"Larsa!" Penelo yelled as she threw her arms about his neck. He slowly brought his up and around her frame, smiling to the welcoming gesture. Gabranth smiled, and gazed onward.
"Good to see you too. I see the Sky Pirate's life hasn't made you any less affectionate." He laughed. Penelo stood back, holding onto his shoulders. Larsa had grown in the past two years. She then saw his friendly face turn to worry. She turned to face Gabranth; apparently he had been waiting for Larsa to say something. They seemed to exchange understanding looks, and nodded. "Penelo, if you'll excuse me momentarily, Gabranth and I have something important to discuss." The girl nodded silently, with a blank expression lying on her cheeks.
As the two began to stalk out of the office, Penelo noticed something glowing brightly upon Larsa's desk.
"What's this? You aren't playing with more Nethicite are you? Something I should hold for you again?" she tossed out teasingly. Larsa turned, and as Penelo reached for the crystal shard, he remembered what it was she was addressing.
"Penelo don't!" he called out. She jerked her hand back as he did so, turning her head quickly, and rather sheepishly, toward him. He rushed past her, snatching up the crystal in the cloth and wrapping it once more.
"I-I'm sorry, I was just…" she began, but Larsa placed a hand of understanding on her shoulder.
"It's alright, you didn't know. But this is something I shan't allow you to hold for me, for it is far too dangerous an item to be held in such fragile hands." He smiled, and walked around to the top drawer of the wooden frame, and dropped it inside. He closed it with a snap, and smile up to her eyes. "I shan't be long." He told her before rejoining Gabranth. The two of them walked side by side, whispering among themselves, leaving Penelo to herself.
So Larsa was no better. Fragile hands? She thought that surely he of all would know that Penelo was a strong girl. But it appeared she was wrong, he was no different than Balthier. She kept the Manufacted Nethicite safe from harm, and she didn't even used it for her own purposes, so why was he so dismissive about this stone?
Her eyes wandered over to the drawer where he had placed the stone. It looked of ordinary Magicite, so it couldn't be too dangerous. She slipped behind the desk, and opened the drawer. She'd show him, just like she'd show Balthier that they were wrong. She took the cloth up in her own hands, and closed the drawer. She began to feel a slight bit of guilt washing over her, until she shook it off with one simple notion; She was a Sky Pirate, and this was what they did.
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"Sir Saphryn, we've intercepted a ship claiming to work under your command! One of them says her name is Lucyle." the young soldier reported. He bowed quickly and looked up to the addressed Saphryn. He couldn't believe that he was actually standing before THE Saphryn, head Knight of the table of Azores, and personal advisor to the royal family Margrace of Rozarria. The man was a legend, taken down an entire army of two hundred men single handedly when the fort walls had failed. The young soldier could only hope to see the man in battle at least once in his lifetime, and perhaps take his place in history and become the next Black Knight.
"Well then let them through the lower dock, and make sure that they are welcomed as proper guests should be on my cruiser." Saphryn told the man. He did not turn on the bridge to face the young fellow, but continued to gaze outward toward the Rozarrian Sea of trees. After a moment, he heard the clicking of Lucyle's heels, and turned his head slightly. "Welcome aboard The Maideen, the finest heavy cruiser that Rozarria's flourishing efforts have had the pride to unveil."
"So I see. I was worried that finding you would be difficult, yet I saw this hunk of metal from a hundred miles away." The woman remarked. He looked down to her arrogant face, thin and chiseled brows were furrowed, and she gave him the impression that she was waiting impatiently for something. Her hands always hovered over her twin scimitars sheathed at her hips. He wondered if she thought that he, of all people, wished her ill will?
"So where is the man of the hour?" Saphryn asked, stepping down from the narrow walkway that thrust out toward the sky. He approached her, never looking away from her avidly moving eyes. "I assume you brought him back to me, otherwise you would not be reporting, am I correct?"
"There was an incident." She told him, looking to the ground. Saphryn's face had immediately displayed his distaste of the news. Lucyle did not lift her eyes as Saphryn glared a fiery burning anger though her. "I could not apprehend him; he made off with the girl, and I barely escaped with my life."
"Your performance over these past few months has been exceedingly questionable. You've failed at all three tasks I set before this, and yet each time you still have the audacity to show your face?" he said through his furrowed brows.
"He was better than I thought. You did not tell me he would be such a difficult man to attain!" she said, raising her voice so that it echoed off of the halls of mythril.
"Tell me, who was it that saved you from that heard of blood-thirsty Archadian barbarians when they cut your wings off with their limb-dulled blades? Was it not I?" he asked her, now only ten feet from where she stood moving closer still; she held her head down in shame. "I hear there is no greater shame for an Aegyl than to lose her wings, yet did I not take you under my wing, send you to the finest military academy in Rozarria – give you family and friend, and you cannot complete one simple task? To bring me one man!?" he said, his voice raising in anger.
"I am sorry-"
"Look at me when I speak to you!" he yelled, bringing the back of his hand across her face with swift force. Lucyle slowly lifted her head, yet looked quickly up to his face, the anger flowing from his hand to her eyes.
"Forgive me," she said through gritted teeth. Saphryn looked before the fear and hate in her eyes, and saw the water. It flooded her eyes, her lids holding the tears as a reservoir. "I will not fail you again."
"Forgive me child," he said as he took her into his arms, and held her, now realizing what he had done moments before. She slowly brought her arms up, clutching the shoulders of his armor, black as midnight. The tear fell onto his chest, and slid around the golden trim of the breastplate. She was the only daughter he had ever known, and he the only father she could remember. She couldn't bare living with the knowledge that she had failed him once, she could not fail him twice; she would not survive the shame.
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She felt like a runaway, now leaning back against a tree. The sand felt wonderfully cleansing underneath her feet, and between her toes. She wondered what everyone was thinking at this moment? She regretted taking the stone, which was a bad move on her part. After all, stealing for a living is one thing, but stealing from your own friends is another.
She laughed to herself as she pondered off everyone's thoughts, because she knew how true it all sounded. Vaan would be wondering where she had run off to in his airship, and Migelo was probably thinking she had been kidnapped again. She held the shard in her hand, watching it glint in the sunlight. How could Larsa have said such a thing to her face? At first, she wondered if he had just spoken too quickly to truly know what he had said, but then she knew that Larsa was never the type of person to speak before he thought out his words.
The small waves bouncing from the shore came back and sloshed against the bottom of the airship, as it sat in the shallow water. The sunlight was reflecting off in its glorious wings, dancing in the water, and touching the fish swimming by with a warm feeling that only it could give. After pocketing the stone, this had seemed the perfect place to run to. It was almost as if a voice had told her to come here, to the shores of the Phon Coast. Penelo had suddenly found herself so angry as of late, that she wondered if she was losing herself? Yet in the same sense, she had to wonder if she were to just subside her true feelings, would she lose out on the opportunity to gain a piece of her that she longed for?
She stood up and her anger and confusion and threw the shard out into the ocean. If Larsa ever wanted that stone back he would have to come get it himself. She knew that this was one of those actions that would be regretted later on, but she had to act out on her own instincts if she wanted to be whole again.
As the stone flipped and shined in the sun, soaring through the air, it pierced the water, sending up a small plash. However, as Penelo looked on, the splash never went down, falling back into the water. It remained a splash, as if frozen in time. Then she noticed that it was getting closer. As the oddity had finally drifted the beach, she ran to the edge of the water and knelt down to examine the strange occurrence. She poked her finger at it, finally running her finger down its side. It was ice. The splash had been instantly frozen into a mini iceberg. But that was impossible, especially in this sort of heat. Perched at the peak of the solid statue was the shimmering crystal, gazing into her mind. She felt an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach, and reached for the crystal.
Breaking it off of the tip of the ice, she held it in between her gloved hands, and took in into her fingers. Had the stone really stopped itself from becoming an item lost? Had it a will of its own? The whole thought of the idea was creepy, and she felt a terrible and odd fear in her gut. Whatever this crystal was, Larsa was right, it could have been dangerous. Yet in the same sense, perhaps it could be used for good?
She wondered if the stone would freeze anything it had come in contact with, at least anything living since clothing seemed unaffected. Yet she had the urge to touch its smooth surface, had an aching to feel it against her skin, almost as if a whisper in her head was ushering her to do so.
Penelo sat the shard in the sand, just shy of the water's touch, and slowly took off one of her gloves. She felt a knot in her chest swell as fear came over her. What if she did become a frozen statue like the water? This was a braze and foolish move, yet the whispers made her feel as though it meant her no harm. And so she reached out, and let one finger brush the face of the shard. It was chilled to the feel, and in an instant, all was a blank.
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"Do you suspect foul play?" Gabranth asked as Larsa looked through all of his drawers for the crystal shard. It was gone, and so was Penelo. But they had left her for only a short while. There were no signs or implications to suggest that Penelo had been kidnapped…again.
"No, only this note." Larsa informed the Judge Magister, holding up the small cut of parchment. In ink, quickly scrawled, it read; I'll show you all just how wrong you are. The note had been so quickly scribbled that it could have belonged to anyone. However, Larsa had a sneaking suspicion that Penelo was not only fine, but that she may have just stolen away. But she would never steel from him, would she? He reprimanded himself for such a thought; of course she wouldn't try their friendship like that.
"So what should we do, my liege?" Larsa heard his guardian ask, though barely paying attention to him.
"There's naught we can do. I don't think Penelo was taken against her will…" he said. Larsa folded his arms, and pulled his chin into his fingers thoughtfully. Gabranth had thought through the situation and what his master had just told him.
"But then that would mean-"
"We won't make any assumptions about Penelo until we know the whole truth. Anyone could have just as easily broken into here after she were gone and taken the shard themselves." Larsa said. He knew it to be a lie; it was far from easy to break into the senate, nearly impossible.
"I will proceed by heading to Rabanastre as planned, we shan't keep lady Ashe waiting." Larsa told Gabranth, nodding his head in full confidence. "And as for you, I want you to leave right away for the task I've set ahead of you. Take the fastest steed of Chocobo in the kingdom, and make haste. She cannot be too far." He said. Gabranth nodded, and immediately turned heel to take his leave, for it was imperative that the cryst shard be found.
Larsa sighed, and sat in his plush chair, resting his chin upon his elbows. He wondered, though not too much over it, if this crystal had also been created by these beings that Basch had mentioned before, the Occuria? He doubted it, otherwise they would have probably made their vengeful presence know to them. However without the Nethicite, their gate as well as harness over man, they could no longer cross over into our realm, eternally stuck in their prison of solitude.
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The breeze was cool tonight, and welcoming at that. He could just lean back into his throne upon the bough of the tree, and gaze up to the stars. The moonlight was light, and made the top of the forest rest in a haze.
"You gaze in wonder more than you used to wonder at my gaze." She spoke unto him. Balthier closed his eyes, and shook his head.
"Not now, Fran. Not tonight." He said, sighing further against the body of the tree. Suddenly feeling her presence beside him, he turned his head away and tried to put her out of mind. "Just leave me be."
"Why did you let me die?" she spoke, her Viera accents just as sultry as it had always been. Balthier thought about the words she had just spoken, and remained silent for a moment. 'The Fran I knew would have never said that,' he thought.
"And yet you make me. Has guilt muddled your memory so?" she said. He was beginning to dislike this projection of his conscience, but when hadn't he? Why did it haunt him so?
"You're only a figment of my imagination, to which I am master to., and as master of such, I command you to go away." He said.
"Then I will obey," she said, standing on the branch, and walking away from him toward the end. "All you have to do is forget my memory." She said before dropping off of the edge and into the darkness below. He hated that specter, he really did. Every time he had found a silent sanctuary, it had sought to find him. As Balthier stared down to the abyss from whence she came, he spotted something moving in the slight moonlight. As he watched this 'somebody' trudge along the forest trail, he noted the hair as platinum as the most polished of gold. It was Penelo.
Did the girl have disdain for Rabanastre these days? It seemed as though if she wasn't kidnapped, she just had to wander away. These were terrible habits for a girl as sweet as her to fall under. He let himself fall onto a few of the lower branches, and finally falling the last ten feet since there was nothing left to grab onto. He lifted himself after falling flat on his back, and dusting himself off.
"It's only been two days since I took you back to Rabanastre, and now you've already sought me out once more, in Rozarrian territory no doubt." He called out to the figure only feet away. "Me thinks you might be obsessing over me. Of course I don't blame you." He smirked. Penelo suddenly stopped, and turned to face him slowly. Her eyes were the first thing he had noticed; they glowed a light blue, and a faint haze remained around them, much like when his father had been taken over by Venat. There was no doubt that Penelo was not the one in control of her body, that much was certain.
"Ocurrian scum trying to work your way back into Ivalice? Well I have to inform you but your presence isn't welcome here." He said, pulling out his gun, and looking around the girl to see where the creature might appear.
"Do not confuse me for the Occuria, the stench of betrayal lies not with I; the servants cannot transcend unto a reality they did not create." This voice echoed. It interlaced itself with Penelo's and honed its ominous bellowing through his ears. This was no Occuria, it was something else. Something that made his very bones ache with each word.
"Well, Occuria you may not be, but that doesn't change the fact that you aren't welcome. So why don't you crawl back to whatever hole of a Giza hare you crawled out of." He warned the possessed body of his friend. This being seemed to dislike his stand on the ban. It lifted Penelo's arm, and held high a most familiar shimmering stone in its clutches. "Oh, Penelo, how did you get your hands on that?" he said as he felt a warm wind begin to pick up. All the wind seemed to blow toward the stone, or more accurately, the stone was sucking in all matter of energy about the forest. Mist began to flow from the soil, vaporizing and thickening in the air.
"Interrupt me not, foolish child, or die by the hands of your maker." It warned him. This mist, it was not suffocating as the Nethicite's grasp, but it felt pure. It welcomed him, and for a moment it seemed to be seductively intoxicating. Balthier suddenly heard the sound of pelting feet running toward him, a cry from afar. The cry of someone dying, he had heard this before. Snapping out of the pale blue effervescence, he looked around and saw no one. Of course not, he knew that scream, and should have know better, it was the mist's deceit. He quickly lifted the gun in his right hand, took aim and shot at the crystal shard. The bullet ricocheted off of the stone's face, still in one piece, but that was just enough to knock it out of Penelo's hand.
"Insolent Hume!" the voice spat, consuming Penelo's body in pure light. Balthier felt the heat of the power, the force was too much to contain and so it unleashed itself in every direction. Balthier felt himself faying, drifting backwards, and obviously far from where he was standing. After falling to the ground harshly, and rolling over just quickly enough to dodge the heavy trunk of a splintered tree, he lifted his head. In the distance, only Penelo stood. The thick forest of abundant trees around them was gone, now a radius of charred dirt. And as Balthier saw the glow in her eyes leave her head, she collapsed to the ground, and soon he was no better, face falling unconsciously to the ground.
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