Final Fantasy IV – Interlude –
A Short Story in Five Parts
Compilation & Additional Scenarios: Celes Chere
Original Characters/Story/Scenario: SquareEnix
Dream One: Solstice
One could find no more a hallowed sanctum on the Blue Planet than one of its eight crystal chambers: four on the surface, and four below ground. They contained four crystals of light, and their inverse: four crystals of darkness.
A year prior, the eight crystals had been gathered, opening a pathway that would allow those who wished the Blue Planet harm to become harbingers of calamity. Throughout the ordeal, the crystals of the Blue Planet were revealed to be a catalyst that harnessed frightful energy, expanding far beyond the previously understood concept of the crystals only being necessary to keep the planet's elements in balance.
On the eve of the summer solstice, in the year XX10, a crystal of darkness ensconced in its underworld shrine trembled, waves of indigo light bursting forth from the crystal's core and bouncing against the mirrored walls and ceilings of the chamber. As the light faded, an ashen specter appeared on the crystal dais.
It was a young woman who turned away from the crystal floating behind her, disoriented as she tried to focus her gray, lusterless eyes on the steps of the dais. She had shoulder-length hair, with a hyacinth-shaped hairpin sweeping the right side of her part from her eyes. She wore a tunic that reached mid-thigh, the thin straps of her top slipping down her shoulders and the hanging sleeves on her arms slumping down to her wrists. The cape attached to her shoulder straps was tattered, and the sash tied around her waist was hanging loosely, the bow nearly undone. Her thigh-high boots echoed on the steps of the dais as she took a timid step forward and swiftly collapsed upon the stairs with a dull "thump", her eyes sliding shut.
Behind her, the crystal resumed shedding its light silently…
"Happy birthday, Your Highness! And happy solstice!"
Rosa moaned and rolled over in bed, opening her eyes slowly.
Standing before her, with identical grins on each of their faces, were her two handmaidens, Penelope and Freya. Penelope, who had light red hair pulled up in a chignon, cheekbones the color of apples, and a button of a nose with freckles sprayed over it, was carrying a massive bouquet of pink roses that was as nearly as big as her. Behind the explosion of blooms, you could barely see the open, traditional ivory and pink robes of the Baronian white mages that were draped over her pale shoulders, covering the red peasant-style shift she wore underneath.
Freya, a maiden with deep violet curls and a complexion as smooth as almond butter, had a much more regal look – a long, roman nose, a pale, small mouth, and a slender profile that artists would line up to paint. She too wore the vestments of a white mage, the collar of her robe unbuttoned enough at the top to show a hint of her tangerine tunic. In her long fingers, she held a beautifully wrapped turquoise package, topped with a matching ribbon.
Rosa sat up, clasping her hand over her mouth as she let out a loud yawn. The window next to the bed was wide open, letting in scores of sunlight and revealing a cloudless, perfect sky. The spot next to her was empty, the sheets wrinkled and the comforter tossed back – as expected. Cecil would have risen hours ago, and as of late he had taken to not waking Rosa when he left due to her lingering illness.
"Are you surprised?" Penelope giggled. Rosa nodded and returned her smile, dropping her hand from her mouth.
"I am…thank you. You didn't have to do this."
"You only turn twenty once," Freya said, handing Rosa the gift. "This is from both of us."
Rosa eagerly pulled away the ribbon and ripped off the wrapping paper. Inside was a beautiful white silk scarf, with an ivory hand-stitched pattern of a snow-capped mountain range and curly clouds drifting throughout the scenery. It had a hand-rolled hem that someone had obviously taken very special care to stitch to perfection. Rosa's eyes widened as she draped the scarf around her shoulders, letting it tumble over the curves of her breasts and spill into her lap.
"This is amazing…" Rosa shook her head. "I…I honestly don't know how to thank you. And it's so light…I can wear it all summer!"
"You need to see it on the proper way," Penelope insisted, tugging on her hand. "Out of bed, Lady Rosa!"
Rosa knew it was pointless to resist, because Penelope would just keep needling her until she gave in, so she stepped out of bed and let Penelope guide her to the full-length, crystal-gilded mirror in the far corner of her and Cecil's bedroom, near their wardrobe. Freya followed, lifting Rosa's waist-length yellow-gold hair away from her body as Penelope gently wrapped the scarf around Rosa's neck and shoulders, tying the ends into a discreet knot and tucking it in under several looping layers.
Rosa gazed at herself in the mirror, and couldn't help but feel a little disheartened at her reflection. The scarf itself was beautiful – it would make a fine distraction from the rest of her appearance. Her once bright, wide brown eyes were slightly sunken, and dark pink circles had taken residence underneath. Her normally peaches and cream complexion was more pallid than healthy, and her lips were cracked. When Freya released her hair, it hung limply where it had once framed her face with tousled curls and poured like a waterfall down her back. She felt atrophied and weak, having not properly exercised for weeks – her white, lace chemise was hanging from her frame.
"Smile!" Freya said, patting the scarf. "You've started coming around…you've been feeling better than ever these past few days, right?"
"Yes, you're right," Rosa nodded. "I've been sleeping through the night more and more. I'm just ready for this virus – or whatever it is – to go away. I can't believe it's taken a few weeks just for me to get to this point." She sighed, and gently unraveled the scarf. "What's on my schedule for the day?"
"Nothing, Lady Rosa," said Penelope. "His Highness asked us to clear your schedule – he wants you to take the day off for your birthday. He's going to meet with all of your appointments today, and he asked us to teach the level three healing class today in your place."
"Cecil…" Rosa smiled and shook her head. "He's too kind."
"What did His Highness get you for your birthday, anyway?" Penelope took the scarf, placing it on Rosa's dressing table. "Or is it a secret?"
"Oh, it's not a secret," Rosa laughed. "We don't really do gifts – he hasn't gotten me anything since my wedding ring. I told him all I wanted was a date – so I'm hoping I feel well enough tonight to actually go on one."
"So romantic," Freya sighed. "Well, we'd best get you in the bath then so you can be on your way. What do you think you're going to do today with all that free time?"
Rosa tilted her head. "Hmmm…I think I'll go into town and visit my mother. It's been quite a while."
"I'll run the bath, Lady Rosa," Penelope volunteered. "Would you like us to pick out an outfit for you today, or do you want to do it yourself?"
"I'll do it myself," Rosa blushed, shaking her head. It had been nearly a year since she had been crowned Queen of Baron, and she still couldn't handle being waited on hand and foot. Penelope and Freya had been lifesavers when she had been too sick to do anything for herself, but now that she was starting to feel better again, she was longing for a modicum of privacy to return to her life. "I'll bring the clothes into the bath and wash my own hair today. You two probably need to get ready for the class, right?"
"Sounds good!" Freya smiled, taking the hint. "Happy birthday again, Your Highness."
She and Penelope left the room, and Rosa let out a small sigh as she pulled open her wardrobe. She couldn't wait to sink into that glorious bath, and start feeling slightly human again. She pulled out a gauzy, pale pink, sleeveless empire-waist gown, deciding that it would go perfectly with her birthday gift, and took it across the hall with her into the private bath. Penelope had already prepped the basin, filling it with Rosa's favorite perfumed soap. Rosa hung the dress on the door and pulled her chemise up and over her head. Stepping into the basin, she let out a squeal of delight at the perfect temperature of the water, and sank down until the water lapped over her chest. Closing her eyes and leaning back, she let herself enjoy the warm rays of the sun pouring in through the oversized windows before sliding under the water to wash her hair.
"Hello, Mother!"
The door to her childhood home had been unlatched, so Rosa let herself in, like she used to do when she would go back and forth between home and Baron Castle for her white magic and archery lessons. She had had her own room at the castle thanks to King Baron's generosity, but found herself coming back home more often than not. Her two best friends in the castle at that time, Cecil and Kain, were usually too busy with their military friends when she got out of classes, so she would just go home at night and talk all about her day with her mother.
"Rosa!" Joanna Farrell stood up from the table she had been sitting and sipping tea, and ran over to hug her. "Happy birthday, dear…are you feeling well enough to be out like this?"
"I'm doing much better," Rosa said, pulling back to look at her mother's face. Joanna was, in nearly every way, an aged clone of Rosa. They shared the same blonde hair, which her mother always kept piled high in an opulent bun at the crown of her head, the same wide brown eyes, and the same bow-shaped, cotton-candy colored lips. Rosa had never seen her father, since he had died before she was born, but she couldn't imagine that she had gotten any of his features – her mother always told her she had just inherited his attitude. Joanna was still a beautiful and fearsome woman – she had been nobility back in the day and one of the most prominent white mages in Baron, but she had cut her career short when Rosa's Dragoon father had passed away, giving up everything to raise the child she had not known she was carrying until several weeks after his death.
That was the main reason her mother had – and still continued – to needle Rosa about her choice in romantic partners. When Cecil had been a Dark Knight, her mother feared one or both of them would be killed on the battlefield, and tried to steer her away from him and toward Kain, who had the comparatively less dangerous occupation of Dragoon and just happened to also come from a long line of distinguished ancestry, much like Rosa's father had. Now that Cecil was King, her mother had backed off considerably, but she still had her moments…And she was about to have another one.
"You need to eat," her mother said, pushing Rosa down into a chair at the table. "I'll make you a big breakfast."
"Thank you!" Rosa smiled. That had been exactly what she was looking for – it was only recently that she could start keeping food down again, and she was craving a home cooked meal. Having a gourmet private chef at the castle just wasn't the same. She reached over and took the tea her mother had abandoned, taking a long sip.
"So…are the rumors true?" Her mother began, raising her voice slightly over the sound of eggs frying on the stove. "Is Cecil going to officially reestablish the Dragoons today?"
"Oh…well, yes," Rosa blinked. She had briefly forgotten that it was officially being decreed today, but Cecil had been discussing it with his military aides for weeks, so it wasn't exactly news to her. Since he had ascended the throne, his initial priority was to revive the Red Wings, Baron's air force. Golbez had transformed most of the Red Wings into monsters when he stole Baron's fleet of airships, and the soldiers who had survived the siege had fled for their lives. Cecil had been able to convince most of them to come back, and had to start over with filling out the rest of the fleet, including finding a new captain. Now that the Red Wings were back in fighting shape, he had moved on reviving the Dragoons.
Rosa found it odd that her mother had taken any kind of interest in military affairs. And then the other shoe dropped.
"Does that mean he's given up on finding Kain?" Her mother's voice was cool and indecipherable. Rosa sighed and gripped the mug a little harder than was necessary. If she hadn't been weakened from illness, she might have shattered it in her hands right then and there.
"Mother…we have not given up on him. And we never will. Kain is Cecil and I's best friend…"
"But it's been nearly a year, dear," Joanna sighed. "Surely, by now…" She slid the eggs onto a plate and placed it in front of Rosa, who had suddenly lost her appetite and blanched at the sight of the food. Joanna gave Rosa a look, and Rosa reluctantly picked up her fork and pierced it into the egg.
"I know it has been a year – and Cecil and I have done everything to try to find Kain and take him home," Rosa took a bite and grimaced. The food was tasteless to her now – she had to force herself to swallow it. "But...I think I've started to accept that Kain doesn't want to be found. If he did…he would be here, by Cecil's side, like he promised him."
"Why would Kain not want to be found?" Joanna sat down across from Rosa, her arms crossed over her chest. "Kain has been very good to you, Rosa. Is this really OK? The Dragoons…they were his father's legacy, after all."
"I know that!" Rosa cried. "Do you think Cecil is taking this decision lightly? He wanted Kain to lead the Dragoons – he still does. But he's also trying to build Baron back up to what it used to be, and there gets to be a point where you have to start moving on…" Rosa let the fork clatter to the plate and looked down, resting her hand over her chest. She could feel her heart pulsing wildly, and her blood was rushing so fast that she was getting dizzy. "Kain and I have spent most of our lives together – and I know in my heart that he is all right. I just…I have to trust that…or else…"
She makes me feel horrible for wanting to look toward the future…She doesn't understand why Kain left… And I don't want to get into it with her today, of all days…
Joanna frowned. She hadn't meant for this to escalate into an argument – perhaps she had pushed a little too hard. She had finally gotten used to the idea that her daughter would no longer disappear for random stretches of time, getting herself into gods-knew-what with the Baronian army. She had (happily) become complacent with Rosa's steady presence, and had fallen into the old habit of trying to force her daughter's hand again – as if Rosa were still a child, finding her way in the world.
Rosa closed her eyes, took a long, deep breath, and pulled herself up higher in her chair, lifting her chin. When she opened her eyes, they were flooded with fiery determination, and suddenly, the pale, diminutive woman before Joanna had transformed back into the Queen of Baron who had faced certain death on a moon hundreds of thousands of miles away – and returned home triumphant.
"Rosa…I'm sorry," her mother shook her head. "I just…truly just want you to be happy. And I know Kain was a big part of your life…and Cecil's. I don't know everything you went through when you joined the war, but…"
"You don't know everything," Rosa said firmly, but not unkindly. And if we're being honest…you really know nothing. "But…I am happy. Cecil…makes me very happy. Being Queen…it's more of an impact I ever thought my little life would have on this world. That's why I can't afford to wallow in the past."
I keep telling myself that, at least…
Joanna shook her head. "I apologize." She turned away, gazing out the window wistfully. "You reminded me so much of your father just now…it was like he was speaking through you from the grave. All he wanted to do was help people too. Sometimes…I have these dark thoughts…if we had known you were on the way…would I have let him go to battle that day? Would I have still followed him?" She sighed, and looked back to Rosa, her eyes tinged with redness. "But every time, I come to the same conclusion…he would have still gone…even if I had not. He loved Baron…and he would have wanted to fight for your place in this world. I tried to stamp that out of you, but…" She smiled a little. "…You just have too much of your father's spirit."
Rosa gave her a half-smile in return. It was the most she had heard Joanna talk about her father…ever. Regardless…she was tired of people like her mother and Kain assuming that they knew what was good for her, and then making decisions that hurt her instead.
Rosa drummed her finger on the table lightly. "Thank you for your concern. But what I need, more than anything, is your support…all right?" Rosa leaned in across the table, focusing onto her mother's eyes, and twisting her mouth. "I'm asking you this as your daughter…not your Queen. Please, respect the decisions I've made, and the people I've invited into my life." Her rose gold, pink diamond wedding band sparkled in the bright sunlight pouring through the kitchen, projecting a rainbow glare into Joanna's eyes that made her squint. "And that includes the decisions of my husband. Who is also your King."
Joanna raised her eyebrows, and sat back, pursing her lips together. She would have been thoroughly impressed with her daughter's backbone if she also wasn't so rattled by it. She was beginning to understand – reluctantly – the real reason why Cecil and Kain had been so drawn to her. Beguiling beauty had nothing to do with it. "You've made yourself crystal-clear, Rosa."
Rosa settled back in her chair, stabbed at the egg again, and took another bite.
Much better.
"The Dragoons are going to be mightier than ever!"
Vice-Captain Biggs, of the Red Wings, pulled off his helmet and mopped his brow with a towel that a cadet had tossed over to him before exiting the courtyard. He had just spent the last four hours sparring with what he felt were the best recruits he had ever seen since…well, since he was a recruit himself with Cecil Harvey and Kain Highwind. He had remembered as a youth being thoroughly impressed with his two fellow soldiers in training, and had admired them from afar for many years, trying to replicate them. He had been one of the few Red Wings to never leave Baron during the war – he had been working quietly behind the scenes with his younger cousin and fellow Red Wing, Wedge, to keep what little military order they could manage in place until Baron had found a new ruler. When Cecil had been crowned, he had immediately rewarded Biggs for his efforts by promoting him to Vice-Captain. Secretly, Biggs was hoping Cecil would change his mind about abandoning his post as Captain, because Biggs still had so much he wanted to learn from him, especially as a newly-minted officer. But Cecil had given up his title nearly immediately after his coronation, and nearly a year later, was no closer to naming a successor.
Biggs, Wedge, and all of the other "old guard" Red Wings and Dragoons were perplexed about Kain being MIA – but none of them were foolish enough to bring it up in front of Cecil. Rumors had run rampant that Kain had just up and disappeared one night – there was no evidence of foul play, or that he had not gone willingly. He had appeared healthier than ever since returning from the war, and had even been working on re-assembling the Dragoons himself. But then, just a few days before the coronation, he had vanished into thin air. Cecil, for his part, had never officially commented on it, but Biggs could tell in the aftermath of the coronation that Kain's disappearance had shaken the king to his core. They had, after all, spent nearly every day of their lives together up until that point. They had been known throughout the kingdom to be inseparable.
But Biggs could see none of that now – Cecil was cheerful and encouraging throughout the entire recruiting exercise today – even sparring a few of the most promising recruits himself and letting them catch a rare glimpse of the king's legendary crystal blade extracted from the moon's core, the Ragnarok. By the end of the day, all of the new soldiers had been put through the wringer and had to be practically picked up off the floor, but the air was alit with their energy and excitement for what was to come, even with the aggressive training timetable Cecil had laid out before them.
"There is more potential leadership in this group than I ever remember seeing in previous years," Cecil commented to Biggs as he rose from where he had been doing cool-down stretches on the grass. The recruits had cleared out, and it was just the two of them now, along with stretches of run-down, torn-up grass and random disposed weapons that the pages were going to come back and retrieve later.
Cecil reached back, pulling his wavy shoulder-length silver-white hair into his hands and twisting it away from his neck. Between the rapidly-escalating summer heat, not having dueled properly in months, and the heavy, ivory-colored pauldron draped over his azure and ivory leather breastplate, he was sweltering. He fetched his midnight-blue cape from where he had previously abandoned it on the makeshift throne that had been dragged outside for the day's events and used it to dry the back of his neck.
Despite being in the entirety of the afternoon sun, his skin had not taken on any color – his alabaster complexion was only tinted pink on the sides of his face from over-exertion. It was a disappointment to most women in the kingdom that their own king had seemingly been blessed with moonlit skin that they would never achieve even with all of the creams and potions in the world. His eyes, which were the same color as the Blue Planet's oceans, were so astonishing against his pale coloring that strangers found it intimidating to look him in the eyes upon their first encounter.
Cecil and Biggs crossed the courtyard in silence, each mentally ranking the recruits they had encountered today, when there came a song-like greeting. Rosa appeared before them in the threshold that led back into the castle halls.
"Your Majesty," Biggs swept down into a bow. Rosa smiled, and nodded her head.
"Good afternoon – well, I suppose it is actually good evening – Biggs. Are you done with Cecil for the day?"
"He's all yours," Biggs chuckled, "If you'll excuse me." He gently pushed past Rosa and went inside, trying not to blush. Queen Rosa seemed to grow more beautiful every day – he couldn't remember a time in his life that he had known her that she had not been crazy over Cecil, but a man could still have his fantasies.
Cecil draped his cape over his neck, not able to contain his smile when his eyes fell upon the love of his life. When he was sure Biggs was gone, he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers, whispering into her lips.
"Happy birthday."
Rosa gave a delicate moan of approval as she traced a finger over Cecil's bare, sinewy forearm and pulled away.
"Thank you…it was nice to have the whole day to myself."
Cecil grasped her shoulders, looking her up and down. "You look the best you have in days."
"Well, I had a nice long walk, ate a lot of good food…got in a fight with mother…"
"…What?" Cecil blinked, and Rosa laughed.
"Don't worry, things are all right – I think. I'll tell you all about it over dinner. Are we still on for our date?"
"As long as you're feeling up to it. I thought we could have a picnic on the overlook and watch the moonrise. It's supposed to be a full moon tonight, and the fireflies should be out."
"That sounds perfect," Rosa smiled. It was the spot they would go to observe the airships leave on their missions as teenagers, and where Rosa would watch Cecil depart when he started going on his own missions as a member of the Red Wings – It had always held a special significance for the two of them. The beauty of the scenery was unmatched when the Blue Planet had the twin moons, but even with just the one moon now, it was still a spectacular view – the best in the entire kingdom.
A few hours later, the food and cutlery had been pushed aside, and they were both laying back on the blanket Rosa had brought up from their bedchamber, watching the fireflies drift lazily above them, their abdomens flashing green and yellow in random pulses. Cecil had his hands folded behind his head as a pillow, and Rosa was resting her head on his chest and lying perpendicular to Cecil's form, her hands folded under her chest. With the exception of a few chattering insects, it was silent – any activity in the keep below that would have drifted up to them was silenced for the night, the shipwrights and soldiers having tucked in for the night or retreating to their evening posts.
"I'm sorry that your mother made you answer for a decision I made," Cecil finally said. When Rosa had told him about their fight, he had become livid and couldn't say anything of consequence, lest he let something slip that he would later regret. He always walked a fine line when it came to his mother-in-law – she had never really approved of him, and she and Rosa had always been getting in spectacular rows about Rosa wanted to do with her life before she became queen. But he knew Rosa loved Joanna, and that she was all Rosa had in terms of blood relations, so he respected their relationship and tried not to disparage her too much in front of Rosa.
"It's all right…I suppose that comes with being a queen," Rosa said softly, trying not to stir too much as a firefly drifted right above the tip of her nose, flashing its light. "I don't think she understands how lousy her timing was to pick a fight. She doesn't realize that in a week, it will be the anniversary of when the war had really started – for you and me."
Cecil blew at a strand of hair that had fallen into his eyes. It had been on his mind too – he had remembered that morning that it was only a few days after Rosa's nineteenth birthday that the impostor king who had murdered the real King Baron in secret had ordered Cecil and the Red Wings to steal the Crystal of Water from Mysidia; and with that he would commit his first atrocity in Baron's name. At this time, last year, he would have still been somewhat innocent – the blood of the slain Mysidians would not yet stain his hands, and the screams of the villagers murdered in the Mist fire that he and Kain had unknowingly unleashed upon them would not yet be imprinted in his very soul, or what had been left of it at the time.
For Rosa's nineteenth birthday, he, Rosa and Kain had stayed up all night, wrecking havoc in the castle with their made-up challenges for each other fueled by the seemingly endless spirits Kain had managed to procure from the royal stores. They had finally ran out of energy on the very overlook they were on now, falling asleep to the sound of the Red Wings' rotors tearing through the air as the ships prepared for their leave at dawn. Kain had passed out against an ivory-covered column, his long, tangled blonde hair a mess thrown back in a sloppy ponytail. Rosa had fallen asleep at his feet, her cheeks stained pink and a sweet smile on her lips. Cecil remembered watching the way the breath made her chest rise and fall like an ocean's waves, feeling the resistance he had tried to build against falling in love with her ebbing away with each sigh that emitted from her lips.
He had always loved her; Since the day he had first laid eyes on her as children, and he thought perhaps she had felt the same about loving him – a quiet and delicate devotion had been blossoming between them for years, and he was ready to take it to the next level, had it not been for his increasingly dangerous missions as the newly-christened Dark Knight of Baron. He feared that the darkness slowly closing itself around his heart would infect her too, drawing her into danger from which she would never escape, save for the release brought from of either of their deaths. More difficult than any battle or trial he had faced in his life thus far was justifying his love for her when he thought it could only end painfully.
But then a week later, he would be sent to Mysidia, and the decision would be made for him – Rosa would be captured by Golbez with Kain's aid, and Cecil would come to realize he couldn't live in a world without her. But getting Rosa back had meant losing Kain – he had confessed to Cecil that even under Golbez's control, he had been motivated in cooperating by keeping Rosa by his side. It was only after Kain had disappeared when they had returned home from the moon that Cecil realized how deep Kain's love for Rosa – or his hatred for him– might have truly been.
The three of them had never been able to properly work through everything that had happened – and now it was too late. Two of the three souls had been left adrift, and Kain's absence had cast a pall over their happiness, even if neither Cecil nor Rosa wanted to directly admit it to each other.
"Despite what your mother thinks, I think Kain would be happy that the Dragoons are rising once more," Cecil offered. "And the moment he comes home…he can take his rightful place again. I would never take his family's legacy away from him."
"Cecil…" Rosa closed her eyes, her fingers clenching tighter against each other, as if she were releasing a prayer into the universe. She felt her stomach roll as the words fell from her lips. "…What if Kain never wants to come home? When does our mourning end?" When will this veil of darkness lift from my eyes?
Cecil clenched his jaw. It was too painful to talk about Kain with Rosa – he hated to be reminded that he was reason Kain had left and that he had been the one to spur this unhappiness – and it hadn't been something he could rectify – he couldn't change what it was about himself that made Kain detest him so, or change his feelings about Rosa.
Was it really so selfish of him to want his best friend and his wife by his side? For most of his life, they had been all he ever had.
He struggled with how to reply to her question, choosing to berate himself in silence instead. Rosa tilted her head, catching a glimpse at his grimace.
"Cecil…"
"I'm sorry. It's not fair that you have to suffer on my behalf." Cecil looked away, closing his eyes. "You think it's foolish that I want him back, don't you? After all he has put us through?"
"Cecil!" Rosa drew a sharp breath. "You don't think I could possibly blame you for wanting our friend back, do you? When we got home…it felt like the world was ours for the taking, and that we could finally grasp at some of our own happiness. And now, I'm just worried we are holding our breath for something that may never happen. We've expended so much effort to find him, but it has amounted to naught…"
Cecil couldn't bring himself to say anymore, and the painfully awkward minutes ticked by. When he opened his eyes and turned to shift his body, he saw that Rosa had fallen asleep. Despite recovering from illness, to Cecil, she looked exactly the same as she had one year prior when he had watched her fall asleep in this very same place, right before everything in their lives had gone to hell. He knew on the inside, however, she had to have been as twisted with scar tissue as he was – why couldn't he bring himself to tell her that her question had stirred an unsettling fear in his heart?
Kain has never not been part of our lives…what does it mean for us if he never comes home? Even if you don't blame me now…I fear the day will come when you will. And all I will be able to do is accept it…
"I've found it…"
Cecil opened his eyes at the sound of the unfamiliar, androgynous voice reverberating in the far distance. He was surrounded in complete and total darkness – he couldn't even make out the sight of his hands in front of his face.
"A new form…"
The voice spoke again. Cecil took a hesitant step forward, and a glowing sphere of jade light appeared before him, floating delicately just out of reach. The color reminded him of something…or someone…it held such an ethereal glow…but his mind was drawing a blank. A brilliant flash of green…like a dragoon's armor, or precious gem stones…
"Who's there?" Cecil asked, his voice met with an echo.
Who's there? Who's there? Who's there…?
The sphere pulsed as the mysterious voice replied, sounding much closer this time – it was practically hissing in Cecil's ear.
"You cannot comprehend my existence, but still I will tell you. I am…"
"Cecil…"
Cecil frowned, shaking his head. "What?"
Light began to shine upon Cecil and the sphere from above, banishing the darkness around them. The jade light faded away, and before Cecil could make out his surroundings, a new voice whispered in his ear.
"Wake up, Cecil! It's time."
Cecil's eyes snapped open, and he found himself bathed in sunlight, in his own bed again.
What…what the hell was that?
Rosa was kneeling beside him on the bed. She was dressed in her old traveling garments, a white and pink bustier leotard with a transparent gold and pink cloak flowing down her shoulders, an ivory sash tied around her waist to carry provisions, and pink and white knee-high boots. Her wrists and forearms were wrapped in pink bracers, and her hair was swept up into a ponytail, the only hint of her royalty the small diamond tiara she had tucked in her hair.
"Are you all right?" Rosa tilted her head. "You were flailing about like you were having a terrible nightmare…"
Cecil sat up, pushing the blankets away from his bare chest and torso, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly hot. It had been so long since he had any kind of dreams like that, that he had nearly forgotten how draining they were. He had fallen into a dead sleep after he had carried Rosa back to their room the night before, but he felt like he had gotten only an hour's worth of rest.
But the dream was already fading from his mind – so maybe it couldn't have been that important.
"Mmmm…it was nothing," Cecil said, shaking his head.
Rosa was looking at him with such grave concern – he wondered if she realized he had never answered her last night and if she thought he was intentionally avoiding her now. She pushed herself up off the bed, and Cecil attempted to crack a smile, but she still didn't look like she was buying it.
Doesn't Cecil realize that I know by now when he's trying to hide something from me? Rosa thought impatiently.
"Well…" She crossed her arms over her chest. Cecil hadn't had a dream that intense since they had returned home from the moon – perhaps something in their conversation last night had triggered it. She had woken up with a twinge of regret that morning – she didn't remember being taken to bed, but she remembered how heavy her heart had felt before drifting off. It had been something Cecil had said – or rather, what he didn't say.
As for Rosa, her dreams had been foggy, indecipherable – the only detail she could remember was the sound of a heartbeat resonating in the distance – subtle and weak – perhaps her own. Waking up had felt like someone splashed water on her face and washed any trace of the dream away.
"…Today is the ceremony to celebrate the reconstruction of Damcyan…so we really should be going soon. The Red Wings are ready and waiting."
"Of course!" Cecil said, grateful for the change of subject. He swung his legs out of bed and jumped up, kissing Rosa on the cheek. She looked better than she had last night, at least – and if she was up before him, that too was a promising sign. "Why don't you meet me in the ship, and I'll be down soon? You shouldn't be on your feet so much yet – but I'm glad you're feeling well enough to join me. It wouldn't be the same for us to celebrate without you."
Rosa relented just a little, but kissed him back. Cecil might be nervous about today…it will be his first time back in Damcyan since the Red Wings destroyed the kingdom, after all. I'm sure this is a day of both excitement and closure for him.
"…I'll see you outside." She strode out of the bedroom, reaching out to grab her crossbow and arrows and pausing to look back at him briefly before closing the door behind her.
As Cecil got dressed, he caught a glimpse of the moon through the window, which was still visible even in the early morning sky. He thought about how today would be the first official day of training for the new class of Dragoons – he was sad to miss it, but he still didn't think his presence would be missed nearly as much as Kain's. He could tell by the confusion of the newer recruits yesterday that they had expected the rumors about Kain to not be true, and that the war hero son of legendary Dragoon Richard Highwind would be there to drill them into glory.
Kain…are you somewhere that you can see the moon as well? Cecil thought to himself as he fastened his traveling cloak. I still think that when word spreads to the corners of the globe that the Dragoons are back, you will finally return to us. And then we can really talk about everything – and put the past to rest once and for all.
Even with all that had changed in the past year, everything in Baron still reminded Cecil of Kain – his presence still haunted the castle and village as if he had never left.
Every morning that Cecil crossed the threshold into the throne room, he thought about how the last time he and Kain had been in there together was when the imposter King Baron had stripped Cecil of his title of Captain of the Red Wings, and Kain had come bursting inside – telling off the fake King and the Captain of the Guard, Baigan, before getting both himself and Cecil thrown out on their rears. Whenever he crossed the courtyards that led to the castle gates, he saw his adolescent self and Kain play-fighting in the grass, sometimes to impress Rosa, who would spy on them from the walkways above during archery practice, and sometimes to remind each other that deep in the substratum of their friendship, an intense rivalry still burned. Every week that Cecil would take meetings in town to meet with villagers who couldn't travel to the castle, he passed by the pub inside the Baron Inn in which he and Kain would drink themselves to oblivion after successful missions (well, mostly Kain, as Cecil could never really handle his alcohol, and was now sorely out of practice with Kain gone), marveling about how much better life could possibly get for two of Baron's best soldiers who had already achieved most of their dreams at such a young age.
As Cecil approached the two airships docked several yards away, the wind from their respective propellers whipped his hair back from his face, and he could hear the leaves of the trees around him rustling among the chirps of the cicadas that had woken from their seventeen-year slumber cycle. The last time Cecil had heard a cicada's cry, he had been but a small child, and hadn't even met Kain yet. It wouldn't be until a few years later that Kain's father would die from a mysterious illness that would bring Kain to the castle full-time as one of King Baron's other "sons". He wondered if they were destined to never hear one of the hallmarks of a Baronian summer together.
Kain…Rosa and I still need you. Please, forgive us…and come home.
"Cecil! You're late!"
A booming voice shook Cecil out of his reverie, and he saw Baron Chief Engineer Cid Pollendina waving at him from the first ship, which belonged to the Red Wings. Cecil jogged over, and he looked up – he could see Biggs at the steering wheel, and Wedge at the helm, but Rosa was nowhere to be seen. She must have already gone to the hold below to escape the heat, Cecil thought.
"Rosa is inside," Cid said, reminding Cecil that he could still read his facial cues like a book. Cecil laughed a little and sheepishly crossed his arms. He thought if he had a bushy red beard like Cid's and goggles to cover half his face, his features wouldn't betray his emotions nearly as often.
"Sorry I'm late – weird dream."
"We've been ready and raring to go for ages!" Cid chastised, but he said it with an underlying kindness. No matter what Cecil did – or didn't do – Cid still thought of him as the son he never had. He loved his daughter Amelia, – immensely – but being a workaholic and a mourning widower at a young age, Cid had spent most of his adult life in the shipyards of Baron's castle, and as a result had grown very close to Cecil, Kain and Rosa. When Cid had returned home to Baron after recovering from grievous injuries he had sustained in the Underworld during the war, he had realized Amelia had the patience of a saint to deal with a flighty bastard like himself, and had vowed to cut down his hours at the castle and spend more time with her. She was only a few years older than Cecil, after all, and still needed her daddy. At least, that was what he had thought until she announced she had found a suitor while vacationing in Kaipo and started ditching Cid for him. Now Amelia was the one who was hardly home, and Cid was the one moping around, begging Cecil for more work – but even with Baron's explosive growth in the past year, Cecil couldn't keep up with Cid's demands for activity.
"Are you riding separately?" Cecil asked, pointing to the other ship.
"Yeah, I'm gonna follow behind in the Enterprise after I pick up the twins and the Elder from Mysidia, so you go on ahead to Damcyan. You got that?"
"Aye-aye," Cecil saluted Cid, and walked up the ramp that had been extended for him to board the ship. Cid gave a wave and started walking over to the Enterprise, where a skeleton crew was awaiting his orders. Cecil assumed that Cid would pilot himself, as per usual.
"Welcome aboard, Sir!" Wedge exclaimed. He was several years younger than his cousin Biggs, and had technically been just a cadet when the war had started last year. His first mission had been with Cecil to steal the Water Crystal from Mysidia, and despite the tumultuous turn life as a Red Wing had taken shortly after, he had remained fiercely loyal to Baron, which Cecil made sure to thank him for as much as possible. Wedge was still green, but loyal – there were few men that Cecil would trust to shepherd his family across the world in an airship. Cecil slapped his hand on Wedge's back appreciatively, and Wedge tried not to smile through the serious look on his face he was trying to portray.
"W-what do you think of your Red Wings, sir?" Wedge asked, his voice nearly cracking. "We've tried to keep standards up since we lost you as Captain…"
"I think everything looks great," Cecil said kindly, and Biggs walked over, wondering if his cousin needed rescued before he launched himself off the ship in pure joy.
"Are you ready to depart, Your Highness?" Biggs asked, and Wedge took the reprieve to compose himself, scampering over to a sail to make adjustments. Next to them, the Enterprise was rising in the air, and positioning itself southeast.
"Let's go," Cecil said. "We haven't seen our friends together in one place since the wedding…I've been looking forward to this." Biggs nodded and took the wheel, calling out some instructions for Wedge and the rest of the crew. The ship began to rise from the ground, and Cecil descended into the hold to look for Rosa. He found her in a small room that acted as an overflow berthing area for when soldiers would need to sleep on the ships during missions. She was curled up on a bottom bunk against a wall, using her rolled-up cloak as a pillow, and fast asleep.
Cecil sat down beside her, pushing some hair that had come loose from her ponytail off of her face and mouth. As he did so, he thought he felt a flush on her cheek, and rested his palm against her skin. It was slightly warmer than normal, but nothing he thought should warrant serious concern. She stirred gently under his touch, but didn't wake up.
There was a slight smile in the curve of her lips. Cecil hoped she was having a beautiful dream.
The Feymarch was buzzing with activity that morning. Queen Asura was due to arrive home from her annual survey of the phantom plane beyond the borders of their little town, and the eidolons were in a tizzy to make sure everything looked perfect for her upon her return. It was rare that Asura ever left her luxurious post in the library's basement, which was filled with opulence and treasures from ancient times before there were even summoners to call upon eidolons. Their queen was one that was known for appreciating objects, eidolons and humans of great beauty. So, her subjects always took the time she was away as an opportunity to beautify the Feymarch and polish it to perfection like the jewel it was, so that when Asura returned, she was in a pleasant mood. One of Asura's good moods could last for months – benefiting all of her subjects greatly.
As could one of her more…violent moods – along with the opposite effect.
It was hard having a queen that was ravishing but also housed multiple personalities.
And buried deep beneath the same Feymarch library in which Asura resided, a seventeen year-old human girl – the only one in the entirety of the Feymarch – was whipping up a storm of her own in the private bedchamber she had been granted by the King and Queen.
"Where is it?" Rydia sighed, tossing aside her bedding and pillows for the fifth time. "I swear I only just had it last night!"
Her emerald green shoulder-length hair, the fringe of which she had been trying to grow out for the past few months, was falling in her face as she searched, which just frustrated her more. She fruitlessly tucked it back behind her ears, but it sprung back forward in her eyes only moments later, still too short to stay hidden away for long. She let out a huff, giving her pillow a punch for good measure and stomping one of her thigh-high boots into the floor.
She wore a luxurious green silk tunic that reached mid-thigh, with delicate shoulder straps that showed off the youthful curve of her collar bone and toned shoulders that were attained from hours of slaying monsters with her whip that dared to threaten the security of their little sanctuary. From her arms, two billowing silk hanging sleeves draped down to her wrists and hung just above the floor, each secured with a golden-threaded ribbon. A light green and gold summer cape concealed the exposed curve of her back from the tunic, and the golden sash tied around her waist housed all of a girl's most-needed accessories for going out: Ethers, Phoenix Downs, and a whip.
I give up, Rydia thought, and reluctantly used the teleporter in her room to warp upstairs. She was greeted by King Leviathan, a sea serpent who was still infatuated with his "elderly man" human shape he had taken on, and was playing the part perfectly by lounging back in his throne with some glasses sliding down his nose, reading a book he had retrieved from the library upstairs. He closed the book shut, and stood up.
"Rydia dear, what's the matter?" Leviathan asked. "I thought you were dueling with the All-Father himself down there."
"I can't find my favorite hairpin," Rydia pouted. "You know – the hyacinth one you and the Queen gave me when I first arrived here?" She wondered to herself if this was something an eight-year old, which was her chronological age, would be whining about, or if it was still an appropriate type of fit for a seventeen year-old, which was her physical and mental age thanks to the Feymarch's bizarre time flow that had rapidly aged her upon her first visit a year ago (a year ago in human years, mind you). To keep things simple, she only referred to herself by her body and mind's age. But when she had celebrated her birthday a few months prior, she discreetly drew an "8" in the frosting of the cake that had been presented to her by her eidolon friends, celebrating the new year to come – but also quietly mourning another year of childhood lost to the aether.
She decided that either way, being a normal tween or a teenage girl was rough – she hadn't quite known what to expect when she had returned from the war – but adjusting to her new civilian life had been jarring. Going from worrying about being slaughtered by elemental archfiends to worrying about hair accessories still felt surreal.
"I'm sure it will turn up," Leviathan said. It's like living with a miniature Asura when she loses one of her baubles. "But more importantly – there was something I wanted to tell you before you departed to visit your friends on the surface."
"Huh?" Rydia blinked, the hairpin forgotten. It was actually very rare that Leviathan spoke directly to her – or to anyone, for that matter. It was law in the Feymarch that anyone who wanted to speak with the King had to speak with Queen Asura first. As a result, Leviathan had gotten quite comfortable keeping to himself and rarely started any conversations on his own.
"I had a dream last night," Leviathan frowned. "A dream where…something, was coming. It was familiar, but I couldn't understand what I was looking at. I fear that trouble stirs in the human world again..."
Rydia paused. With Leviathan, it probably wasn't so much a dream and more like a premonition – he and other eidolons were the very essence of magic themselves, and held incredible sensatory abilities. The only other race that she had encountered that even had a fracture of their psychic prowess were the Lunarians of the moon, of which her dear friend Cecil was a half-blood.
"I'll be sure to talk to Cecil about it when I reach Damcyan," Rydia said. "He would have surely sensed something like that as well."
"Very good, dear," Leviathan nodded. "Safe travels – and if that rapscallion Edge is there…"
"Hmm?" Rydia tilted her head. Leviathan turned red and shook his head, collapsing back onto his throne.
"…Just don't let him lay a hand on you! You're like my daughter, you know…so I think I have to say things like that…"
"Oh jeeze," Rydia turned red along with him, feeling like flames were crawling up the sides of her face. "It's not like that with Ed- er, I mean King Edge. He's totally ignored me since I saw him at the wedding last year. I'm quite positive that ruling Eblan has become his primary occupation in life. He may have even given up pursuing women entirely."
"Well, I…doubt that," Leviathan said, and cracked his book back open, muttering to himself, "He's still a man…"
Rydia warped to the entry-level of the library before the conversation could go any further. She had instantly made the call that seventeen was still way too young to have the talk with your elderly eidolon guardians.
The library itself was brighter and cleaner than she thought she had ever seen it in her life – all of the dust had been cleared away from the hundreds of volumes of ancient books, the polished oak checkout counters and standing desks were glistening, and the antique tiles that clicked underneath her boots were so shiny that Rydia could see her reflection in them.
As she was walking out through the front door into the heart of the village, she nearly tripped over a large, feathery posterior that was bobbing up and down and blocking the stairwell. Rydia caught herself on the railing just before she tumbled down the stairs, and a loud "Whark!" greeted her.
"Rydia!" the owner of the backside exclaimed, turning around to face her. The massive bird – an overgrown chocobo – had a rag in his beak, and he had been polishing the windows outside of the library. He dropped it on the ground, and hopped in the air, shaking his feathers and fluttering his wings a bit. "Are you OK?"
"Never been better!" Rydia lied, giving the ankle that had supported most of her weight in her stumble a discreet roll to make sure nothing was sprained. "Are you still cleaning?" Even she had to admit that seeing the fearless bird she would summon to protect her as a child washing windows was a little weird – and she had seen a lot of odd stuff in the past year while living in a town full of talking monsters.
"No point in stopping until Her Majesty comes home!" Chocobo chirped, and then paused. "Actually…there was something I was meaning to tell you."
"You too…?" Rydia trailed off. First Leviathan, now Chocobo?
"Yeah…but…I can't exactly remember what it was," Chocobo laughed, and Rydia pressed her lips together. "It happened a few months ago."
"Chocobo!" Rydia sighed, shaking her head. He had always been kind of a flake – even when she summoned him in battle. "I guess it couldn't have been that important."
"I think it was someone who was looking for you," Chocobo blinked, and shook his head. "But they probably found you by now, right? They were quick on their feet, I remember that."
"I would think so," Rydia bent down, picking up the rag. "Here…"
Chocobo plucked the rag from her hand, and waved one of his wings before turning back to the window. Rydia crossed the wooden planks that made up the village streets, and began making her way to the northernmost levels of the village that would take her to the caverns that led back into the Underworld. The Feymarch was buried deep beneath the Underworld, and the town itself was built over a pool of magma that poured down the rocky canyons that enveloped them. It was impossible for anyone in the Underworld to reach the caverns of the Feymarch without an airship, and even if they breached the island the cavern was situated upon, the cavern itself was flooded in lava that made it impossible to cross without the intervention of magic.
With the exception of Rydia and her friends, humans were forbidden to enter the Feymarch. But with all of the dangerous traps in place, it would have taken a fool to want to make the attempt anyway.
"Hi Rydia!"
"Rydia, you're coming back, right?"
"Hey Rydia, come play with us!"
As she climbed up the stairs, she was greeted by nearly every eidolon she passed. It was an understatement that Rydia was well-loved in the Feymarch, and didn't have a single critic in regard to her being human and an outsider. At first, she had been embarrassed and in disbelief at the outward , extremely forward affection that was paid to her, but slowly and surely, she got used to what it meant to live in a peaceful realm that had been never been tainted by the wars of men. She realized that in this little corner of the world where hatred had no place, there was room for nothing but love. Rydia told herself that as long as she lived in the Feymarch, never again would she have to fear waking up to her home burning down around her, or helplessly watch the senseless slaughter of innocents. If anything – or anyone – ever did threaten her new home, she knew now she was strong enough to drive it back – and become her own peacekeeper.
She did sometimes feel a little lonely – her only human friends prior to meeting Cecil had all died in the Mist catastrophe, and she couldn't exactly be her authentic self around the eidolons like she could have been with Cecil, Rosa, or even Edge. Although the eidolons were accepting of her humanity, it didn't mean they still entirely understood it. But she tried to squelch those feelings and push them deep, deep down – after all, what would life be like for her if she were back on the surface world, anyway? Cecil and Rosa were busy being the golden couple of Baron, Edge was probably at least being a half-way decent king to his own people, and the others had their own lives too – Yang was now King of Fabul, Edward King of Damcyan, and Kain had disappeared off the face of the planet. Even Dwarven Princess Luca, whom she saw the most often since she too was a denizen of the Underworld, was starting to take on more royal responsibilities and was becoming more and more interested in stealing away to the surface world to tinker with machinery. Where would Rydia have really fit in if she had remained on the surface?
That's why I'm all right if I only see the others once in a while, Rydia thought with a twinge of sadness. When we got back from the moon, everyone had someone or something to come back home to…except me. In all this time that has passed, I still can't even bring myself to go back to Mist…or at least what remains of it…
"Are you going somewhere, dear?"
Rydia was shaken out of her self-pity and looked up. Standing before her, blocking the exit to the Feymarch caverns, was Queen Asura herself, flanked by three hulking Imp bodyguards wrapped in cloaks as dark as the night. It was amusing that Asura even bothered with them – she would be the one protecting them if anyone had been foolhardy enough to challenge Asura to a fight.
"Welcome home, Your Highness," Rydia said. "Today is the celebration of Damcyan's reconstruction, so I was going to make my way to the surface world for a bit to join my friends in the festivities."
Asura tilted her head, her painted red lips pursed together slightly and her eyes clouded. She thought about the report one of her men had just given her about higher than usual activity at the Sealed Cave as they made their way back to the Feymarch, and wondered if her little Rydia or her friends knew anything about it.
"…Perhaps it would be best for you to return to that world permanently, Rydia. Perhaps that is where you truly belong…"
"Queen Asura! Please don't say that…" Rydia clenched her fist, safely hidden behind her back. Had Asura been able to sense the doubts in her heart just now? Where was this coming from? "The Feymarch is every bit as much my home as the human world!"
Asura raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows, and reluctantly nodded.
"Hearing you say that puts my heart at ease. Then go Rydia, and return to us safely."
Rydia inwardly sighed in relief. If the Queen had been serious…oh, she didn't want to think about that.
"I will! I'll be back before you know it!" Rydia threw her arms around Asura, and Asura stroked the young woman's hair with one hand, reaching down in her robes with the other to pull out an oversized ruby hyacinth hairpin and sliding it into Rydia's hair. She muttered a Float spell, and Rydia was lifted a few inches from the floor. Rydia pulled back and looked up at Asura, gasping as she touched the hairpin.
"You found it!"
"It was near the entrance of the town – did you drop it while hunting again? And the spell is so you don't get burned on the lava, my darling," Asura smiled. "I'm sure Bahamut will take you the rest of the way once you reach the underworld."
"Thank you!" Rydia cried, and reached up, checking that the pin was secure one more time before racing through the gateway of the village entrance and disappearing into the darkness of the caverns ahead, her footsteps weightless as she dashed through the air like a Sylph. Asura turned to watch her go, pressing her fingers to her lips.
I suppose even our Rydia is not impervious to the spell of denial…such is the folly of human hearts, I suppose.