"It is a beautiful evening, isn't it, Basch? The sky is such an interesting hue… To be granted opportunity to behold such wonders gives one cause for gratitude in this at the least despite all else." Larsa's voice was reflective and serious.

"Yes, my lord. Truly it is. And truly it does." Basch answered quietly.
The color of the horizon was almost as it had been that day…though one would find no wheat or sand in this place of landscaped gardens and cobbled streets. Still the warm blend of light touched the leaves and washed the turrets with a glow.

Larsa smiled, and the two resumed their walk along the palace grounds, enjoying the statuesque fountains and exotic birds that fluttered through the air and nested among the small trees.

"Your proposal for Old Archades is being debated in the Senate." Basch offered the topic for consideration.
He knew fully that the young leader was agonizing over the chances of success.

"The Senate will contest my plans as overmuch at this time, I fear. Even so, it is my full belief that the people of Old Archades will quickly justify our actions and themselves repair this tear in our nation, adding to our collective prosperity their own, if we will only allow."
Larsa paused to take a breath and redirected his thoughts.
"Already the Trade Agreement with Dalmasca has strengthened our economy as well as the peace. And the deserved aid and recognition for our warriors has helped restore and mend many of our own to civilian life with honor-or comfort their families left unprotected financially by their passing. In this we owe you much, my friend. I will not forget."

Basch was silent, uncomfortable with taking credit, but Larsa did not notice. The young leader's face was suddenly grim and he returned to the prior subject. "Not least in all in this is the support we seek for the children left abandoned. It is of utmost import that we see our future as an Empire tied to theirs." Larsa's impassioned words trailed off, and he turned to his guardian with concerned eyes. "Do you think the Senate will approve?"

The children…the fate of the young ones had troubled Larsa's peace since the moment he had looked on them.

Basch could not simply agree to ease Larsa's mind. He valued the young Emperor's ability and keen understanding as equal in strength to his heart and conscious. He would not diminish him with a pretty lie. "…I cannot say, Larsa. I have observed much prejudice against those who have fallen to impoverishment in Old Archades, perhaps because those who have not fear that fate so. Will they allow those who were systematically shunned the opportunity to compete for prosperity or see this measure of freedom as a threat to tradition and their power? I believe it will be highly contested."

Larsa's eyes were sad. "…Do you think I ask too much?"

"No, Larsa. You are right in the wish to restore your people. Do not lose faith. You have won friends, and the people make their voice heard daily on your behalf. Continue for them. You give them hope."

"As you give hope to me, my friend. Always." The young Solidor did not say, As I draw strength from you, dear Basch...I hope I do not ask more than my share.

Larsa's eyes were bright with emotion, and Basch reached an armored hand to rest briefly on Larsa's shoulder in an encouraging gesture.

"Did you answer the letters you chose today?" Basch asked lightly, hoping to take a measure of the weight from the young shoulders which just now had seemed strained.

Many of the letters were quite serious and burdened the young leader with the trials of the people. Always these heartfelt pleas or messages of loss and sorrow he answered as if the pain they felt was his own. But, thankfully, not all were of such a grim nature.

Basch turned his head, unable to help smiling as he recalled that one scented message had been from a young Bhujerban from an all girl's school. She had expressed her undying devotion and gratitude for all "Dearest Larsa" was suffering on behalf of Ivalice. There had even been included a substantial poem lauding the young Emperor. "Ode to Larsa."

Basch first had it confirmed that the scent was of floral extract and was not poisonous. He then had the girl's background checked and her identity authenticated before allowing the letter through. But she was as she represented herself: a thirteen year old student with "I heart Larsa" carved into her school desk. Larsa had turned the most peculiar shade as he read the many pages, and he had selected it among the percentage he would personally respond to before sending the remaining, more mundane messages with Basch, to be answered by an assistant-under Gabranth's careful review.

"Oh. Well…" Larsa once again blushed, and then he turned serious eyes to Basch's unmasked face. "Basch…did you ever…have you…" Larsa stopped speaking and started walking. The next words from his mouth were a change of theme. "My but aren't the birds happy today, Judge Magister?"

"Yes." Basch smiled. They walked a few yards down the path and across the lawn, allowing Larsa time to unwind and rest his mind after a tedious day-and his guardian to attempt the same. "It was quite kind of the nice young lady from Bhujerba to write you her support. Such sentiment is gratifying, seeing she does not call Archadia home."

"Look there, Basch! I see a dove!" Larsa's voice was slightly high.

"Indeed! Lovely! …What was her name?"

"Eira." Larsa suddenly stopped and turned to Basch with such embarrassment in his eyes that all mild amusement fled and Basch's face was at once apologetic and concerned.
But Larsa just stood frozen, as if wishful of speaking but unable, and then he looked away, troubled.

"Forgive me, Larsa. I did not intend you harm." Basch said softly, and Larsa looked up at him with unsettled eyes. The expression on his face was every bit the young boy he was.

"Of apology there is no need. I am being foolish to act so."

"No, Larsa, not foolish. These feelings you experience are quite normal. This young lady admires you, and that you are flattered by her affection is to be expected and understood. There is no shame in it."

"She speaks of Larsa Solidor as a champion, and that one does not exist." Larsa was suddenly grieved, his eyes staring at the earth.

"Maybe." Basch spoke with all seriousness. "And maybe she is closer to truth than you believe. But do not let it worry you. When you are ready, when it is time, you will find one who will love you for the heart that beats inside. Until then, take these moments along the way and add them to the pages of your memory."

Larsa breathed deeply, a sigh of relief at the reassurance his guardian's words brought.
"Surely then you have faced such unsettling incidents?"

Basch allowed a rare, unfettered smile. "Allow me to relate a story from my own past…"

They sat upon an ornate bench, and Basch stretched his long black-clad legs.

"I was thirteen and did not even know enough to realize she liked me. All I knew was that she somehow happened always to be wherever I went."

"Hi, Basch! Are you going into town? Really? Me too! I'll walk with you!"

"I suppose I knew that she enjoyed our friendship, but I was not willing to admit to more on either her part or mine."

"Basch, I don't know why people think you and your brother look alike. You are much more handsome. No, really, it's true!"

"For the better of a month it went on."

"Hey, Basch! Let's go hiking today! I'll race you up the trail!"

"But there was something else I didn't see…"

Noah…

"Who invited her?"

The little girl at Basch's side had given Noah a peculiar smirk that she'd never used on Basch, and Basch saw his brother's lips tighten and nostrils flair.

"I am with Basch!" The little girl's hands had wrapped around his arm.

Noah scowled, "Of course you are." He turned to his brother with a strict warning: "I'm not doing your part of the work! Don't bother asking!"

Basch smilingly confessed to Larsa,"I did do my chores. But I must admit that during that month I was not home as often as before to be the one asked to do the additional work. Noah was…less than pleased."

Putting it most mildly.

"Do you maybe want to go swimming tomorrow, Basch? It looks like it'll be a nice day for it."
This agreeable offering had come from his brother after a week of the budding friendship-a week in which he and Noah had barely seen one another save at dinner and work.

"Oh, uh, well…" Basch was uncomfortable at best.

"What?" Noah's surprise and confusion had been genuine and then turned slowly to a heated glare as understanding came. "…Oh. Fine. Go with her then! I don't care!"

The door to their room had pulled through its sturdy frame with the impact of that slam, and neither of them had gone anywhere that day…
Not that the enforced togetherness, as they mended the frame and spent the evening confined to their room, had brought them any resolution.

"We can go swimming tomorrow, Noah. Maybe before breakfast?" Basch had attempted to negotiate, feeling guilty in the knowledge that he had spent more time with his new friend than his brother of late-and knowing that she would be waiting after he finished his morning meal to go fly kites as they'd already planned.

"Forget it. You don't want to keep the girl waiting, do you?" Noah had turned his back and curled up in bed, feigning sleep to avoid Basch.

"Maybe she could come swimming with us."

This had brought Noah at once out of his pretense with a violent start and gave Basch cause to worry that if his brother's hand found the book near the bed they might be inside for the rest of the weekend, patching a hole in the wall or polishing a new window pane.

"Or maybe just us…after I get home from-"
Basch had stopped when Noah glowered at him murderously.

"I don't want to go swimming anymore, Basch! Just forget it already! It was a stupid idea anyway. Go spend the day with that girl. Why should I care?"

Noah had jumped off the bed and stormed into the washroom, staying so long that Basch had begun to think he'd fallen asleep or taken ill, but eventually Noah had returned to resume his position of facing the wall, away from his brother's eyes.

"For the couple of weeks I spent my free time with her, by accident or plan. It was all a very new experience then… I did not see it, but I was flattered that she would wish my company. Now and then I mentioned to her that I planned to invite my brother along on our excursions, but he was too irritable to risk my asking again." Basch laughed softly at the memory, and Larsa's watched his guardian's face closely, glad to see the gentled eyes. "One day she came home with me. I went up to my room to change, and when I came down I could hear my friend laughing and talking with my mother. Not wishing to disturb them from their conversation, I left to do my outside work."

When she appeared in the door of the storage shed, Basch had been happy to see her and almost gave himself away with a familiar greeting. The stern slap to his cheek had silenced him and shocked him to the core.

"What did I do?" He had managed, hurt and confused.

"You know what you are doing!"She hurled the accusation bitterly. "I've told you before-don't get between Basch and me. He's mine! Understand?" She had shoved him and hurried back out the door. Basch followed her to the doorway in time to see her intercept Noah as he was coming from the house. She had wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her face to his, and then she was gone, running down the path toward her own home.

And there Noah had remained, frozen like a statue, arms limp at his sides.

"I am sorry, Noah." It had been easy enough to say, with his own cheek stinging and the hurtful accusations meant for his brother in his own ears.

But a smile had come to Noah's face that continued to spread as he lifted a finger and touched his lips with a dreamlike expression. "I'm not!"

They had immediately enjoyed a rowdy game of tag, chasing one another around the house and into the trees, before their mother had called them inside. The mangled night had untangled itself, leaving the brothers out of breath and exhausted as they climbed the stairs to collapse in their bed, happy in their new confusion.

"Oh my!" Larsa's eyes widened. "She mistook the two of you for each other."

Basch laughed. "Yes. Yes, she did." He would not mention that if not for the girl's mistake that night, things between the brothers might well have continued to deteriorate. It had been a fortunate mistake, and the sting had not lasted as long as it might have otherwise...

"And what happened?" Larsa prodded curiously.

"I told her I couldn't see her again. It was for the best." Basch would not disturb Larsa with the question of whether with the passing of a couple more years he might have chosen the girl over his brother. Such was the way of things… War had taken that choice and given him another.

She had blamed Noah, of course, for Basch's absolute and unexplained decision, but Noah had grinned and welcomed her anger. Eventually she had proclaimed the both of them worthless and found a new object of her admiration, in the form of a boy without a sibling to rival her.

"Oh!" Larsa exclaimed. Clearly he'd expected a less abrupt conclusion-as had Basch's mother. She had attempted to encourage Basch, with no success, toward settling his differences with the girl.

What his mother could not have known is that on that day at such a young age Basch had made himself a vow that he would not again be so easily swayed…that the next love to attempt a claim on his heart would only be allowed if that love were true.

Basch watched a bird take wing, and to him it seemed instead the unfurling of the flag of Dalmasca-and within the banner the form of one whose charge he had for a time so solemnly held. His heart ached just a little.
And then the wind changed, and there rippled the Archadian standard, upon it the crest of House Solidor. His once despised enemy had now become the keeper of his oath, and, looking into Larsa's young face, Basch could not allow himself a wish to grieve.

"The experience was a strange one, certainly. There was no map to follow, and I could find few clues. I confess, in many ways it all left me more perplexed than before. Still, I don't regret it. I don't regret it at all."

Larsa smiled slyly, his eyes twinkling with laughter. "I will answer the letter if you tell me what your young lady's name was."

Basch thought for a moment on the question of whether it would be better to have forgotten or to remember that first crush for Larsa's sake, but, whatever the case, he simply told the truth.
"Her name was Hala." His lips turned to a soft smile as he recalled that innocent time, and Larsa's face shared the same gentleness as he witnessed the far-off look in his guardian's eyes.

As the sky began to darken at the first touch of night Larsa rose, "Very well, Basch, I suppose I should return to my quarters. There is a letter to compose."

Night fell peacefully and Basch walked onto the parapet to greet the moonlight that bled its milky glow into the black sky. Dawning found him the same, having passed a few hours between in such sleep as could be found between the shadow of memory and dream. He had risen, as always, before the sun to begin his busy day.

Every day had its challenges, and for Larsa he prayed this day would go well.
Soon they would know the mood of the Senate, for Larsa himself would be called upon to defend his initiative before the body.

The Senate might have conceded and credited themselves in the passing of the last contested measure, but Larsa was becoming day by day a force to be reckoned with.
Basch could feel the Senate steeling itself to secure its own power. It had not been forgotten in the atmosphere of peace and restoration that Vayne Solidor had disbanded and dishonored them.
Larsa's own reconciliatory measures of reinstating the body, while accepted as being only right and proper, had grated upon the Senate's pride at the very need for such an act.

These political games disturbed Basch, who would that the powers within the Empire might work together to strengthen the whole. The relationship between Vayne and the Senate had clearly been a divisive one, fraught with animosity and intrigue, but Basch did not wish to see Larsa's young spirit and resolve torn by contention. Well he knew that war and peace each had their battlegrounds and struggles of power. The paths and pains were different, and yet each course inflicted its scars. Such was the way, and the young leader could not avoid it.

Basch drew a deep breath.
It was time.

As they settled into the hovercar, Basch turned to Larsa and spoke with the voice of the Gabranth that was. "Today you fight for peace, and your weapon is the hope in your words. Never let this be taken from you, my lord. Hold fast, and strike hard."

"Yes, Judge Magister Gabranth." Larsa answered formally, but there was the familiar gratitude and affection in his eyes, and he pressed Basch's hand.

"You will do well." Basch encouraged very quietly, in his own low tone.

Larsa looked to him with full eyes. "I do as I must," he returned as quietly.

A shadow crossed Basch's face. As I must…

The rest of the ride was passed in silence.

Gabranth exited the hovercar first, making a careful visual sweep of the grounds and the steps to the Senatorial Chamber. He took in the members of the Guard posted in several defensive positions before stretching forth his armored hand to give Larsa the sign that all was well and help him from the craft.

Larsa, clothed in his finest robes, looked more the Emperor than ever in the set of his eyes and the seriousness of visage.
He emerged into the light of day and into the protective covering of Gabranth, who took an immediate place as shield behind the boy.
Any who would think to strike now would first find Gabranth's body as the deflector, as had always been since the name Gabranth had first become known in the service of House Solidor.

Flanking the polished stone steps were somber statues depicting the fathers of the Senate holding scrolls of the law or with hands outstretched in debate and exhortation.
The granite doors of the Great Hall were opened wide for the young leader, but no herald would announce his arrival-Larsa wished as little fanfare as allowed by tradition, a desire the Senate was for once happy to oblige.

They made their way into the vestibule where stoic stone columns rose from elaborate bases and met the ornamented ceiling with carved capitals.
From there Gabranth escorted Larsa through the private side entrance that would allow him to take his place with as little disturbance as possible.

The first Senator set the tone. "Already we have been asked to drain our resources for a war where we can claim no victory. Already we have been asked, and agreed to, a trade agreement that provides as much for the economic support of our enemy as our homeland. Now you would turn our own citizens against us?"

The second aged voice seamlessly took over the cause of the first. "Are we to be held responsible for every ill decision made by your House and our citizenry? My lord, we will find ourselves bankrupt!"

The questions and accusations continued one by one. They were prepared.

"There are orphanages plenty. Perhaps, Grace, you are unaware."

Basch stood waiting close enough as to be at Larsa's side in a heartbeat but far enough as to not seem overpowering. Behind his helm he grimaced at the heartless droning, and felt the heat of indignation rising at the patronizing tone taken with the young leader.
But Larsa stood tall, though his profile was pale and Basch could tell, though none else might, that Larsa's fists were clenched beneath the full sleeves of his rich tunic.
"Strike hard, Larsa. Strike hard." Basch whispered, and Larsa spoke.

"Gentlemen. The Empire won a great victory the day the war ceased. The Empire won honor and pride in the securing of this peace."

Basch thoughtfully processed the young Solidor's description of the war's end. The words were not untrue but sounded strange to the ears of a former Captain of a Resistance land.

Larsa did not pause for Basch's thoughts to keep pace. "...It is on our shoulders to keep these. We will win another great victory the day we raise our countrymen to their feet." His voice strengthened, and his frame relaxed but seemed stronger yet as conviction powered him. "Their shame is our shame. If we do not wish to be left to shoulder the burden of all, and so crumble beneath this heavy load, we must provide a path for our brothers and sisters to succeed and not only to survive." His fervor rose. "Esteemed Senators, with all due respect, we have not such a path at present, and this is our disgrace. We have closed the door to restoration, and say to those who have fallen, 'Stay as you are! Do not look to us for hope or help!' The situation of our people will continue to fail if we do not have the courage to act on their behalf." He turned his eyes around the circle of faces. "I pray you consider your children, your grandchildren, your brothers and sisters. The sons and daughters of Archadia should not be left to languish in the streets without hope."

"What of the orphanages, your Grace?" If it was all they could grasp as an argument they would take it.

"It is good you ask, Senator, for too many of the orphanages of which you speak are ill run and overfull. I am glad to know of your concern. You will be interested to know that here I have a detailed report showing the unacceptable conditions in which live even these children who have found shelter. It is a disgrace that we cannot afford if we hope to keep our honor."

Basch closely watched the faces of the Senators. There was anger there. Larsa was fencing them in, and they did not appreciate his strong tone and aggressive stance.

"We will do what we must to preserve the honor of Archadia, my lord." The voice of the Senator was edged, and Basch tensed. Was there a threat in those words?

"This will take time to sort out. We will require a copy of your reports, as well as the expenses you expect to be incurred, and your expectations of how these might be refunded. " This voice was dry. They were intent on stalling.

"They have been prepared. You will find all the materials necessary. I am most desirous of working with this highly revered body to reach a solution." Larsa's voice was calm. He had recognized the tone of the Senate and worked now to appease these haughty legislators. Basch inwardly pained for the boy. He should not have to bow to this arrogant number…yet in this way he must.

"We will study the matter and revisit the issue when the particulars have become clear."

"I will also continue to consider what improvements might be made and meet with the people to ascertain their needs. I look forward to our next soon meeting, gentlemen." Larsa nodded his head, but there was strength in his words and an underlying warning that made clear he would not allow this issue to be shoved aside and forgotten-indeed that he would use his popularity with the people as a weapon if necessary. The Senate understood. It could be seen on every darkened brow that was fixed upon the young Solidor.

Basch's hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of the sword at his side. He rarely carried the swords joined together as his brother often had, not being used to that style of fighting. He was adjusting though, training in his spare time-mostly in the middle of the night when he could no longer sleep. Now and then he caught himself thinking, "Noah will never let me forget this," when in these private sessions some awkward use of the joined blades caused him to grimace. But then he would force that thought away with a twinge of regret... Noah was gone.

Larsa signaled the meeting was over, and the Senate deigned to rise in a show of respect for their leader's exit. Gabranth shielded the young Emperor with increased zealousness and intensity of manner that dissuaded any from approaching as they passed down the stairs and toward their secure, always-guarded hovercraft.

Larsa was silent upon the return trip, and Basch could sense his discouragement. He too remained silent. There was nothing he could find to say. Finally he reached over and patted Larsa's hand.
Larsa leaned his head upon Basch's shoulder, closed his tired eyes, and slept.

Heavy rain fell and the sky was darkened outside though it was yet early in the day.
Basch sat at his large desk reading reports and jotting notes when the methodical pounding of weighted steps alerted him to a soldier's approach.

When the heavy door was opened to him, the soldier stood there drenched by the rain..

"Judge Magister Gabranth. A message for you, Your Honor."
The guard bowed and gave the envelope into the Judge's hands before retracing his path.

Basch broke the seal and removed the carefully folded sheet. He read the message, and then read it once more, as if he could find something within the few words he'd not first seen.

Judge Magister Gabranth,
Your Honor, I request a meeting.
Most urgent.
Concerns my son, Kasan Ranel.
My home.
Your servant,
~Madame Haleine Ranel