Author's Note: Why is this story so saaaad? I think I'm in capable of writing happy things. I looked over the first story in this series, and, oh my god, I miss the days of no angsty-ness. But, hey! My favorite machinist/our secondary main character shows up finally! Mustadio, how I love you. I hope you grow up to be just like Balthier...*purr*

And, yes. Lightning is having some issues right now. She's seeing people from her past, and being plagued by random memories...This will all make sense sooner or later, my lovelies.

Thanks to The Giant Daifuku, HopelessRomanticist, Joshua Chung and Riku Uzumaki for reviewing!


T i m e ' s S c a r

Chapter Four

Bunansa

"How fares Lionel?" Agrias asked as she and Lightning, carrying a suspicious bundle of metal, walked side-by-side through the woods. Ovelia was close behind, her red hood covered the upper part of her face, and Ramza walked not too long after her. "I have heard that it is not as free as it once was."

"Compared to cities of the past, no." The female squire despised pretending that she knew nothing of the past, but she couldn't risk another heated argument between her and the holy-knight. She didn't think she could handle walking off on her own again. "It's hard to tell what freedom is, these days. But once we find Cardinal Delacroix and the Church of Glabados, her Majesty will be safe."

The Princess turned a curious eye to the two women. "Glabados," she whispered. "I have heard many tales of our Church, and the myths that go along with it. Do you know of them, Lady Claire?"

Agrias frowned. "Your Majesty, this is hardly the time for petty tales of—"

"I may know a few things," Lightning answered, barely smiling. "You have heard of the Saint Ajora Glabados, haven't you? He was born in the Lesalian city of Bervenia twelve centuries ago, and was raised in Milados. He preached non-stop of the coming of Paradise, and this infuriated the Pharist priests—and so the Holy Ydoran Empire hanged him as a traitor. When Mullonde, the center of Pharist teachings, sank into the sea, Ajora's disciples began to preach of his divinity, and eventually formed the Church of Glabados."

"Twelve centuries..."

Lightning nodded. "And instead of the Paradise he spoke of, the Cataclysm came and wiped out all of Ivalice's population but the humes. To think, it may have been Ajora himself that destroyed the viera, moogles, all of them."

"Is Glabados the original name of Saint Ajora?" Ramza asked.

"There was once a gather of ruins west of our land." She touched a hand to the auracite around her neck. "The Glabados Ruins in Bervenia."

"Saint Ajora was a good man, and he was killed by false beliefs." Ovelia stubbornly tilted her head upward. "Those who call him a false profit are not to be trusted themselves."

"Only those who lived in his time know of his true intentions. Yet, one cannot help but wonder if he truly was as they say."

At last they arrived in the next city, a small boorish town by the name of Zarland. It was once called the Castled City, famous for its some-what homely qualities, but Lightning felt that the town had become more of what Balfonheim changed into after the death of the Pirate King Rikken. Definitely not the best place for a Princess, but there wasn't any where else they could turn in for the night. Lionel was still quite a distance away.

Agrias was uneasy about the condition of the small shack Lightning managed to find for them, claiming that it was where she used to live in once and a while. No one disagreed with her, noticing the sudden silver glint in her aqua eyes.

"We'll be fine here," she had sternly told the three. "This is just for one night—that's all. We'll make for Lionel when the dawn returns."

While the holy knight remained with the Princess Ovelia, Lightning and Ramza left their hiding place in search of any supplies and food in the seemingly unpopulated town. The night sky was upon them, and the dim street lights did little to shine the way though the roads, but Lightning had no need of them. She could see perfectly well without any form of light, but she wasn't ready to reveal her secret to Ramza just yet. Hence, why she volunteered to go along with him to find supplies. She'd forgotten that humes needed to eat every now and then.

The young mercenary—though she longed to call him a knight, as he once was—didn't meet her eyes every time she looked in his direction, for some reason. There was something familiar about him, however. She couldn't quite place a finger on it, but there was a quality about him that reminded her of...

"What's going on in that head of yours, sis?"

Lightning shut her eyes, stopping in the middle of the road. She felt a warm hand grip her shoulder, and the quiet chuckling followed soon after.

"Go away," she hissed under her breath. Ramza would surely think she'd gone mad if he caught her talking to whatever it was that refused to leave her alone.

"Sheesh, still as tense as ever, aren't you?" When Lightning forced her eyes open, she resisted the temptation to slap Snow across the face. He looked the same as he had before, and that wound in his chest looked as if it had been dealt earlier that day, even. "I thought after spending so much time on your own, you would've learned to be a little nicer to people."

"Why won't you leave me alone?" she pleaded quietly, glancing to where Ramza was standing at the end of the street. "This isn't the best time, Snow."

He removed his hand from her shoulder, and she almost missed the feeling of another's warmth on his skin, even though he wasn't real. But just as he moved behind her, someone else appeared in her sight. Pale blond hair, tanned arms, and the common clothing of a Dalmascan thief. Grinning widely, Vaan waved a hand in front of her dazed eyes.

"Earth to Lightning! You better start moving. That guy you're going around the town with might get suspicious if you don't get back to normal soon."

She pushed past the thief, clenching her eyes shut as she started out into a brisk walk. Then she started to run, thinking that the ghosts, or whatever they were, were following her. Suddenly she fell against someone, nearly falling to the street.

Ramza stared at her, confused. "Lady Claire, are you all right?" he asked. "You look as if you've seen a ghost."

Lightning shook her head. "You have no idea," she murmured. "I'm fine. Just...lost track of time."

"You don't remember, do you?"

She looked up at him, fixing the skirt of her armor. "Pardon?"

There was a sudden intense look in his eyes, the same look he'd gotten when he was reunited with Delita. "When I was but a boy...There was a woman who visited me with a man by the name of Cidolfus. I took hold of her ragnarok greatsword, attempted to use it, and when my father scolded me, she found it amusing that I had chosen that sword to use." He almost smiled. "She stayed with my family for the next few days, and told me of a world before our own. She taught me how to properly use a blade in battle—and it was she who influenced my decision to become a knight."

Eyes unmoving, Lightning was silent. What had prompted his need to tell her about his past? Seeing ghosts?

"Even though I was but a toddler when we met, I remember you as clear as I see you now, Lady Claire. You haven't changed at all. In fact," he squinted his eyes, "It's been nearly two decades. How is it that you've not aged?"

She turned away from him, glancing all around. "Look, I don't know what you're talking about—"

"It was you. It had to have been!"

"I'm not her anymore!"

The sound of heavy footsteps invaded their conversation, and Lightning swerved around in time to see a young man run past her, followed by three swordsmen. The familiar scent of gun powder filled her senses, and without even thinking, she dashed after them. Confused once again, Ramza drew his sword and went after her.

"You've nowhere left to run!" she heard one of the men yell. "All we want is the Stone—we needn't take your life!"

The young man's voice was next, trapped in an alleyway. "What Stone? I have no Stone!"

Lightning stopped running, as did Ramza, and she peered around the corner of the old armory shop. The three men had cornered the boy, their blades and daggers prepared to strike him down.

"Do not play the fool with me, Mustadio!" the leader snarled. "Do you forget that we hold your father? It's simple. Give us the auracite, and your father lives." Hearing that term, Lightning gasped, but the swordsman motioned for his comrades to come closer. "Right, then. Seize him!"

She saw the boy's face, and her heart, if it could, would have stopped beating. Mustadio had blond hair tied back into a small ponytail, and he held a small pistol in his hands, clenching it to his chest. But his dark eyes—they looked so much like his. Lightning ignored Ramza's attempt to hold her back, not bothering to unsheathe her ragnarok blade, and walked into the their view. The leader raised an eyebrow at her sudden appearance.

"What's this? A she-witch defending this cur?"

"Why are you after the auracite?" she demanded. "There's none left in this world—"

"Enough words, girl!"

The first swordsman charged at her, but she let out a chuckle when she moved to the side and grabbed his dagger from his hands. She forced her knee against his groin, and he fell to the brick road with a thud. The next man came at her with dual blades, and just as she ducked down, Ramza jumped in front of her and parried his attacks. A bullet flew past her ear, and when she looked up, Mustadio had shot down the last man in one hit.

He was staring at her, some-what surprised, and didn't see that there was a mercenary standing on the roof over their heads. Lightning murmured something under her breath, and sent a Flare spell toward the attacker. He fell and collapsed in front of Mustadio, nearly scaring the boy out of his wits.

Ramza wiped the sweat from his brow and sheathed his sword, walking over to the two and sighing. "Are you all right?" he asked, looking at the one they'd rescued.

"I should be, yes," Mustadio answered, grinning weakly. "Thank you. You saved my life."

"It wouldn't have been right to leave you there to deal with those foul men. And, the Lady Claire seemed persistent to assist you..." The young knight looked around, making sure no one was left. "What is your name, by the way?"

The boy's grin widened. "I'm Mustadio. Mustadio Bunansa."

Ramza's eyes flickered in Lightning's direction, noticing her shocked expression. "I'm Ramza Beoulve. And this is the Lady Claire Bunansa. An odd coincidence, isn't it? It would seem the two of you share the same family name."

Mustadio curiously looked at the squire. "You're a Bunansa, as well?"

"I...I'm not blood related to them, no," she murmured. She couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. "I adopted the name a while back, after a...friend of mine passed away."

The tapping of impatient boots informed the three that someone was waiting for them; more specifically, a holy knight and her Princess. Agrias stood at the end of the alleyway, suspiciously eying the inert forms of the swordsmen. Behind her was Ovelia, staring at the three and smiling gently.

"Come, t'is almost night," Agrias called.


Agrias and Ramza sat at the other end of the shack with Mustadio, while Lightning kept her distance and stayed with Ovelia. Or rather, the Princess stayed with her in order to comfort the seemingly troubled squire.

"Street dogs running for the Baert Trading Company," Mustadio spoke, telling the two of the men who had chased after him.

"The Baert Trading Company?" the holy knight questioned, eyebrows raised.

"Ah, then you've heard of them. But they're no ordinary traders. That business is only a front for more...lucrative pursuits." Mustadio sighed, fixing the brown leather gloves on his hands. "Opium smuggling, slave trading—all manner of vile things, on a grand scale."

Ramza leaned back in his chair, resting his arms behind his head. "What did you do to draw the attention of such as these?"

"I'm a machinist. Do you know the history of my trade?"

While the knight shook his head, Agrias explained, "They say the ruins of a lost civilization lie buried beneath the streets of Goug, the Clockwork City. Relics from the age of Saint Ajora, when air ships numerous beyond counting filled the skies, and men of iron walked the city streets. But the art of crafting such things was lost," she scoffed, "if it ever truly existed at all."

Lightning turned her gaze away from the three, and although Ovelia had reached over and touched her hand, her mind slipped and wandered away on its own.


Circa Old Valendian 723

As we stood outside the palace of Archades, air ships of Dalmasca and Archadia alike flew above our heads after soldiers boarded them, leaving for the seemingly simple war. I would have been with them, but I was told to stay and watch over the Lady Ashe and Lord Larsa when their respective guardians left to fight. The crisp winter air brushed against us, and though I couldn't feel it on my skin, I could sense not only the coldness of the wind, but the tension and anxiousness of those around me.

Ashe, ever radiant and beautiful, stood beside Larsa, now handsome and bold in his adult age. Both were wrapped in elegant robes and furs, wearing the colors of their countries in respect to those who were leaving to fight. At my other side stood Balthier, scowling as if he didn't want to be there, and Fran, who, as always, was unaffected by the change in mood and weather.

Walking out from one of the transport ships was the King-Consort of Dalmasca himselfSnow. He wore the armor of a captain, bearing the sigmas of Archadia and Dalmasca on his shoulder guards, but not to my surprise, he still wore his trench coat. A knight and Lord he may have been, but he would always be that young, rebellious NORA leader to me.

"Well, looks like this is it," he said to us, grinning as much as he could. The ragnarok blade was in its rightful place on his belt, shining even in the misty light around us. "The hero is off to fight another war. At least this time there won't be any mad gods thrown into the battle."

"Ice," Balthier droned, sounding bored, "it's been nearly twenty years and you still refuse to let me live that down..."

His smile widened. "Hey, the psychotic and greedy gods are what brought us all together! Ain't no way I'm going to forget about them so easily."

The Queen sighed heavily, shaking her head. "There are times when I wish you would."

"Don't we all," I couldn't help but chime in.

I watched in silence as Snow said good-bye, just as Basch had an hour earlier. He held Ashe in his arms, reminding her how much he loved her, and only gave her one kiss before moving over to myself and the sky pirates. Fran only nodded to him, never wanting physical contact from anyone but Balthier, and so Snow stood in front of Balthier. The sky pirate was avoiding the taller man's eyes, pretending that he didn't even want to say good-bye.

Without a word, Snow wrapped his arms around Balthier and pulled him close, and unexpectedly, his embrace was returned both gently and reluctantly. I think I was the only one who noticed, but Snow took longer to say good-bye to Balthier than anyone elseeven Ashe, his wife.

"All right, now," Balthier muttered, patting the blond's shoulder. "No need to get all teary eyed, Ice."

Snow moved his arms away, smiling sheepishly. I could see the small tears forming in his eyes. "Right, right. Sorry." He kept a hand on Balthier's shoulder when he turned around and looked at me. "Sis, take care of everyone for me, will you?"

"Will do, hero." I nodded.

It wasn't long after that that he left us, only looking back once and waving. The Leviathan took off, following the other air ships to Rozarria. My eyes found their way to Balthier, and judging by the blank and longing look on his face, staring at the place where Snow once was, he was thinking the same thing as me.

That was the last time we ever saw our hero.


"But it did exist," Mustadio persisted, breaking Lightning away from her trance. "The ground beneath Goug holds the hulks of air ships, and a thousand fragments of machines the gods alone know the working of. A machinist toils to restore this lost legacy—to see these works brought back to life again."

Ovelia rested a hand on her squire's shoulder, and Lightning closed her eyes and huddled her legs close to her chest, leaning into her knees.

"This device you used during the battle," Ramza stated. "Is that one of these machines?"

"What, this?" He pulled out the pistol from his belt, grinning slyly. His eyes seemed to shine with intrigue. "This is a weapon called a "pistol". It uses an explosive powder to propel a metal projectile toward its target. This one is of simple make. There were once pistols said to fire projectiles infused with magicks...And even swords that could do the very same!"

"Pistoled-swords?" Agrias crossed her arms. "How was that even possible?"

"Gunblades, they were called. The legends say that an angel from the other world brought the technology to Ivalice. But this technology was lost when the angel disappeared, and so the age of Ajora was lost, until now."

There was a pause of silence, and Lightning opened her eyes to see that Ovelia was carefully watching her. It was as if she knew exactly what it was that bothered her.

"So why do these hounds of the Baert Trading Company chase after you?" Agrias asked, ignoring the some-what odd look Ramza was giving her.

The machinist purposely avoided her question. "You said you were going to see the Cardinal Delacroix, yes? The cardinal is a hero who fought in the Fifty Years' War. To this day the people of Lionel honor him as such. As does my father. He believes that the cardinal is the only man who can keep the realm from descending into chaos. The cardinal will receive you, hear your plea. And the Princess will be safe."

"And what is it you want?"

"To go with you. I have my own reason for wanting to speak with the cardinal."

"And that is?"

Mustadio bit his lower lip. "To save my father! He is held prisoner. The cardinal is my only hope to free him! Alone, I am just another machinist—the cardinal would never see me. That's why I would join you."

Agrias wasn't affected by his pitiful expression. "You still haven't answered my question. Why is the Baert Trading Company so interested in you? It is as you said; you're naught but a machinist."

He lowered his head, and Lightning recognized the way his shoulders slumped as if he were defeated. "I...I cannot tell you. Not now."

"Then you remain here."

"No! I must see the cardinal! You must trust me, please!"

Earning a glance from the squire, Ovelia stood up and waltzed over to the other three. Almost immediately, Ramza and Agrias knelt before her while Mustadio remained sitting in his chair, dumbfounded. Lightning got up, hesitantly standing behind the Princess and staring at the machinist.

"Very well, then," Ovelia answered for the others. "You will come with us."

A bright smile formed on Mustadio's lips. "You mean it? Thank you, my lady. Thank you!" He attempted to kneel before her, but almost fell on his face in the process.

She stifled a laugh, smiling kindly. "There is no need. You may rise."

Lightning found herself wondering if meeting Mustadio was a mere coincidence, as Ramza had said, or if there was something playing out before them. And so she looked toward the boy, staring at his dark eyes, and told herself that nothing would change; there was no one that could replace him, even if Mustadio looked just like him.


Someone, please, let something happy happen soon. *sniff*

By the way, unless you guys have already voted, there's a poll on my profile about the ending to this series. Should it be happy, or sad? I have a pretty good idea about how I'm ending this, but I still want to know what you guys have to say on the matter.

Also on my profile is a link to my livejournal account, listed as my homepage. I'll be posting drabbles and, eventually, a few stories up on there that I don't necessarily want to post here on . I'd love to hear your guys' comments about whatever I post on there, so it would be much appreciated if you would take a look every now and then. So far, all I've posted is a to-do list, but any ideas or requests you have are welcome!