Scene III - Baron. The Sanctum of Warfare.
"We have no time to think, we must act now!"
The room was filled with bustling voices, loud whispers, and an overtone of uncomfortable shuffling. Ten men sat around a long table within the compact chamber. With walls several feet thick and only one doorway, it was a wonder that many did not feel claustrophobic in its confines. But such security and secrecy was needed when it came to war. The fact that the chamber was buried beneath the castle only increased its usefulness as a safe haven.
Beigan, captain of the Royal Guard, was the closest to the King at the table, and was clearly upset by the delay that the meeting was already suffering. With a fist propping him up he leaned heavy on the stone table and glared fiercely at the other officers that were here to discuss the present situation. With a mere gesture of His Majesty's hand, however, Beigan's incensed nature was quickly cooled. He sat back down with a huff.
"Captain Beigan we have more than enough time to wait for our remaining official," Odin said calmly. "Our scouts are still trickling in from the northern lands to bring us news of Fabul's actions. We have yet to hear the full story."
"But, my Lord," Beigan said in hushed tones. "We already know where they are headed, we need only act."
"Not without the commander's input," Odin replied quietly, but forcefully. "I will not send Cecil blindly into battle without knowing his concerns."
The room collapsed into a deathly silence for a split second as the lone door crept open. The heavy oak slab, nearly a tree in itself, cruised with a strange quietness, only the faint rush of air that it displaced as it filled the sealed chamber. Eager eyes stared at the figures that were waiting behind it.
"Your Majesty," the guard said as he led his two guests into the vault. "Sir Cecil and Lord Cid have arrived."
"Lord Cid?" Beigan begged for an explanation.
"Ah, good to see you old friend," the King said with a smile, a guiding hand wafting them to the empty seats at the other end of the table. "I'm surprised to see you up this late without a wrench in your hand, and an airship within your reach."
"I'll be there shortly I have a feeling," Cid said with an exasperated sigh, slumping heavily into his chair. "I hear your men will need to leave by morning. When exactly were you planning to inform me of this?"
There was a moment of awkward silence as all eyes shifted from Cid to the King, even Cecil, not yet in his seat, stood still for a moment if just to see the reaction on His Majesty's face. Cecil lowered himself ever so quietly into his chair for fear that the slightest noise would cause something, or somebody, to snap. To his dismay his chair squealed unusually raucous due to the heavy silence as it scraped across the stone floor. With that, he just gave up and sat down.
"My dear friend," the King shattered the muteness that had befallen the group, but with an unexpected softness. "The haste with which the news of Fabul's sudden approach on Toroia has left us with little choice but to make haste with our own actions. I apologize that I could not let you know sooner, but I myself did not know of this until this very night. I also apologize that you have to be here at this time of night."
"Be thankful, Your Majesty," Cid said with generous disdain. "For if I had not been so rudely awakened tonight and brought here by our new commander, then he and the rest of you would be out of luck."
"How do you mean?" the King asked, eyebrow quirked with interest.
"Well, for starters, the flagship is not yet operational," Cid said with a worn impatience. "Several other vessels have yet to be fully inspected and may well fall apart upon liftoff if something is left unchecked. The point is they're not ready, Your Highness."
"Cid, they were all scheduled to be fully operational by now," the King said with a sudden frantic concern. "Have you truly fallen that much behind?"
Cid did not have much to say to that, and his weary face looked even more dreadful and exhausted than before. He didn't like to admit it, but his age was finally beginning to catch up with him. All-nighters were no longer so easy to pull off.
"I suppose I'm not as expeditious as I was in my younger years," Cid replied with a frustrated sigh. "Time is no longer as kind to me as it once was."
"I understand, Cid," the King said kindly, almost gently guiding him into what he was about to say next. "But you understand the severity of our current situation, yes?"
"I do." Cid replied.
"Then can you have our airships ready for departure by morning?"
The room was once again silent, and all eyes shifted from King Odin to the other end of the table, where the bushy-bearded engineer sat with a look of contemplation drawn across what could be seen of his face through the hair. His brow furrowed as his eyes scanned the table, as though looking at imaginary blueprints that he could bring up from memory. He was assessing his situation, and within moments he had his answer. The room waited with starving anticipation, for the future of the war in question lay in his hands.
"They will be prepared for takeoff no later than the ninth hour this morning," Cid said, a hint of confidence peeking through his words. There was a grin beginning to show itself through his beard, for the challenge had given him a sudden burst of invigoration. The room seemed to exhale a sigh of relief as the King actually began to smile as well.
"Very good," Odin said. "So it is settled. We will depart on the ninth hour this morning. Now, since our commander has yet to understand exactly why we are here we shall commence the official briefing. Beigan you may proceed."
"My liege," Beigan said with a brief bow as he rose from his seat. He pushed his chair back, sending a quick scratch of wood on the floor. Attention was his. "We have received word from several of our messengers scouting in the northeast that Fabul has in fact amassed a fleet, perhaps as many as two hundred sails."
The whispers began to erupt between the officials, nervous glances darting between each other. Cecil was incredibly focused, intent on the words he was receiving, and he showed no sign of worry over the number of vessels he just heard. Calm and collected, as a dark knight should be.
"The reports are varied and an exact number is not yet known," Beigan continued, raising his voice above the others. "But there are no fewer than one hundred and twenty ships that have left the ports of Fabul."
The room seemed ultimately restless, and Beigan was beginning to lose his grip on their concentration. Battle plans seemed to be spewing from every official's mouth at once, and not all were aimed at Beigan. It seemed as though all order was lost.
"Silence!" the King's voice reverberated throughout the small room. The following stillness was deafening. Odin glared at each of the officials lining the stone table, his face echoing the violence in his voice. "I will not have such chaos in this time of urgency. You all will have your say, but time is of the essence, and if you choose not to listen then you are free to leave. Your position will be filled by morning."
Naturally, there were no objections. Beigan continued.
"Their heading, we can only assume, is east towards Tor--"
"Your Majesty! I have word from the North!" a muffled cry managed its way through the dense door, along with the desperate pounding of a fist that slightly rattled the hinges. Beigan was at the door almost as fast as the men had turned their heads towards the noise that beckoned them. As Beigan opened the door, the messenger eagerly squeezed through the crack as soon as it was wide enough. The look in his eyes was maniacal, which meant the news was something they did not want to hear. "They sail west, My Lord. They're sweeping around Mount Hobs and aim for Damcyan. They number one hundred and eighty sails."
"Damcyan?" the King stood at the abrupt change of pace that this news had brought upon them. The room itself seemed a mass of confusion and frustration. This new heading simply did not make sense. "That fool of a King wouldn't dare attack his most valuable ally."
"They are bearing down on them as we speak, My Lord," the messenger said, a definite gloom in his tone. "Their sails are swift, and this report was seen this past morning."
"Then it is too late," King Odin nearly collapsed into his throne at the head of the table. The room erupted with banter and cries of vengeance and strategies for taking over Damcyan in the name of Baron. Cecil said something but it was engulfed in the throe of words that ensued over the table. Beigan noticed that Cecil was attempting to resolve the matter, and after letting the messenger out he quickly slammed the door shut, causing the entire room to shudder.
"Quiet! All of you!" Beigan shouted. The voices were lowered to mere whispers as the Captain of the Royal Guard made his way back to his seat. Before sitting he extended his arm across the table towards Cecil, who seemed startled that Beigan had pointed him out. "Cecil, I personally cannot excuse your tardiness to this meeting, but His Majesty has great faith in you, and therefore so do I. You seem to have a resolution at the tip of your tongue, and I am curious to hear what someone with a little composure has to say. Please share your knowledge."
As Beigan sat down, Cecil gripped the armrests of his chair and slowly lifted himself up on his feet. He had never been in this position before. Never before had he ever thought he would be standing in the Sanctum of Warfare, speaking before Baron's highest military and political officials. As intimidating as it was, there was a rush of exhilaration behind it, and he felt the answers building themselves quickly and effectively in his mind as he spoke.
"They do not intend to attack Damcyan," Cecil began. He didn't even have time to say another word before an errant comment escaped from one of the politicians.
"Are you daft? Did you not just hear the messenger?"
"I am well aware of what the messenger has said," Cecil replied calmly, assuring that he was not befallen of ignorance, or arrogance for that matter. "But have you all forgotten that Damcyan is Fabul's greatest ally? They've become nearly dependent on each other as far as their imports and exports. They could be cut off from the rest of the world and still be self-sustaining. But take one from the other, or let one overtake the other even, and they are both lost."
To Cecil's surprise the entire room was listening intently. All eyes were on him, even those of King Odin, who was grinning excitedly, as though he had expected this of Cecil all along. It gave Cecil a bit of pride to let his studies of foreign diplomacy and politics shine through. But what really had Cecil excited was what he would say next, for he knew exactly what Fabul was going to do.
"They will attack Toroia from the east, where they least suspect it," Cecil explained. "Attacking from the west is far too risky. With the international trade agreement both countries have with the town of Mithril they could upset their import of weapons and armor that Mithril provides. Plus Toroia will have their trade routes heavily guarded already and their western ports will not be easy to break through."
"But the Gulf of Toroia is a bottleneck. It provides too great of a defense for an effective attack from the east," another man spoke up, one of Beigan's higher military officers.
"That is true, but if there is one thing that the history of warfare has shown, it is that sometimes attacking one's strengths can prove them to be weaknesses." Cecil controlled his argument well, and many of the men at the table were noticeably impressed. "For the exact reason you just proposed, Toroia will not guard their seas in the Gulf. Their fleets will be most heavily concentrated on the west coast, where they will be unable to respond in time when Fabul sweeps in from the east. And are we also forgetting that their city lies on the eastern bank of the great river? It only makes perfect sense to sneak in from the east. And that is why we must act quickly and decisively. If Fabul is already in Damcyan then they will be upon Toroia by tomorrow night. We cannot allow this to happen. Toroia, the land and the influence it possesses, are vital to the balance of power in this world. As peacekeepers, and as moral beings, we must not allow that balance to be altered."
There was a brief pause after Cecil finished, and he didn't breathe for several long seconds.
"Here, Here!" bellowed one of the men as he slapped his hand on the table, a wide smile on his face as the room suddenly filled with warm laughter and cheer. Cecil remembered to breathe again as a few officers came up to shake his hand. The King still watched like the respectful father, and as Cecil's eyes fell on him Odin gave a short nod of approval. He had never felt as important as he did at that moment. He had just become a respected member of the warfare council, something he had expected to take years to accomplish. But the feeling had to quickly subside, for a strategy had to be built. Cecil was simply one of them, no more no less, and that was how he had to think. They would all have to work as one mind to make this plan work.
...Meanwhile...
The hurried footsteps pattered across the stone square, a shadow that scampered through a white curtain of fog. They were erratic and changed directions frequently, as though perhaps someone were chasing a loosed animal. Perhaps that was not so far off.
Dimitri scanned the square, overwrought with what was weighing on his mind, with what he feared Kain was planning to do. The fog gave no help to his cause, and Dimitri began to wonder if it was all for naught. Kain was nowhere to be seen. But then there was a sound. Brief but sharp. A sound of something metallic striking the stone tile that created the town square. It came from directly ahead of him, and he immediately resumed his search.
He only needed a few steps before he could make out an outline of a figure kneeling, as though praying in the middle of the square. But as he got closer, and shadows defined the man's arms outstretched towards the ground, Dimitri saw he had dropped something.
"Kain?" Dimitri called with a strain of uncertainty. The man looked up, still kneeling, and as Dimitri took a few cautious steps closer he could see those glaring eyes that he knew too well. Kain stood up, hand gripping the object he had dropped tightly...his dagger. Dimitri instantly stopped upon recognizing the dagger, the glint of moonlight it was able to reflect through the midnight haze.
"What is it, Dimitri?" Kain said with an uncomfortable level of disdain. Dimitri held back the urge to say never mind and go home. He stared right back at Kain with all the confidence he could muster.
"What are your intentions?" Dimitri said.
"To take back what is rightfully mine."
"At what price, Kain?" Dimitri began to dig into the cracks of Kain's guarded hatred for the dark knight. "Would you kill for it?"
"If quietus is necessary then it is beyond me to control it."
"Your enmity surely does not run so deep?"
"You have no idea how deep it runs!" Kain exploded, stepping quickly to confront Dimitri, their faces mere inches away from each other. Dimitri could feel the hot breath slap his cheeks as Kain spoke. "It is a venom that fills my veins, pumps through my heart, gives my body life to its purpose. There is no greater influence that keeps me standing here now."
Dimitri feared the dagger would soon pierce his stomach, but it did not. Instead Kain retreated, stepping back as though to compose himself. But Kain's eyes never stopped burning with the heat of his passionate malice. Not until he noticed Dimitri was eyeing the dagger in his hand. Kain looked down at it and immediately softened his eyes. When he returned his glance to Dimitri they seemed deeply morose.
"Dimitri, do you trust me?" Kain asked solemnly. "Do you wish to help me?"
"I do, but--"
"Then take this dagger and end my wretched affliction!" Kain offered the handle of the dagger to Dimitri, who could only help but stare in disbelief. "I fear it is the only way I can ever truly rest."
"I--" Dimitri was speechless as he stared at the dagger offered to him, its steely point aimed straight for Kain's heart. "I can't."
"Please," Kain whispered quickly, as though the word was painful to speak. Dimitri hesitated for a moment, but his hand did reach out, and his fingers did grip the handle of the dagger, gently lifting it from Kain's hand. "Do it quickly."
"It would be the only way," Dimitri agreed. He slid his fingers along the blade of the knife, felt the prick of the tip draw a drop of blood from his skin. "If this is truly what you wish then so be it. I fear I have underestimated the consequence of today's affairs."
"It is Cecil you underestimate," Kain broke in, a shuddering despondency in his voice. "You should know, before I die, that it was Cecil who asked the King to defer against your acceptance for the trials as a dark knight."
"What?!" Dimitri stopped cold, and his eyes searched Kain's eyes for every bit of truth he could find in those words. Dimitri pointed the dagger straight for Kain's throat, close enough that if Kain took a step forward it would be his last. "Your tongue betrays you."
"My life is over, Dimitri, whether I am dead or alive," Kain professed. "What good am I to lie? Death only brings truth, and I stand before it. Call me a liar, for it makes no difference. It is one of many secrets I never wished to take to my grave, but here my grave waits for me, and my confession goes to you. Let me die with at least that bit of peace for my restless soul."
For a long moment the dagger remained rigid at Kain's throat, and their eyes measured the truth somehow. The fog was beginning to thin out and the moonlight was more radiant against their faces. Kain began to worry that Dimitri would actually follow through and send him to an early grave, but then he saw something in the new light. A fire was brimming behind those eyes. Kain hoped that fire burned for the right cause.
"Where shall we meet in the morning," Dimitri finally broke the silence, the dagger not moving an inch. Kain swallowed against a dry throat.
"At the castle gates, on the eighth hour," Kain replied. Dimitri then quickly drew back, flipping the dagger in his hand and offering it to Kain. Kain grasped the weapon, quite thankful it was not lodged in his neck.
"I've always wanted to see Toroia," Dimitri said with a smile, dark against the night. "I will sleep to dream of it tonight."
"As will I," Kain said. "Sleep we must, dear friend. The days ahead will not be soon forgotten."
"Farewell," Dimitri said as he turned and headed back towards the castle. Kain watched him until he could see him no more, and every second his smile grew more wicked, more disturbingly satisfied. He had lured this man to his will, and he now had a marionette with which to dangle at a safe distance from danger.
"I have it," Kain whispered into the midnight air, no one to hear but the statue standing attentively within the square. "It is engendered--Hell and night will bring this purpose to the world's light, and all will know of Cecil as but a scar on Baron's face."
...Hours later, in the Sanctum of Warfare...
"May you all rest well, for our future will rest in your hands shortly, and until Toroia's sovereignty is once again safe," the King spoke as the meeting came to a quick and painless end. All had gone well, and a successful plan had been organized. All that was left was to execute it. The King stood, and as he did, the rest of the table stood in unison. "You are free to go."
The table quickly became empty as the mighty door was opened, and men trickled out, still discussing the strategy they had formulated. Cecil stood with Cid for a moment within the chamber, reflecting on all that had passed within these walls on this night. There was a burning question that Cecil had to ask the engineer, for it was something that had become quite personal to the both of them.
"Cid, are you sure you're okay with Rosa going to Toroia?" Cecil asked sincerely. "I don't want you to worry with her being in danger, and I understand if you would rather her stay."
"No, Cecil. She should go," Cid admitted. "She'd rather be with you, and she'd probably kill me if she knew that I was keeping her from you."
"You have my word that I will never let harm come to her," Cecil said. "I would give my life to protect her."
"I know. She's in better hands with you than she is with me," Cid said with a sigh, yet letting a smile break through. "Your faith in her is tremendous, and I hope it serves you well. As long as you have eyes to see you better keep them on her, you hear? But also be careful where you place your trust. She deceived her father, and she may very well deceive again."
Cid and Cecil were locked in a strange tangle of emotional stares for a moment. Those last words Cid spoke struck him as so ominous, and the thought had never even crossed his mind that Rosa would ever deceive him.
"Cid, might I have a word with you?" the King motioned him over to the head of the table. Cid patted the dark knight on the shoulder, but the friendly gesture seemed diluted, misleading, and Cecil watched the portly figure shuffle up to the King, as though life would go on without trust.
Cecil didn't care to meander much longer, and he began to find the chamber stuffy and uncomfortable. He walked through the thick doorway and immediately inhaled the fresher air within the castle as he ascended the secret staircase that rested in a corner of the throne room. After a laborious climb he realized just how exhausted he was, and he craved a warm bed to sleep in. The throne room was dimly lit, with only a few candles keeping it from total darkness. Cecil quickly made his way to the antechamber, where the light was much brighter, and gave him a feeling of comfort.
"Cecil!"
The voice seemed to come from out of thin air, but Cecil realized that she was standing right there in front of him, and he hadn't even noticed.
"Rosa, what are you doing here?" Cecil asked, wrapping his arm around her and guiding her out of the antechamber where the King would have less of a chance to see them share a kiss. After a long embrace they parted, yet still held each other's hands as they stared into the depths of their eyes.
"I was startled when a guard came to your room looking for you," Rosa explained. "I had to hide before he unlocked your door, and luckily he didn't search the balcony. I don't know what I would've done had he found me."
"Let's just be glad that he didn't find you," Cecil said with a smile. His eyes, as tired as they were, still shimmered with love every time he saw her. He wasn't sure what it was that made that happen, but he enjoyed every second of it. "I don't know why I feel this way, but I love you more than anything in the world, Rosa."
"I feel the same way," she replied with her beautiful smile, and Cecil couldn't hold it in any longer.
"I want to get married tomorrow," Cecil announced.
"Tomorrow?" Rosa said, a bit shocked.
"We're going to Toroia in a few hours, and I can't think of a better place to vow my love for you," Cecil said, his eyes beaming with joy. "You always say it's your favorite place in the world, and we might not get another chance to be there together for a while."
"I--" Rosa had waited for these words since their engagement, and she had longed to say them to the man she loved, but they didn't come to her in time, for Cid was walking through the antechamber doors at that very moment. "Oh God, it's my father, I have to go."
"No, wait!" Cecil called after her but she hurried down the main hall and out of sight before Cecil could even think to give chase. It left him a bit disconcerted, but he couldn't really blame her, for she still believed that their relationship was a secret well kept from Cid. Cecil turned to see the engineer give him a glance, a strained look of acceptance and affirmation. He would live with the fact that he had been a terrible father, and the secret he would keep for her would be his retribution. Cecil watched him as he wandered down a hallway towards the airship docks, a high window spilling the twilight onto the walls, signaling dawn's arrival. The engineer would be spending the rest of the morning there.
...be careful where you place your trust. She deceived her father, and she may very well deceive again.
The words caught Cecil by surprise again as they reemerged from his recent memory. He stood silent and still for an endless moment. Then he turned to glance down the main hall, where Rosa had run from her father as well as the greatest confession of his love for her since their engagement. He didn't notice it right away, but his heart was beating unnaturally fast, and when he did finally feel it, it felt heavy in his chest.