They were having a tiff over whether or not they should cut their son's hair. The little boy sat between them, amused—Mommy and Daddy played this game over his hair once a day, when Daddy tried to cut his hair in secret.

"I'll not have my son looking so effeminate," Rasler snapped.

"Oh, he's only two," Ashe said patiently, trying not to let him ruffle her feathers.

"At least trim it!"

"But why?"

Rasler gave her a look and crossed his arms, glancing at the baby who was shaking his head "no" wildly, making his hair fly every which way. Rasler grinned and picked the boy up, kissing his cheek. "Fine. He can keep it until tomorrow."

Ashe sniffed awake and the ecstasy faded. No Rasler. No blonde baby. She trudged out of bed and put her slippers on, opening the door and calling grumpily for a breakfast she would not be able to eat.

-

Larsa Ferrinas Solidor marched into his father's audience chamber and slammed his hands down on the desk. Emperor Gramis looked up from his discussion with Dr. Cidolfus Demen Bunansa, who was now looking at Larsa with mild interest. Larsa's brother, Vayne, had turned from peering out the window to see what the child could possibly want.

"What have you all done?" Larsa said, narrowing his lovely eyes into angry little slits.

"Well, that was vague," Dr. Cid said in the coo that he reserved specifically for speaking to the boy. "We've all done many things. You must be a bit more specific, or we could be here all night."

"I had a dream that Lord Rasler Heios Nabradia was dead," the boy said, color starting to rise to his cheeks. "Was no one going to tell me of this?"

Cid's eyebrows arched and he took a step back. "I believe it is not my place to discuss such things with you. That is your father's duty."

Vayne had also turned around, abandoning Gramis to the boy's wrath.

"I also dreamed," Larsa said, talking through gritted teeth, now, "that the country of Nabradia has been practically destroyed."

Gramis stared at his son, unsure of how he was going to explain it without infuriating him further. "Larsa," he started softly.

"Do not 'Larsa' me, Father," he said, his nose crinkling. "I want answers. I slept not two hours last night, tormented with dreams of the deceased prince, and I want to know why."

-

As Ashe poked sadly at her eggs, while Larsa scolded his father, a sky pirate calling himself Balthier and his partner, a Viera called Fran, were sitting in the audience hall of the palace at Rabanastre. They both seemed on edge, and Basch noted, relatively grumpy. He decided to see why they had been caught trying to sneak into the castle late last night.

Balthier rose to meet him as he strode across the room, inclining his head a bit. "I believe-"

"I owe you an explanation," Balthier said loftily. He straightened the cuffs of his shirt and looked Basch in the eyes. "I had no intention of harming anyone or stealing anything. I just happen to be aware that there was no way the king or princess would give audience to a pirate."

Basch looked at him dubiously and motioned for him to continue.

"I have information about the att…" his voice faltered for a moment and he cleared his throat. "The attack on Nabradia. I know…I know who is responsible for it."

"Do you have proof?"

"Solid proof? I'm afraid not. But if you would hear me out—and maybe let their majesties hear me speak, too—then you will find that I am not incorrect."

So, after a few hours of discussion (that is, Raminas agreeing to let Balthier speak, his advisors pitching fits, Ashe backing her father's decision and her advisors pitching fits), they agreed to let Balthier speak.

-

They sat together, Raminas and Ashe, with Basch and Vossler standing on either side of them. Balthier and Fran sat before them, and Ashe decided that the look of intense concentration that the young sky pirate wore on his face was not one that his face was used to wearing, and that she hoped to see him in a more laid-back atmosphere.

"Your name?" Raminas said, looking up at the man.

"Balthier."

"Balthier…?"

"Just…Balthier."

"Very well. How much do you know about the attack on Nabradia, Balthier?"

"More than you, I assure you." This was not said in an unpleasant way, but it surprised the king and princess all the same. "Forgive me if I sounded rude, but…"

Balthier took a deep, ragged breath and started to tell what was easily the most disturbing tale that Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca had ever heard. A Judge Magister had used the Midlight Shard at Dr. Cidolfus' command, and flattened the capitol.

It was now no more than a Necrohol.

That the country had been destroyed by its own relic left Ashe in tears. She covered her mouth so that the men in the room didn't see her lip tremble. Thank the gods that Rasler hadn't seen that. It would have killed—

She started to laugh, and her father, bewildered, turn to put a hand on her shoulder. Her laughter quickly turned to tears and she began to weep for Nabudis.

-

Ashe had left the audience chamber to collect herself, and the meeting adjourned a few minutes later. Raminas announced that Balthier would be staying the evening, and that she was free to keep him company around the castle until dinner.

"I didn't mean to upset you," he said, glancing sideways at her as they walked slowly up the hall.

"It could not have been helped," she said. "I suppose I would have found out eventually, and it was just…a bit much to bear, what with everything that has been going on around here lately."

Balthier, thinking that he knew what she meant, nodded a bit. She realized that he had no idea and averted her gaze when she felt another bout of hysterical laughter coming on.

"I am glad that you were able to tell us something," she said. "And I hope that this will persuade my father to take some action. Marquis Ondore-"

"Has been an advocate for a resistance now for sometime," Balthier finished. "He was the one who told me to come to you with the information. He's hoping to gain your father's support."

"Well, he has mine for all it's worth," Ashe said, suppressing the strange and powerful urge to just laugh and laugh and laugh, because everything seemed so hilarious right then. "I'll try to influence my father's decision in his favor."

The Viera spoke now, and she still seemed so uncomfortable. "There is strange air in this part of the castle."

Ashe thought about this as they walked, and she froze suddenly, her spine tingling as if something cold and slimy had just run down her back.

"We are…above the tomb," she said, trying to remain calm, but Fran saw through her.

"You are nervous."

"I cannot help it," she said, looking guilty. "I have had a few…strange experiences lately."

-

The king treated dinner like a party, and Balthier reckoned, just by looking at him and his daughter, that they were having more fun tonight than they likely had since long before the war.

Raminas retired early, having eaten three or four helpings and having far too much wine. He was tipsy, and Basch was laughing as he helped the old man back to his bedchambers.

Balthier and Fran left when the princess did, and the sky pirate poked about his room curiously, peering into the wardrobe that, to his dismay, continuously creaked open. He gave it a sharp slam and grinned victoriously when it stayed shut.

He hung his vest over one of the bedposts, tossed his belt to the floor, and stepped out of his shoes and fell happily into the bed. He was comfortable, and he finally decided to try to decipher the strange feeling of foreboding that he had felt all evening. He couldn't place it. He couldn't quite remember that it had started the moment he had entered the castle, and had grown with every passing minute. He wriggled under the blankets and clutched his pillow thoughtfully, giving into his drowsiness and falling asleep.

-

At some point after midnight, still hours before the sun would even consider rising, a cold breeze across his cheek woke the sky pirate from a particularly dreamless sleep. He sat up, grumpy, and peered around. The windows were shut tight, and there wasn't a crack in the walls, but the breeze was there, and he peered around, trying to locate its source.

The wardrobe.

He frowned. "Did I not shut you?" he asked rhetorically. Of course he had. He hesitantly swung his legs out of bed (cold, my feet are so cold, my toes will fall off) and padded lightly over to the windows, seizing one of the curtain ties. He walked to the wardrobe and proceeded to tie the knobs of the doors to each other to keep the damn thing closed.

Why was their cold air pouring out of it?

Deciding that he didn't actually want to know, he tied it tight and moved back to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it and pausing to rub his eyes. That feeling of foreboding was back, and he could feel it in his stomach now. For one frantic moment, he thought of going and waking that soldier, Basch fon Something-or-other.

That thought left his mind immediately when clammy hands shot out from under the bed and clamped around Balthier's ankles.

He started to scream, but it pulled his legs, hard, casing him to fall flat on his face. Blood spurted from his nose and he gurgled on it as it ran back through his throat, and those hands started to pull him.

He thrashed, wrenching his body around and screaming in pure horror.

A white haired thing grinned at him, it's teeth caked with strange green moss, and it reeked, oh god, it reeked of death.

"Mine," it gurgled.

Balthier shrieked again, his nails leaving deep gouges in the wood planked floor where he tried desperately to hold on.

"STAY AWAY FROM HER," it roared, and Balthier nearly fainted then, but he kicked hard, he fought unconsciousness, knowing that if he was pulled under, he would never get out.

"Mine mine mine mine she is mine."

And then, Fran was pulling him up and he collapsed against her, sobbing, bleeding and screaming.