a room, plain at most, with only a few pieces of furniture. However, the room carried a strange tint of light red. Off to the right, a shadowed form stared out of a large window, beyond which there was only a dark chasm of death and fire.

"Who are you? Why are you here?" Said the tiny figure.

The shadowed figure turned to reveal the face of Vayne Solidor, his skin of an eerie green color, eyes set deep in his skull, white as paper. "You've arrived." Said he, voice over-lapped with another, as if speaking with two different sounding voices at the same time. "Now that you've arrived... please stay awhile. And I promise I won't keep you long..."

The other-worldly voice trailed off as the image of the elder Solidor shrunk, transforming into a bulking wolf, its fur black as night, with glinting teeth filed to the points, sharp as razors. "I'll keep you forever... in death's embrace." The voice returned.

The boy barely had time to react, as the monster suddenly leapt forward, its powerful jaws intended for his face. When suddenly...

"GABRANTH!" Larsa suddenly jolted upward from the desk he had been sitting in, the former guardian's name having echoed in the room. Almost in an instant, an armored figure was at the boy's side, glancing down at him with worried eyes.

"My lord, what is it? Are you well?"

The younger one gasped several times, still trying to capture his lost breath from the freakish nightmare. "I'm fine, Basch...thank you for your concern."

Basch nodded, taking all but one step backward, "Perhaps that is enough work for today... you need your rest." Apparently, the guardian hadn't even realized the Emperor had fallen asleep in the middle of his work.

"I can no longer sleep, Basch. The nightmares have very much jolted my senses. I should be able to work, now."

And with that, the boy picked up a nearby ink pen and began to write upon a parchment set before him. Basch resumed staring out the window which brought in warm sunshine, lost in his thoughts. The day was beautiful, the sky being the most gorgeous shade of blue with no sign of clouds. All of Archadia seemed more alive than usual, the various races now out in the street, doing this and that. But they did not matter to the man. All that he could think about lately... was her. He had tried to hide it, but even Vaan would be able to tell about his feelings. Even Larsa had caught him in his state of brooding. Because of this, Basch had decided to keep his daydreaming for private time, when he was alone and no longer needed to over-see Larsa's upbringing, or his protection.

"It seems something troubles you, Basch."

Larsa's voice suddenly broke him from his thoughts, he turning around to be met with the boy's stare. "I was only admiring the day, Lord Larsa--"

"You were thinking about Lady Ashe again... weren't you?"

Truly, the boy was too smart for his own good. Not that it was a bad thing, for a simple-minded boy would certainly not be a proper Emperor of Archadia. But like before, Larsa had caught Basch off-guard, seeing right through his attempts to cover it up. "Do you think it wrong that I remember her, Majesty?"

The boy shook his head, "I do not know, but I will say this only once, Basch." He paused, looking back down to his writing, the pen writing strange symbols that were Ivalice's language, "I require a guardian who is wholly devoted to the Empire, and to House Solidor. Lady Ashe is the Queen of Dalmasca, now, and you are my guardian." Another pause, he stopped writing, and looked back to Basch, as if to make sure the man was paying attention. "Do not mistake me, I am not saying it is wrong to love. But it cannot be, Basch. If you so wish it, then I will give you freedom. Free to return home to Dalmasca, and to your queen. Is that what you want, Basch?"

Basch could not speak, he was almost stunned by how Larsa spoke, weaving each and every word as though it were a master designer, creating a blanket of gold. After drinking in the words is when he managed to speak, "Forgive me, Your Majesty, I do not mean to dishonor House Solidor, or Archadia. I've fully committed myself to your protection, just as my brother had wanted. What sort of man would I be if I allowed my heart to be consumed by fickle romance, betraying Gabranth's last wish? I couldn't live with that."

Larsa seemed pleased by that answer, but continued to speak regardless, "I am glad to hear that, Basch. After Gabranth died, I thought I was all alone... he was always kind to me, but gave such excellent advice. I consider myself lucky to have gained his twin brother as his replacement." He paused, glancing down at the armor which Basch wore... it was Gabranth's armor, and it nearly pained him to look upon it. It had a familiar look to it, but the man which now wore it was far from it. It had only been a week after Larsa was appointed Emperor, and still he felt as though he barely new his new guardian. It was to be expected, of course, but he couldn't deny that it gave him a sense of un-ease. The feeling was mutual, it seemed, and that it would soon pass.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I am honored to serve House Solidor." And with that, he man moved off to the right of the seat in which Larsa sat, staring out over the open door to the room. The occasional guard or scribe passed by in the hall, barely even noticing that the Emperor sat within the study. Always, the pitter-patter of boots upon marble resonated into the room, Larsa showing an obvious disapproval of the noise.

"Basch... close those doors, please. I cannot concentrate."

Without a word, the man stepped forward and into the hall, pulling closed the double doors with a faint clatter of wood. The hall was small by most standards, a single red carpet wove in between four lines of bookshelves that lined the sides. At the end of the carpet, a slightly up-risen square of floor held a simple oak desk with two chairs, the three walls surrounding it each having two windows, for an excellent view of the surrounding land. It appeared as though Larsa was doing his daily studies. After all, he was still a child, despite being Emperor, and thus had to attend a brief schooling session which Basch over-saw.

"Basch..." Larsa called the guardian back to his side, creating a small gesture towards the paper which he wrote upon, "... I cannot figure this out. Can you help?"

Without so much as a nod, Basch took his place at the boy's side, explaining the different ways of confronting his studies.


The inside of the airship jolted, as the smaller-than-most craft took an abrupt left turn, causing its passengers to send angry mutterings amongst thenselves.

"Sorry about that!" Came a rather cheery male's voice from the front.

In truth, Vaan was getting tired of carting these Archadian aristocrats and messengers wherever they pleased, bossing him around as though he were their slave. Which, in some cases, he kind of was. Barely three days after departing from Archadia, he and Penelo received an urgent message from Larsa himself, that airship pilots were coming up short, for one reason for another. So, the two had to temporarily give up their 'freedom' in order to transport messengers, scribes, scholars, and all manner of people to different areas. It really wasn't so bad, as the thrill of piloting through the skies on his own was joy in itself. Not to mention, he could flip and turn this way and that, further angering the passengers.

"All right, Vaan, no more games. We still have more people waiting to be transported after this, so let's get back already." The ever sweet tone of Penelo's voice came from the other side-seat.

Like Vaan, she started to hate this herself. Even though she'd never verbally express it, since Larsa needed their help, so it was a good thing in itself. This wasn't the first time she had to tell Vaan to stop goofing around, she nearly shouting at him after turning a barrel-roll mid-flight. Thankfully, everyone was tightly strapped into their seats, so the worst thing that came out of it was a chorus of shouting passengers, whom were probably more willing to dive out right then and there than continue riding. But still, she knew it couldn't all be serious, not all the time at least. So, she learned to deal with it, and even let him get away with one or two antics, leading him to believe she hadn't noticed.

The communications system between the two pilots suddenly crackled to life, as a voice came over the loud-speaker, "Air Base to Tonberry One, do you copy."

Penelo grabbed a nearby speaking device, clicked it on, and replied, "This is Tonberry One. Requesting admittance into dock number zero-three-seven-five."

There was a pause, as the man on the other end registered info into the computer. "Copy that, Tonberry One. Dock zero-three-seven-five cleared and ready for landing."

Vaan quickly steered the airship into a nearby pilot dock, where there stood several lines of people on either side. The two deducted that they were the next passengers they would have to transport. Slowly, the ship turned upon one side, until it slowly descended onto the landing dock, until it finally landed upon the dock with a loud rumble. Almost instantly, two doors on either side opened up to form a step-ladder down onto the docks, the passengers quickly filing out, glad to be away from the two young pilots. "Tonberry is down, awaiting next assignment. Tonberry, out." Penelo then clicked off the small device, and set it back upon the overhead board.

Not long after, a rather gruff looking bangaa entered the airship, a strange tool clung over his left shoulder. "Looksss like you damaged the port side again, eh boy? That'sss coming out of your pay."

"I'm surprised you mongrels are even paying us," Vaan grumbled as soon as the mechanic was out of earshot.

Ignoring the comment, Penelo undid her safety harness, and stood up, "Well, since we have to wait, might as well get some air. Come on."

Vaan quickly followed suit, having been seated in the the airship for well ever three hours. It'd be nice to stretch his limbs, and get some air in him, before he'd be forced to remain shackled to the chair again. The two stepped out onto the main boarding dock, and, as they expected, another group of various persons awaited their boarding. The airship was surrounded by humes, bangaa, and even a seeq whom appeared to be the lead technician, issuing orders to the group. Vaan seemed displeased at the site of the seeq, and attempted to get away... but it was too late.

"Don't think yer' getting' away that easily, Vaan!" Shouted the creature as he advanced upon the two orphans, his massive girth jiggling in away that made Vaan dry-retch.

"This is the third time this week I 'ad ta send mah boys down 'ere to fix this ship! When're you gonna learn how to fly the damn thing, eh?"

"I'm sorry, Shur'gil, but it wasn't my fault, honest! Your mechanics didn't fix the aerial breaks, and--"

"So yer' sayin' this is my fault? I'll have you know, I'm the Emperor's most trusted airship mechanic!" Shouted the seeq, obviously angry.

Unable to take much more of this, Penelo stepped in, shoving at one of Vaan's shoulders as a sign to back off. "It was my fault, Shur'gil. I wasn't paying attention, and the ship nearly flipped mid-air. You should thank Vaan, he's the one who prevented us from crashing."

Shur'gil barely noticed Vaan's dumbfound expression, and shook his head, "Be that as it may, you can't keep wreckin' these ships. One more mistake, and you're both gonna have ta' go." Without another word, he lumbered off, attending to a hume who didn't know how to properly install a new screw.

Once the two orphans were out of hearing range, Penelo started the usual rant, "I'm tired of taking up for you, Vaan. When are you going to grow up and take responsibility for yourself for once?"

Vaan didn't reply at first, he seemed lost in his own world, always staring skyward. It wasn't until he ran head on into a viera that he realized where he was. "Watch where you're going, hume." Said the female, brushing her scantily clad figure past him, and continued on her way. With a sneer, Vaan finally faced the other blond, "What do you mean grow up? I'm almost eighteen, I've--"

"Then start ACTING like it!" The other quickly retorted with an accusing finger. "I've always taken up for you. When you were daydreaming and scraped the side of the ship into a skyscraper, nearly tearing off one door, I took up for you. When you insisted in trying to talk with a viera passenger and ran right into a flock of birds that shattered the window, I took up for you. When--" Penelo seemed content to ramble on and on about every little thing.

"OKAY! I get the picture, Penelo. No need to rub it in."

"I'm just trying to make you see that eventually in your life, you need to take responsibility, and accept punishment when you mess up. Is that really so hard to do?"

"I don't know. I guess its this place... I still hate it, I guess."

The Archadian Empire was the one who stole away Vaan's brother, along with Penelo's family. Even though it was Vayne who caused it all, Vayne was of Archadia, and it was the Archadia Judge Gabranth who killed Reks. Thus, Vaan still held resent to the Empire, and probably would until the day he died.

"And what of Larsa, Vaan? Is he not part of Archadia, also? Who helped us over-throw Vayne not long ago?"

Like always, she had a point. Maybe he was still rattled about the last battles... everything that happened because of it. It had only been a week since Larsa took up the Archadian throne, and Basch as his guardian. Having Basch as such a high position made Vaan feel as though he stood out from the rest. Just the other night, Basch allowed him to sneak into the mess hall and steal whatever food was left for himself and Penelo. However, that was only under the warning that if he was caught, he would be punished as though he were a common thief.

"Vaan?"

"Huh?"

Vaan snapped back into realization, just as a voice boomed over a set of speaker phones settled directly above where the two were standing. "Tonberry One pilots, report to dock number zero-three-seven-five. Repairs are complete, passengers are boarded, and ready to be transported to Rabanastre."

"That's us, let's go, Vaan." Penelo seemed to perk up at the mention of having to return to Rabanastre. It seemed ages since she saw the city in which she grew up. Even Vaan had a bit of haste in his step, despite how much he wasn't looking forward to being forced to fly anywhere. Still, it would be nice to be in Dalmasca again, as recently all the two had transported people to were outlaying towns and fortifications of Archadia. Sometimes people, sometimes supplies, they were like a mail system, the very thought made Vaan laugh.

Almost the moment the two stepped onto the ship and into their respective seat, they heard a dark-haired researcher remark to his assistant, "Humph, two blond pilots. I expect we'll be seeing fish swim by our windows after we've crashed into the sea."

After making sure everyone was secure, Vaan leaned into the aisle, fixing the man an evil grin, "More like stampeding monsters, since we're not passing over any body of water."

And with that smug remark, the ship jolted off of the the dock, Penelo hitting a small switch before her, and the ship burst off into the air, the screams of its passengers heard even from the dock.


Back in the study, Larsa was once again returning to his studies, although he had started out with a fresh sheet of paper, two separate piles next to either side of his hands. To his left, a small pile of blank paper, for when he had to start over due to a grievous error, or when he had to start on a new one altogether. And to his right, papers filled on almost every possible surface with micro-font, explaining one thing or another. Basch remained always nearby, watching as airships came and went from the dock, and even dangerously close to the window, much to Larsa's disliking. The sound of pen-point dragging across paper halted, as once again Larsa looked up upon his guardian, "Do you miss him? Gabranth, I mean."

Like before, Basch snapped himself out of his 'trance,' in order to face the seated boy, "I was... simply devastated when he died, right there in front of me. I do miss him... I loved him dearly."

"Even though he betrayed you, impersonated you, and even held you as his prisoner? How could you still love your own family after such a thing happened?"

Basch did not know how to approach the challenge, instead retorting with, "But look at what your own brother did... he was the cause behind the war. The reason Lord Raminas, and Prince Rasler are dead... and do you not still love him?"

Larsa seemed struck by the words, and he did not respond at first... carefully analyzing every possible meaning behind the statement, seeing if there were some hidden meaning behind which his guardian tried to trick him. There did not seem to be any whatsoever, so he deemed it safe to respond as normal. "I..."

He barely had time to respond when the two doors were suddenly thrown open, clattering loudly against the wall. In ran an armored middle-aged man who was carrying a dark cloth under his arm. "Emperor Larsa! Judge Gabranth!" The man seemed distraught, almost out of breath.

The two of them slightly jumped, appearing startled. Outraged, Larsa stood up from his seat, both hands lightly slamming on the table. "Borgin! What is so urgent that you interupt my studies?"

The man called Borgin stopped five steps away from the desk, top-portion of his body dipping forward into a bow. He reached a gloved hand upward to rub sweat off of his dark swarthy skin. "My lords... our caravans have been attacked... nearly everyone is dead."

Almost instantly, Basch stepped forward, though remembered to keep a calm air about him. He was, after all, supposed to be his brother, "Caravans attacked? By who?"

Borgin continued, "We aren't precisely sure, Your Honor, but one of my scouts tore this from one of their dead men." He halted long enough to hold up the dark cloth, which turned out to be a tunic. It was of dark purple color, the symbol across the breast being a golden-wrought triangle, with a hatchet and short sword crossed across the middle of which. Both men studied the cloth for a moment, before Borgin lowered it, and continued to speak.

"We are unsure as to exactly how or why they attacked us. But we can tell it was done with military precision. Three caravans were assaulted in less than two hours, each one completely destroyed."

"And the cargo these caravans were holding?" Larsa questioned.

"Only one caravan was actually carrying food and medical supplies, all of which was otherwise untouched. Instead of salvaging it, we burnt everything, for fear of it being poisoned by the assailants. We can only assume that this was meant to get our attention. But as I've said, it could be anyone, and for any reason."

This time, Basch chimed in with, "But hold a moment, you said 'nearly everyone' has died. You mean to tell me there were survivors?"

Borgin nodded, "From both parties. Only two of our men from the caravan holding the food survived, they're both being treated in the hospital wing. And only one of the assassins slipped up, and was captured by my party. He's down in the cell,a waiting to be executed."

Almost in an instant, Larsa had stood up, and advanced upon the other man, "There will be no executions, not until I've spoken with him myself."

Basch was right behind the Emperor, "But sire, he--"

"Silence, Gabranth! Borgin, I want you to look into this matter. Take a small platoon of your best men, and scout the area where the caravans were attacked. Also, send several men around Archadia to question people about this "group." Anything, even a name, will help us. We cannot do anything until we learn more about our enemy. As for me, I'm going to question this man myself. Now, go."

With one final bow to both men, Borgin was gone to attend to his assigned task. Exchanging only a brief nod with Basch—to ensure he would question him no more-- he started out of the door, Basch willingly in tow, servants and scribes alike stepping aside to the wall, giving a curtsy to the Emperor, and Judge Magister.