Summary: Set two years after Hide and Seek. The call to free her sister country has finally arrived, but Anastacia no longer wants to hear it. She is about to realize, however, that when it comes to sky piracy, the dead can be very convincing. BaschxOC

Update! Although this is an old update that I just tweaked. I'll tell you when the next actual chapter is coming (next chapter meaning the chapter I was about to post before I decided to revise the story a bit). Still, enjoy! R&R please! (Also, reviews are replied to after every chapter.)


Chapter 3

Anya hurriedly pressed the furnished doors to Bhujerba's new tavern open. It was The Cloudborne's Grand Opening! In retrospect, it was nothing compared to her sixteenth birthday part–no, wait. There was nothing to look back upon. There was nothing to look back upon. Her birthday party was a meal with a kind Moogle on the streets of Balfonheim, where she lived with busy distant relatives. Anya rubbed her hands on her face. In any case, Balthier had told her to meet him and Fran here. The Cloudborne was E-shaped, save the line in the center that, in the tavern's structure, protruded from its 'back'. Two doors guarded the tavern at each side of the protuberance. Anya had entered through the right.

She soon found out that maybe it didn't matter, as the two doors led to the same tavern; there were no divisions despite her expectations. Now it truly seemed like a Grand Opening. No wonder the streets of Bhujerba had been empty! Humes, Bangaa, Seeq, Moogles, Parijanah, and Sainikah crowded the main bar, gleefully shouting for food and drink for their friends and companions. Those who preferred to watch this amusing show of camaraderie occupied the tables and chairs scattered around the tavern and took the time to admire the cool tones of green and yellow that painted its walls.

They were not here. Had they left her? It had only been six months since she joined them, but Anya believed they had grown close enough not to leave each other...or her, in this case.

"Lost, little girl?" asked a guttural voice from behind her.

The voice belonged to a Bangaa carrying a lance with a circular chainsaw at its tip over his shoulder. A mixture of white, pigment green and light indigo, he wore gauntlets and armor for his upper torso that consisted mostly of belts and little padding; baggy, dark salmon pants covered his lower half. Standing over her with his two hand-like feet, the Bangaa bared his teeth at her, possibly in an attempt to give her a nice smile.

"No, sir," she replied. Oops! Balthier had told her many times to stop saying sir. "I'm waiting for my Amba and my Tatah."

"Is that what you call him? Father?" The Bangaa gave a terrifying laugh. "Use that term sparingly, child, or your precious Balthier will disclaim you just as easily as he has evaded me! I search for him as well, and finally he told me to...meet him here. Why don't you accompany me?"

"No thank you." Anya was careless and shot him a suspicious look. "Tat– Balthier never said anything about meeting any Bangaa today..."

The Bangaa's already unusually fake features suddenly became terribly distorted as she refused him. "You'll come with me, brat," he demanded, raising his lance and activating the chainsaw on it. "Or you'll not see that fool again!"

Anya stared at the Bangaa, frozen in fear. She turned her head and closed her eyes, anticipating the pain she knew was coming.

Perhaps she should have chosen the left door.

"Anastacia, dear?"

Anastacia blinked many times before she could remember where she was: one of the much smaller dining rooms in the Marquis' estate. Unlike the main dining hall, this place was too small for musicians to join them, and no helpers entered while they ate. 'They' consisted of father, Uncle-King Raminas, Sir, Captain, Uncle Halim, Ashelia, Rasler, and herself.

Father had called her.

"Y-yes, papa?"

"Your father was simply worried that he was boring you out of your mind, little one," Uncle-King Raminas chuckled, earning amused laughs from the rest of the adults at the table.

Uncle-King Raminas, still with a full head of dark blond locks, and father, with the sandy brown hair he had passed down to his two children, sat at the opposite heads of the silk-covered dining table. Anastacia sat to her father's right or was adjacent to him; Rasler was beside her, kicking Ashelia who was forced to stay across him (she kicked back with more force, so they were currently engaged in a foot-fight; the adults noticed but thought they were being playful and let it pass). To Rasler's own right was an again amused Marquis Ondore. Beside or adjacent to the latter was King Raminas, and across Uncle Halim sat what Anastacia knew was a Captain of the Dalmascan Army. She called him – the raven, curly yet stuck up-haired (his hair really did go up somehow!) man who came with Sir – Captain because she could never remember his name.

Ashelia was at the Captain's right, too (Anastacia's left), and adjacent to father, across her and beside Ashelia, sat Sir. She knew his name! Really, she did, but she called him Sir so often (and never once did he complain or correct her), so that must have been the reason why Anastacia could not remember it. His face was so familiar, but today it seemed so much younger, and she didn't know why. It was odd seeing him in casual clothing, as she had only ever seen him in armor before and the only part of his body that she saw was his head. On it was his naturally slicked back, golden blond hair which Anastacia so admired. She wagered that if Rasler had the same hair, Ashelia wouldn't be so opposed to marrying him. Not that Anastacia wanted them to marry, either...besides, father disliked wagering as it was a waste of valuable, valuable money. He said one could run around the entire capital and still not find a single Gil to his name.

For some reason, Anastacia didn't need to look around to know that on the walls behind them, there hung Galbana lily-shaped, Fira-lit lamps that illuminated the room. Anastacia fiddled around with her knife and her fork before she realized that her hands were small. They belonged to a six year-old child's, she knew, but now that she had noticed it, they felt natural and contented her somewhat.

Captain, Uncle-King Raminas, and Uncle Halim continued to talk about whatever it was they were talking about before while Rasler and Ashelia continued to kick each other from below the table.

"...As I was saying," said father after addressing Sir, unknowingly drawing Anastacia's attention, "A word of advice: Life is a game. All you need to do is learn how to play it."

A troubled look replaced Sir's usually peaceful expression. "With all due respect, Your Royal Majesty, that seems an odd philosophy for a King."

"Is it not? But it's the only way to go by, what with all these deaths and terrible happenings in life..." Father said this with a very sad look on his face. Anastacia knew he spoke of mother, and suddenly she felt guilty. Father glanced up from his reverie and smiled, shaking his head. She thought he was probably trying to let go of the memory of mother. "But I digress, and offer a sort of follow-up for that statement," he sent out a melancholic laugh, but only at the back of her mind did Anastacia know this. "If life does not offer you a game worth playing, sir, then... invent a new one. It's the only way to keep one's sanity..."

Anastacia watched the Sir nod obediently. "An interesting belief, Your Majesty. But perhaps you should mind not to let your children hear such words at a young age?" His eyes landed on Anastacia, who looked away in embarrassment.

Father laughed in amusement now. "Ah, yes, perhaps you're right. Anastacia..."

"Papa...?" she glanced up to her father again.

"Isn't it about time you prepared for your brother's wedding?"

"Hmm?" Anastacia gave her father an odd look. Ashe and Rasler were still kicking each other, so how were they to wed? Anastacia shuddered. Or even...kiss? No one else seemed to notice this error in continuity and went on with their activities. Sir simply watched Uncle-King Raminas for his response, but Nabradia's princess insisted. "Papa, what do you-"

"That is right!" Uncle-King Raminas sagely nodded his head. "You should go, Anastacia, or you're going to be late. You don't wish to be late for your own brother's marriage ceremony, do you?"

"Well, no- but-" Anastacia felt a sudden sense of anxiety and an irrational fear that the wedding would start without her. Pushing herself and her chair away from the table, she hopped off her seat and turned towards the door.

Goodbye...

A wave of realization came over the princess. She had to leave for the wedding, but this would be the last time. The last time she could...

Biting her lip slowly and turning around, she ran to her father and tackled him into a crushing embrace.

"I love you, papa..." she cried, tears ungracefully streaming down her face. Anastacia didn't know how or why, but she knew she would not see him again after this. Although she knew it was futile, she begged, "Please don't leave me."

Her father gladly returned her embrace, but obviously did not understand her sadness. "I shan't ever leave you, little one. I love you," he whispered, leaving a fatherly kiss on her forehead before releasing her. She knew he was not aware of how much he would be proven wrong, so Anastacia allowed him to gently shove her towards the door behind Uncle-King Raminas. "Now, go. Ashelia will be distressed without you."

"I know." Anastacia nodded. Closig her eyes so she would never look back, she ran forward. The door nearly broke open as she entered andopened her eyes, trying not to cry anymore. She gasped, astonished at the fact that she had arrived at the large doors of Rabanastre's great Cathedral so immediately.

Easily getting used to the fact that the door she came from had disappeared, Anastacia flung her head around in desperation and tried to make sure that her heart had not leapt out of her chest just yet. Was she late? She glanced down to her dress, ignoring her sudden growth spurt into a sixteen year old. Her short turquoise dress was fine, and still fit to dance with, but...she was barefooted!

And there was the parade, coming closer to the Cathedral by the second! Anastacia panicked and sped into the Cathedral, planning to ask someone– anyone– if they had extra footwear. Everyone was to enter after Rasler was at the altar, so there was no one who possibly had extra shoes in sight...except the preacher!

Would he have shoes? No matter, she had to at least try, else she would be the laughing-stock of the ceremony! Sprinting across the marble aisle, Anast-

"Oh!" she gasped, bouncing off the preacher whom she had bumped into in all her haste. "I'm so sorry, sir, I was just-"

The preacher turned around and gave her an angry glare. Her eyes widened.

"B-B-Balthier?"

"What did we say about the past?" he slowly asked her, still dressed in his preacher garb. It was very odd, but Anya didn't think that at the moment.

"It is..." Anya shook her head violently. "It is not..."

"It is meant to be forgotten!" Balthier yelled, slamming his fist against the altar. Exasperatedly, he ran his fingers through his hair. That had never happened before. He had never yelled at her before. Scolded, but he had never completely lost his composure... "Or have you yourself forgotten what happened the last time you tried to cling to it?"

Turning around, Anya saw Fran's unmoving body on the aisle before her. The Viera carried fourteen stab wounds, most of them on her knees, legs, and arms. Tears rushed out of Anya's eyes once more as she watched thick red blood seep from Fran's wounds.

"Mama!" Anya knelt beside her and tried to shake her awake. "Mama, don't go! I'm sorry, I won't do it again!" she sobbed, "I promise I won't ever, ever leave you again..."

"Anya?"

The sharp nails softly pressing against her skin bothered Anya and prompted her to open her eyes. Tears blurred her vision and she had much trouble breathing.

"A nightmare?" asked Fran, dusting the girl's hair as she helped her sit up on the filthy ground of their dungeon cell. The Viera subtly felt Anya's wet back; indeed, she had awoken in cold sweat, but Fran said nothing and waited for her reply.

"Yes," Anya wiped her brow and stood up, still leaning on Fran. By her feet lay an unconscious Vaan, a red bump evident on the back of his head, and the rotting corpse of an unknown Bangaa beside him. Sitting cross-legged on a ledge ahead of her with a distant expression on his face, Balthier rested his right elbow on his knee and his chin on his right hand.

Cobwebs were the main decoration for their cell, and, Anya guessed, for the entire dungeon. Hearing tiny grains of debris falling from the ceiling to the objects below (one of them her head), she glanced up, only to shield her eyes immediately. The center of the ceiling had openings, but they were all just small windows and they were too high and too small for anyone to reach or fit into. She stopped coughing only once the dust from the debris cleared and she realized that their 'cell' wasn't so much a cell as it was an open room leading to the main dungeon containing the rest of the prisoners.

Walking towards their so-called cell's entrance, Anya looked to Fran and Balthier. "Nalbina?" she asked. "The layout is similar to its Fortress' bottom level..."

"Interesting that you would know such a thing," replied Balthier, turning to see her finally awake, "But yes, it is. Where else would they have thrown us?"

"I'm not sure," Anya answered, pretending to shrug innocently as she stared at her right wrist. No doubt the shackles that previously bound her punctured the blisters, but it seemed someone had disinfected her wrist and lightly bandaged it. Silently, she thanked Fran. "That Raksas still has my mind befuddled. Deliberately missed giving me a third degree burn by a whisker, I'd say, to cause me more suffering. Do you think it's possible for such a creature to think like that? How long have we been here? What of our escape route?"

"I care not, I know not, and nothing yet." Balthier groaned. "Too many questions, why don't you sit down?"

Fran watched Anya narrow her eyes at Balthier in annoyance before she herself spoke again. "I was about to search for an escape route. Do any of you wish to come?"

Balthier shook his head and sighed as if making the decision to stay was the hardest in Ivalice. "Why don't you accompany Fran, Anya? I'll stay here with Vaan and make sure he doesn't have a heart attack when he wakes up. He is new to this, after all."

Fran resisted the growing urge to roll her eyes. The only thing that amazed her now was the fact that Balthier actually wasn't complaining about how filthy the dungeon was. Not that he was what Anya called a whiner, but... oh, all right, he griped. Quite a lot. But she knew it was only because it was part of his charm...or whatever he wanted to call it. "Anya?"

"I'll go with you," she agreed to his wishes easily today. Her right wrist still stung, but busying herself with a goal was better than rotting away in a dungeon cell. "Oh, where did Ash-mmmm...I mean, where did that Amalia girl go?"

"Leaders of the insurgence get special treatment, I suppose," Balthier muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as he closed his eyes. "Does it really matter to you? Were you playing a game with her?"

"I wasn't." Anya glared at the cobwebs that adorned the room. "So no, I suppose it doesn't."

"Then we leave." Hostility, hostility, such hostility. The whole business of it sickened Fran. They were together because no such thing was supposed to exist among them, were they not? Friendly jest, yes, but not hostility. She rested her eyes for a moment. Hmm, perhaps the dungeon was their cause of frustration. It wasn't the first time they had been arrested, but it was the first time they were in a prison for more than three hours. By this time, she would have secured the escape route and Anya and Balthier would have looted the place and distracted their captors.

Their captors. She and Balthier had been blindfolded when they were forced into the dungeons (Anya and Vaan were unconscious), and this area of the fortress was surely sealed off, but it was only logical for an entrance and exit used by the Empire to exist. Whether it be by force or magicks, she would be able to find a way to leave such dreadful a place. Hopefully.

Anya wrapped her arms around Fran's right as they walked out of their cell. It was normal when she, Balthier, and Fran herself were alone, but here? The child held her with much more care and fear than usual. It reminded her of when Mrj-

"Amba, look, a well!" Anya exclaimed, letting go of Fran's arm and running towards her new distraction. The square-shaped well Anya spoke of was at the center of that area in the prison. They had followed a small flight of stairs once out of the room to reach it, though Fran had noticed that there was another open path east of the stairs.

Anya leaned over the grimy well curiously, only to learn that it was completely empty. It was just a hole. A big, deep square hole that continued to give false hope to the temporary residents of the dungeons. Temporary because it was clear that they would die soon. Across her, a malnourished Bangaa flicked its tongue at the well thirstily. "W-water..."

Fran shook her head as Anya's loud announcement drew the attention of a number of prisoners in the area. They were few, but enough to cause her to increase her already heightened wariness. She and Anya were the only female prisoners here, she realized, and these men had spent a moon too many without a woman. They seemed to be unaware of each other as they each advanced at their own pace.

"Hello, little miss," said a Hume man's voice behind Fran. "Need some help?"

"No thank you," Anya replied, taking a few steps back from the prisoner that had approached her. He must have been one of the older prisoners, for he wore ragged clothing and dirt and sand seemed affixed to his dry skin. "Unless you know a way out of here."

"I don't know the way out," said the man, gripping Anya's right wrist and causing her to hiss painfully, "But if you come with me, I'll bring you to a paradise you'll never want to go from."

"I said no thank you." The prisoner's grip on her was too strong, but... "And you've nothing for me to take; with what would you bring me to paradise?"

The man released her bandages and checked his clothes. Something was missing... His nostrils flared as he looked back to her. "Stupid girl, how dare you-"

He stopped. Standing before him now was the other woman he thought he would aim for after he took the little girl. She stared him down with a slight frown.

He put on his best smile, but the prisoner could not help his twitching. "H-hello, li-"

Fran lifted her right leg and kicked him down the well; his screams resounded throughout the steadily deteriorating walls of the Nalbina fortress.

She turned around and glared at the rest of the males, as if to say, 'Let this be a warning.' It took a few moments, but the rest of the prisoners understood that they were not to be trifled with. Well, the Viera definitely wasn't, but the little girl was safe only as long as that beauty was with her.

Anya hurried back to Fran, who began backtracking, as she had decided that they needed to take the path east of the well. "Odd," Anya remarked. "What paradise was that silly man talking about?"

"It is better you do not know." Fran answered, and that was the end of that. Now that she thought of it, Anya never spoke out against her decisions or orders. She could only wish Balthier was as docile, but then they would not be so alike if he were. Under different circumstances did Anya leave her home; different in that she had no longer had one. She was indebted to them. Balthier willingly, even forcibly, gave everything up to be free...with her? She could only wish.

Jahara, in the Bancour Region. Yes, that was the setting of their first meeting. She had been collecting supplies from a friend of hers, a Garif, in exchange for caring for a few of his tribe's Nanna when a distinctly Archadian airship crashed right outside their village. Once she convinced her Garif comrade that the one man she had found in the 'blasted piece of machinery', as he called it, was not hostile, the tribe allowed her to care for the Hume in their village so long as he left with his airship the moment he recov-

"Those Seeq are-!" Fran clamped Anya's mouth shut– in surprise and only in mild annoyance at the interruption– as soon as she opened it. The two were on the right path, but what a dangerous path it was. This following area was more 'open' in a sense that one could escape if he were to find a way to climb out of the large opening in the ceiling. Tall, narrow pillars of Nabradian design circled the opening and shielded the surrounding area from sunlight. Dug directly below the light was a small, square-shaped arena enclosed by metal bars, and each side of the square had vertical doors that were currently closed.

Closed, for inside the arena was a very vulnerable Bangaa cornered by three barbarous Seeq. Their crude clubs brutally connected with the Bangaa's side, mouth, spine, and anywhere the Seeq could reach, causing the defenseless prisoner to hack up blood with every hit from every wound in his body. Still covering Anya's mouth with her right hand, Fran made sure to stay behind the pillars and out of sight.

"It's best we keep out of such troublesome affairs," Fran whispered to the Hume, only releasing her once they came to the agreement that she would say nothing. Anya knew she couldn't have done anything anyway. She was just as defenseless as that Bangaa and would be just as battered if she intervened; a mere cutpurse would never be able to stand up to those savages.

Fran cocked her head from behind the pillar and observed two branches of stairs on the second floor of the coliseum that merged in the center of the room and led up to a steel gate. Whether its bars could be opened by magic or mere lock picking she did not know, and she certainly wouldn't venture to find out. It was too conspicuous to approach; surely there was another way out.

Anya helplessly watched the poor Bangaa give his last breath. It struck her deeply, for she kept a Bangaa close to her own heart, a Bangaa who had never once failed to engage her in playful sport, and their resemblance frightened her. The Seeq tossed his body to the side as they lumbered out of the arena to find another victim. Quietly following Fran to another exit the Viera had found, Anya saw that the Seeq's next target was a red Bangaa. The new prey fell from one of the higher floors of the coliseum-like area. He glanced up, but at the shrill cries of his predators the lone prisoner shrieked and started to crawl away. A futile attempt, as the Seeq effortlessly jumped down after him and pounded their clubs upon him as they did the previous Bangaa.

"No, don't!"

Vaan! The towheaded boy one year her junior had caught the violent Seeq's attention...where was Balthier? He was sure to be their mark once they slaughtered this Bangaa!

"Anya, we must go." Fran tugged at her left arm, having failed to notice Vaan. Did she not want to rid herself of this show of cruelty?

"Go on ahead," Anya whispered back, unable to take her worried eyes off the boy she now considered her real friend. "I'll follow."

Fran nodded hesitantly and squeezed Anya's arm. "Be safe," she said, and disappeared into her aimed passage.

What was she to do now? Save Vaan from the Seeq? Granted, they were not as civilized as she thought they were, but she had Seeq acquaintances back in Rabanastre! Not that she could ever understand what they were mumbling about and always required some sort of translator, but still...theirs was a terrible game that even she would not engage in.

And even if she did, the red Bangaa was dead.

"He was defenseless..." muttered Vaan cautiously as the two Seeq advanced towards him. He took a step backward with each of theirs forward and realized all too late his mistake. He watched with mixed fear and displeasure as the two Seeq snorted to each other. What could they be talking about? How to kill him? How they would hammer their spiked clubs at him? Where were Fran and Anya? Would he ever see Penelo again? Oh, what he would give right now to hear the constant nagging he received from her everyday. Maybe he should have listened to Balthier... But before he could continue his list of regrets for the past two days, the last Seeq of the trio jumped down from the second floor and clubbed him unconscious.

Penelo was going to kill him.

Anya shook her head and moved to confront the three Seeq (whom she decided to be in the same level as the fiends in the sewers) without a thought as to how she would defend herself, but another Hume stood before her and served to be a momentary distraction. She watched him distrustfully, because she saw in his eyes the same corrupted gaze the previous Hume had. This man deserved to be here.

"Where did your beautiful friend go, little girl?" he asked, looking around for Fran. Anya slowly backed away from him. The duration of his stay here was not as long as the other strange Hume, as the only physically disgusting thing about him was his mud-smeared hair and the raunchy vibe it emitted from him (and that wasn't the only foul thing he emitted), but he seemed to be just as crazed as the first one.

"Somewhere you are not," she answered, bending her knees slightly and preparing to run in the direction Fran had left for earlier. She had to save herself before she could save Vaan, didn't she?

"I see," the smelly man sighed. He looked to his left and right. "Then I suppose you will have to do!"

Anya skipped three steps backward to avoid the prisoner's sudden yet expected pounce. "You would have me settle as a second choice?"

"I'll settle for no less," replied the man, who suddenly carried a knife in his right hand. Anya's eyes widened. The game seemed to have gotten a mite more complicated, but she had the perfect rules to apply to this one.

Stepping forward with her right foot, Anya caught the man's wrist just as he lunged forward to stab her from above. She turned around in a half-twirl, still holding the man's wrist above her, before she flipped him over and threw him to the ground.

"You'll have to settle for nothing, you..." Anya paused as she noticed the prisoner lying on the ground, painfully groaning and holding his back. She gasped. "I...I...I attacked you! Ha! Ahahahaha! I actually–actually–a Hume! I win! Tatah will be so–gaahk!"

Repeated stabs at her feet stopped Anya's celebration and caused her to steadily hop on one foot to the other. Tired of the surprisingly persistent girl, the prisoner tricked Anya and broke the pattern by stabbing in one direction twice. He missed intentionally, but the girl had finally tripped. He stood and almost cherishingly stared at his 'prize', silently congratulating himself. There the girl lay, her elbows scraped against the ground and the bandage around her right wrist gone. She was too weak to stop him, and as he crouched over her helpless figure and stepped on her bandage tauntingly, he wondered how she got thrown into the dungeons in the first place. Ehh, no use troubling over what was done; what mattered was that he had the girl now.

"Mind if I cut in?"

The prisoner turned around, only to meet someone's hard fist with his face. His attacker wasted no time in grabbing him by the shoulders and kneeing him in the face and the stomach before throwing him aside, unconscious.

As he helped her stand, Anya glanced up to the man she now owed her gratitude, but found that she had owed it to him long before this moment.

"Tatah!"

"Oh, now look what he's done." Balthier pointed to Anya's bare right wrist. Without another word, he opened his vest and tore off a piece of cloth from his white undershirt. And as if things couldn't get any more unusual, Anya noted that Balthier's undershirt had already been ripped. When could that have happened? He disliked it when his clothes were under quality in any way! She then noticed her previous bandage, the one that had been befouled by that loathsome prisoner.

Suddenly, Anya felt terrible about the contempt she had been harboring for him earlier.

Balthier proceeded to wrap the newly torn cloth around her wrist. Patting her head lightly and making sure not to expose her genuine hair by accident, he said, "Will you be fine now? It seems you're not the only one in need of the leading man..." He turned around and motioned to the arena, whose doors had suddenly closed in on Vaan and his three Seeq assailants.

Anya gave Balthier a grateful smile. "Yes... Forgive me."

He looked back to her and gave her a confused grin. "For what?"

"Disobeying you."

Before Balthier could ask when and how, the three Seeq's grunts called to him. "Find Fran and tell her about us," he instructed her, jogging towards the arena. "We'll be needing that escape route soon!"

Two areas away, Fran had managed to find the nearly perfect escape route, its one flaw being that...it could not be opened. Strong magick bound the door shut, and even if she were powerful enough to open it, she did not know the spell needed to do so. Besides, she felt the...ah, never mind. How was she to deliver such aggravating news to Balthier? Not to say that she feared him, but was there anyone who appreciated disappointment? She hoped he would not feel such towards her and that they were all still alive as she made her way back to the arena. After all, Humes had the exceptional ability of getting themselves and their companions into unwanted trouble...

Balthier especially. How strongly he resisted swift recovery with his constant thrashing about in his sleep and subconscious refusal of the Garif's distasteful yet effective medicine. The Garif had even required the War-Chief's aid in pinning him down just to give him a decent change of clothes as he angrily murmured and cried about insanity and broken families... When he awoke, however, he was so pleasant that the Garif agreed to let him stay a few more days until his airship was repaired. But Fran had watched him, and when he was away from the Garif's watchful eyes, she knew he wore a mask hardier than any they could ever craft.

"Amba, there you are!"

Fran and Anya gazed upon each other with obvious relief. She didn't want to admit it, but Fran was genuinely amazed that her little Hume was still alive. And glad, of course, but still shocked. She filled Fran in on all the details of her survival and Vaan's (hopefully), and the Viera was glad that she had disregarded her previous spite for Balthier as they reached the coliseum.

The place was...quiet. The prisoners had cleared out of the area, all of them, except Balthier and Vaan, who were still stuck inside the arena, the bodies of the three unconscious Seeq piled together beside them. As Fran moved closer to the pillars surrounding it, she saw the reason for the sudden silence and why the two were crouched directly below the steel gate she had noted earlier.

Imperials. The lot of them had lined up by the stairs and made way for their captain, or whatever the pigs wanted to call their immediate leaders. Following said man was a vicious-looking Bangaa. And vicious that monster certainly was, thought Fran. Following the brute were two more Bangaa, though it was obvious that the first was the head of the group. Ba'Gamnan was the name of their benevolent leader. Fran knew all too well the reason for his appearance, but she was determined never to allow him to fulfill his goal. Whatever it took...she and the others had to open that door.

"Ugh. They're relentless, aren't they?" Anya groaned at the sight of Ba'Gamnan. He had been the reason for many of her nightmares, not excluding her latest. She had the scar on her ankle to prove that valid, but comforted herself with the fact that he didn't have his weapon– the Ba'Gangsaw– with him today.

Nodding in agreement with Anya, Fran stealthily made her way towards one of the arena's gates and managed to pull it up slightly. Balthier immediately noticed her and alerted Vaan as he tiptoed to the gate, frequently looking back to Ba'Gamnan and the Imperials.

"Through the oubliette, there's a way out," Fran told him before she looked away. "Only..."

"Only you sense the Mist." As Balthier nodded in understanding and crouched to crawl out of the arena. Fran felt a burden being lifted from her person, and then her unguarded eyes met Vaan's. For a moment the stubborn Rabanastran thought he saw relief in them, but the nonchalant gaze he first thought she would have replaced it after he blinked in shock.

"Then we'll need weapons," Balthier stated, dusting sand off his sleeves as Vaan followed his actions. Vaan turned to Fran and tried to find any expression other than what seemed to be indifference to no avail; he wondered if it was really just his imagination before. Then again, why bother? He wasn't counting on knowing these three for too long, anyway. Maybe Anya, or Adela, as he once knew her, but since she was a Sky Pirate and the two adults seemed to care about her a lot, they probably wouldn't let her come back to Rabanastre after being thrown into the dungeons...oh, man. He was in for one of Penelo's dreary sermons when he got back. Vaan could already see Penelo morphing into a Behemoth, tearing her wing-like shoulder guard things off, and angrily stabbing him in places that hurt. Ouch. Eegh.

The mental image of Penelo's creepy but possible transformation faded from his mind as the green Bangaa and Imperial with the face (he was the only one whose visor was lifted) started arguing. Vaan turned to watch his three companions observe them with mixed interest and anxiety. Yeah, he wanted to leave, too. Now. If he weren't able to imagine Fran scolding him the way Amalia did in Rabanastre, he would complain.

"Eh?" The green Bangaa stopped tugging at his ears and turned around to face the Imperial with the face (Anya said he could be a captain, but she wasn't sure). Vaan cringed inwardly at the sight of the headhunter, as the captain called him. The rings on his lower lip and the rest of his face made him look repulsive. "What's that you say now?" the ugly Bangaa said in a very threatening tone of voice. "Maybe I'll whet my blade on you...before I kill Balthier!"

The rest of the Imperials stiffened at this blatant death threat and readied their blades. Vaan just stared at Balthier in bewilderment. He must have been a really good Sky Pirate if headhunters wanted him badly enough to need Imperials to escort them!

"That's enough, Ba'Gamnan."

Vaan and Anya looked to each other in shock as Ba'Gamnan– that must have been the name of the Bangaa, Vaan thought– so obediently followed this order. Much better and obviously stronger armor clearly distinguished the Imperial that emerged from the steel gate as one of the higher-ups of the Imperial Army, his black cape billowing behind him. He stepped down to their level, and his helmet, which had symmetrical curved, inverted horns at the side, shielded his face from their sharp eyes. Hmph. Vaan didn't know why he had to hide his face, but he didn't care, either. He bet the guy's face couldn't be of any interest, anyway.

"A judge," Fran spat.

Vaan stared at her in wonder. "Judge?"

Balthier snorted at the word. "Hmph. The self-proclaimed guardians of law and order in Archadia. They're the Elite Guard of House Solidor, which effectively makes them the commanders of the Imperial Army. If you ask me, they're more executioners than judges. Not a friendly lot, at any rate," he grimly explained. "What are they doing here?"

Vaan watched with ever growing curiosity as the captain bowed to this 'Judge'. Even Ba'Gamnan stepped out of his way, just as the Judge spoke.

"The Emperor is willing to overlook race for his more talented servants. However, those that do not show respect will receive none in kind."

Ba'Gamnan frowned impatiently. "Your Honor-"

"You travel freely through our lands because the Emperor wills it. Am I correct?"

"Bah..." Ba'Gamnan growled in defeat, throwing his hands in the air and turning around grudgingly. Anya kept her eyes on the Judge Magister as he walked down the left branch of the stairs in the dignified manner she expected him to stride in. She disliked him, and maybe even hated him for what his kind had done to hers, but the fact that he put Ba'Gamnan down so easily ingratiated him with her somewhat.

The itch to escape swiftly rose in Vaan once more as the Judge Magister left Ba'Gamnan to search for Balthier with his two other Bangaa friends. They intimidated him more than the Bangaa he met at Clan Centurio the day before; not that he would ever show it. He was about to start egging the others on to leave already, but Balthier beat him to it. He said something about the hare following the fox. Was he talking about Fran? Because that would be really mean. And what did a hare have to do with a fox? Didn't he mean turtle? Would he have to learn all these terms when he became a Sky Pirate?

"The Magicks binding the door to the oubliette are quite strong," Fran replied to Vaan's questioning look. She didn't seem to mind that 'hare' thing, so he guessed it was okay. "Too strong even for my talents."

"Then how are we g-"

"I thought you would know by now, Anya," Balthier grinned, placing an urging hand on Vaan's left shoulder before releasing him to lead the group. "We're going to get them to open it for us."

Vaan blinked at all of them in confusion. "How is going deeper into this place-"

"What's wrong?" Balthier snapped, causing him to step back in surprise and bump into Fran. He looked to her apologetically while she stared at him with curiosity, which he mistook for irritation. Honestly, Fran had never dealt with a Hume child besides Anya and was contemplating on how she would treat this new one. "You don't trust her?" her partner continued. "Viera's noses are sharp. If she says there's a way out, there's a way out."

Vaan shrugged and followed the three Sky Pirates to the passage Fran had found. On the way, they discovered what Balthier called the 'prison repository of resting relics and railments' or...something. Raiments? Railments? What was the difference? He couldn't pay attention, having been too busy laughing at the song Anya called her 'Ode to My Assassin's Dagger (Not That I Can Kill With It)' and their joy-filled reunion. It was a good distraction for the next Imperial-flooded area, and Vaan was lighthearted as he, Anya, Fran and Balthier slid past the guards and into the room Fran spoke of with the door to the oubliette.

They followed the Judge and his accompanying Imperials to the blue door at the center of the large new area. Anya did not recognize the blue door, whose design consisted of vines (artificial, of course) coiled around its entirety, so she assumed that it was built by Archadia at the beginning of their occupation. She and Vaan were the most amazed as they spied on an Imperial Magus uttering a spell before the door. He faced his palms to each other as if holding an invisible sphere, and true enough, a translucent ball of glimmering bright Azure appeared in the space between his hands. Inside the sphere, a snowflake of the same shade shone even brighter.

The door reacted positively to the Magus' words, beginning to emit light as well, and with a bright flash of electric blue, the vines recoiled. They slinked back behind the door, which opened itself for the taciturn Judge. Once all the Imperials had entered, Balthier stepped forward and stood before their escape route. He grinned knowingly, his plan having worked, and motioned for the rest to follow.

"Wait," Anya held her right hand up as she searched her pouch with her left. "I think I dropped a few phials on the way here."

"Can't you just buy more in the city later?" Vaan asked, looking to the door anxiously. It hadn't closed yet, but right now he didn't want the possibility of being stuck here existing.

"No!" Anya frowned at him, holding her pouch close. "I worked hard for those phials and I need new ones if we're to survive this escape. I'm sure the Empire has chests full of them around here. That and there are no more Imperials in this area, and even if there are, I'm careful enough. Better my footsteps alone than all of ours."

"Fine," Balthier waved his hand at her dismissively. "We'll try to keep the door open for you, but I didn't quite catch that spell...so go, but go with haste."

Anya nodded as her three companions entered the enchanted door before she sprinted off in the direction of her missing phials. She lied when she said she had worked hard for those bottles, for the only vials that were missing from her pouch were the ones she had labeled 'From Monid' before. Well, the label should have been 'Stolen from Monid', but there was no more space on the cork...honest. Still determined to return all she had stolen from the Bangaa (and if she could not, she would have to repay him with Gil), Anya stalked around the area for them and found that she was wrong. There were still more Imperials, but she could use that to her advantage. In place of chests she was given people, and this class of people had so many pockets in their armor. Thankfully, the room was dark, damp, and there was a chilly wind blowing all of a sudden, which made it easy to keep the Archadians believing that the sudden loss of their items (and her new ones) was revenge from prisoners from beyond the grave– which wasn't completely inaccurate, she thought at the back of her mind. Ha ha, silly Imperials. Ha ha! Although she did wonder if those prisoners from beyond the grave had helped make her footsteps a little lighter just then.

When Monid's items were replaced-- rather, accounted for, Anya returned to their treasured escape route. She thanked Faram that it was still open, made the gesture of crossing her chest, and excitedly bounded into the next area. One would be faced with an at least five foot wall the moment he entered, making him swerve to the right and rush down the stairs to really see the contents of the room. As Anya was about to swerve, Balthier grabbed her and clamped his hand over her mouth the same way Fran did earlier; Vaan, crouching against the terrace with the rest of them, put his forefinger to his lips and whispered a silent 'shh'. She arched her eyebrows up and down, desperately asking for an update on what was going on. This silly action, however, only proved to cause laughter to erupt from Vaan, which caused Balthier to clamp his other hand over the other teenager's mouth.

The children rolled their eyes, exhaled vehemently, and decided to simply listen to whatever was happening.

"Such a faithful hound to cling so to a fallen kingdom," remarked the Judge Magister. Who was he talking to? She had seen a sort of cage before she swerved-

"Better than throwing it away."

At this retort, Anya inhaled deeply and held her breath. Her heart felt heavy, and she thought it would burst out at any moment. That hoarse voice, low as a murmur... any dream with such a wonderful whisper would turn into a pleasant nightmare; nightmare, for any dream involving dead princesses and men were called such.

"Throwing it away?" the Judge Magister scoffed. "As you threw away our homeland?"

Our homeland? Our homeland? What could they have had to do with each other?

More metal could be heard clinking against each other, but with each second the noise grew softer. The four didn't need to see what was going on to know that the Imperials were leading them further into their escape route. Or out of, Vaan thought. He didn't care, all he needed to know was if that man in the cage was really...was really that person. That traitor.

Once the Imperials were surely gone, Balthier led them down the stairs. There wasn't much to see. In the center of the room there was a deep hole, and hanging above it was a large birdcage. Inside it...well, Balthier chose not to see anything inside it.

Trembling, Anya stood before the birdcage, but chained inside it, tortured, was anything but a simple flight of fancy. It seemed very possible to her now. After all, 'Amalia' lived. The Marquis really could have been lying. But disappointment was such a painful thing, she knew, because it came to her in large, engulfing waves every morning after every pleasant nightmare she ever experienced. Perhaps she was still sleeping in the Strahl with Nono, their mechanic, tightly wrapped in her arms, and she was just about to be dropped off in Rabanastre.

But then he grunted, in the same troubled way he had grunted years ago, and looked back into her eyes.

And at that moment Anya finally awoke, her eyes and her smile containing anything but the wistful expression they had before. The game they had begun two years ago on Rabanastre's great Cathedral, they ended today. She had sought him. Now, she found him.

"I win."


Sainikah - Bhujerban term for Soldier

Parijanah - Bhujerban term for Guide

Nanna - Large (their backs reach at least the chest of an adult Hume), green, birdlike (in that they have beaks, feathers, and claws) cattle that serve as the livestock of the Garif. They are famous for producing milk that is made into Nanna-cheese, which is famous throughout Ivalice.

Also, one of the 'beliefs' (the second one) of Anastacia's father in Anya's dream is taken from a quote by Anthony J. D'Angelo.

Yiazmat: No problem about asking questions! I welcome those. Flames are just plain bashing, and you're doing anything but that. Anya acts like a child for a number of connected reasons. I hope you read this chapter before looking down here (XD), because it's crucial to understanding why she's such a baby.

When she was a child, Anastacia heard her father saying life was a game and that in times of...well, in really bad times, one must keep making games for himself to play so he might keep his sanity. Now, her father said that because he was still mourning for his late wife's death (the Queen of Nabradia and Anastacia and Rasler's mother), but Anastacia believed and held on to this because she trusted and admired her father so much. Growing up, no one told her otherwise, and so she tried to make a game up for every little thing she did (not everything was a game to her, but she tried to make it so that was the case). Rasler's favorite game was Hide and Seek (if you've read that oneshot of mine), but he never heard his father say anything about life as a game, so he never understood what Anastacia was doing when she was playing all those games (even by herself) and chose to ignore it. In fact, no one understood that quirk of hers (which they ignored, as she was a talented child art wise, whereas Rasler was the intelligent, military-trained one), but Basch tried to. The king was an exception because he never knew of Anastacia's games. So Rasler grew up normally whereas Anastacia played her little 'life games'.

This went on until the King of Nabradia died following the explosion of Nabudis, and got worse when Rasler died, too (which you can see in the oneshot Hide and Seek, but I'm assuming you read it). The news of tge King of Dalmasca's, Ashelia's, and Basch's deaths proved too much for Anastacia, and the Marquis's reaction to these events didn't help. He tried to think quickly; he tried to give her the throne of the newly united Dalmasca-Nabradia and give her a husband--one of the princes of Rozarria--with strong allies so they could gain his strong allies, but this would be forcing Anastacia to grow up, something Anastacia believed she just couldn't do in so short a time. (In the original Prologue, which I changed, the Marquis really told her she had to grow up.) So Anastacia clung to her childishness, to her games, and she ran away from learning to take on real responsibility (and it was a huge responsibility at that, ruling a kingdom and rallying troops to war no matter how bleak the situation was) and growing up.

Anastacia met Balthier during her escape, and as a fellow escapist he allowed her to join him and Fran as sky pirates on the condition that she would change her identity and act as if she'd never had a past as a princess, a condition that ruled over all of them in the group. Balthier had a particular liking for theater and would constantly call himself the leading man. When Anya joined the group and made their duo a trio, Balthier welcomed her to their little 'cast'. To Anastacia, it was just another game of pretend. (Although Anya had a distinct love for games, too.)

Yes, Balthier is only four years older than Anya. Had Rasler not died, they would've been the same age. But Balthier and Anya met under different circumstances. Balthier was a stranger to her and she never saw him as a child or acting like one, so she never saw him as someone she could joke around with like a big brother. No, Balthier was very strict with her in their first six months together (only softening up after Ba'Gamnan had trapped Anya and scarred her with the Bagangsaw, which was when, technically, she had become a real sky pirate because she was finally being hunted down; this happened exactly the way she dreamt it in the beginning of the chapter, except Ba'Gamnan really did reach her), and in those six months the obedient Anya came to see Fran as her new mother figure and Balthier, always strict and never fun, always acting like an adult, her father.

That and Anastacia just couldn't bear to give him Rasler's place as her beloved older brother, plus something goes on with Fran and Balthier every once in a while. Since the three of them loved to visit Bhujerba and since Balthier had found her in Bhujerba, she calls them mother and father in Bhujerban. She calls Balthier by his name most of the time now, however, because Ba'Gamnan told her (as you must've read in the beginning of this chapter) that if she called him father too much, he would abandon her. Anyway, after about a year or a year and a half of spending time together and since Balthier and Fran were no longer teaching her how to survive as a sky pirate (therefore no longer needing to be insanely strict), Anya grew on Balthier and Fran (though Fran had never been as strict with or critical of her as Balthier), and they began to reciprocate and follow the (what do I call it...? This'll sound very odd, but) sort of family system she set up and treat her like the child she acts like, which she just loved. She didn't have a problem with it and neither did they, since she was as obedient as a well-trained six year old. Lately, though, Balthier and Anya have been getting into a few fights because Anya has begun to get rebellious.

So don't worry. All I can say is that children...well, at first they develop into raging adolescents, rebellious and moody and confused with how they feel and are, but after that...

Everyone has to grow up some time, but not everyone has to grow up at the same time.

Thanks so much for reviewing! Remember that I always welcome non-spoilerific questions, just like the ones you just asked! And sorry about the long explanation. I don't know how to keep things short, simple, and straight to the point. XD

If anything needs explaining to you, PM me! Or put it in a review. No need to be scared, I'll answer anything as long as it isn't spoilerific. Spoilerificity (still a word...) depends with each question (and my answer), so you won't know if your question is spoilerific till you ask. :)

Ho ho ho, Constructive criticism is badly needed and greatly appreciated! I know, I know, you already know. :D Thanks very much again for reading!