Three hours of sleep and as many cups of steaming brew had done their part to cut away fatigue from Basch's mind. While the clouds shuffled across the Archadian sky, revealing in slivers and shards a glistening touch of reemerging moonlight, Basch descended into the heavily fortified level where the assassin awaited his fate.
For a moment Gabranth stood outside the secured cell to watch the prisoner. Every visit Basch made found the prisoner the same, unmoved and unchanged. Despite his stark conditions and dim prospects, hour by hour he passed in stoic stillness. This one lacked the despair that Lukan had shown beneath his resignation.
Basch recognized the dead expression as someone who had been conditioned against breaking under interrogation. They had planned for this day.
Basch felt uncharacteristically impatient. The sooner they could pinpoint the movement of the renegade, Meret Denali, the better.
…But then the fortress of the Denali good name would not be so easily assailed as a wall of stone.
Even if the man were to be quietly extricated from his homeland by means of stealth and careful planning… Even if Gabranth should lure the suspect into the steel embrace of Archadia… How easily might the family use this to turn opinion against the Empire-against Larsa…
It would not help that Gabranth had himself approved the recent release.
Would the family rouse the people within their borders, or might they simply appeal to the Dalmascan crown, calling the capture an act of hostility by the Empire?
What would Ashe do?
No higher officer of the Law existed under the Emperor himself than that of Judge Magister.
Basch considered the methods attributed to Gabranth in days past.
What claim could be made by an enemy simply gone without a trace?
No friend or kin would dare speak out, fearing Gabranth would strike again, and take with every covert assault a piece of their livelihood and reputation until they were destitute and ruined.
They would fear what he knew; they would question their every step, until they fell into the trap set for them…
This strategy Basch rejected. Intimidation at the hand of the Emperor's always present guardian would not help to establish this new peace. By those actions not only the guilty would suffer. With them the innocent would return to fear, and hope would hide her face in doubt.
He would determine the facts and speak to the Lady…
For all concerned it would be best the newly crowned Queen of Dalmasca had a clear hand in settling this situation. It would be to the benefit of her rule that she establish to all her strength against rebellion inside her own borders. In accordance, Archadia must be seen to honor her authority within her own land. And yet the Empire must also retain influence and pride, and could not afford to turn a blind eye to those who meant to see them decayed and torn apart.
Together they would reach a solution, and show the world that the new alliance between Dalmasca and Archadia was strong.
A tinge of eagerness overturned his normal calm.
Too long it had been…
Beneath his helm Basch's eyes softened and his lips gently turned, but then he sobered, returning his attention to the unpleasant reason he had come.
A gesture of the hand directed the guards to bring the intruder for yet another round of futile questioning.
The young man's black hair fell in waves along his scruffy face as he sat shackled at the table across from the Judge Magister. Basch spoke matter-of-factly. He knew he'd receive no reply.
"Evit Lukan. Tully Savoy. And now you add your own life to the list of these who must die."
The prisoner's face remained like stone, undaunted by the fearsome Judge Magister.
"Meret Denali deserts his men to face capture and awards their loyal service with death. And yet he did not judge death to be his own just reward when imprisoned these last years." Gabranth received no reaction to the revelation of Meret Denali's involvement.
"You would heap violence and invite death upon yourself for those who measure the worth of your life to be so small?" Still silence without fear or remorse.
The prisoner might as well have already met death for all the emotion he surrendered.
Gabranth was himself silent a time, considering this next in the line of predator victims, and then offered quietly. "Your silence will gain you no more than came to the one who died at your hand."
The door opened and a guard hesitantly poked his head around. "Judge Magister?"
Gabranth's head turned his way, and the guard cleared his throat nervously. "An urgent message, Your Honor."
The prisoner's eyes did not move as the Judge Magister turned and exited the interrogation chamber. He offered no resistance when the guards returned to pull him to his feet and escorted him back through the several layers of security and into his cell.
Basch recognized the soldier at once, though for the purpose of his mission the man was not dressed in the familiar armor of the Archadian Guard. Leading him away from the others and clear of the cell block, Gabranth turned, intent to hear the news. "You have word on Meret Denali's whereabouts?"
The soldier stared into the helmed visage of his commander as if afraid of the message he carried. "Your Honor…Meret Denali is dead, and Kasan Ranel has vanished."
Had Kasan Ranel struggled with Meret Denali over the conspiracy and conflict that had resulted in the wounding of Haleine Ranel?
Had Meret Denali died at his hand?
Had the artist fled?
Where was he now?
These questions Basch asked himself, briskly walking a path through the Imperial gardens. He could feel the spray coming off the beautiful waterfall. With a strangely soothing roar it poured itself over the vine covered overhang to circulate through the crystal clear pools below. The environment was a careful balance of motion and constancy, of strength and restraint.
The morning had dawned beautifully, the last traces of heaven's tears dried in the wakening shimmer of light. False promise of softness and ease. Basch could feel the storm brewing behind cover of the smiling sky.
Gabranth removed the helm, holding it beneath one arm while the other hand absentmindedly attempted to manage his short blonde tresses into something akin to order.
He could see Larsa seated there, studiously pouring over what Basch knew must be his arguments for the Old Archades project. How much older he seemed than his years just now, weighed by the cloak of responsibility about his young shoulders…
"My Lord."
The young Emperor at once raised his eyes from the words before him to meet the concerned expression of his guardian. Well enough he had learned the moods of Basch fon Ronsenburg to recognize the import in his tone, and to read the tension in his long stride.
"Gabranth?" He was careful still here. Guards on patrol too had ears.
"I must speak with you at once. Larsa -"
"Your Grace! The Senate requests your presence for an emergency session!"
Larsa's eyes shot to Basch's face and saw the shared alarm there.
The young leader nodded to the guard who had brought to them the news and stood immediately, gathering his notes from the granite top desk. "Of course. "
To his guardian he said quietly, "Gabranth…?"
His thoughts had no need of being finished. The Judge Magister at his side restored the helm and spoke with quiet assurance, giving comfort and strength despite the concern he himself felt. "I am with you, Larsa. Come what may."
As Gabranth sheltered Larsa Solidor, Emperor of Archadia, from harassment upon entering the Senatorial chamber, one of the minor Judges fell in line behind. Gabranth knew him as a heralded pilot during the war years, a feared enemy of the Resistance…
How many strikes had he made against their encampments?
How many Dalmascan dead was he responsible for?
Basch put the thought away.
Oran was a loyal son of Archadia. He had served Gabranth well since his promotion to Judge at the end of the war.
The Senate floor was buzzing when Larsa made his entrance and then became suddenly silent as the young leader took his place. The eyes of his rivals were lit with excitement. They were pleased. The news could not be good for Larsa's cause.
Basch moved to follow Larsa, meaning to stand in his shadow to keep close watch.
The minor Judge stepped into his peripheral vision, calling his attention away.
Gabranth stepped back, and Judge Oran came to his side, holding his hand out in a gesture of apology. Gabranth's return signed the apology away.
"Judge Magister. My men are yet patrolling the skies."
Gabranth nodded, his concentration split between the Judge and their young Emperor.
"I took a hover off the airship to warn you. I see I am too late."
Basch gave Oran his full attention. "Explain." His voice, Gabranth's voice, was gruff.
The Judge thought nothing of his commander's manner. Always the men had counted Gabranth as dangerous and aloof. "Your Honor, Dalmasca is shutting down her borders-by force."
Gabranth was at once behind Larsa, dipping to whisper in his ear. Larsa's face turned upward, eyes widened with shock. The thrill in the atmosphere of the Senate swelled at the frozen expression on the young leader's face. But Larsa set his jaw and raised his chin, eyes hardening within his paled face.
Basch felt a tremble of pain in his own spirit as Larsa stepped bravely forward. The young one would bear the malicious pleasure of this arrogant body who seemed, in his estimation, content to care for their own power above the good of their nation.
"…And here we find a problem. Archadia stands, arms open wide, ready to give above what is due, and our friends greet us with sword in hand."
The Senator's face was arrogant, and Larsa's was increasingly troubled.
"So- our dear friend in Dalmasca breaks the terms of our agreement, blocks our shipments, leaves our traders standing with spoiled goods at their borders! My lord, how can we think to address such things as the issue of orphans and Old Archades when this new threat is upon us?"
The Senator feigned veneration for the young leader whom he addressed, but there was contempt in every part of his tone and gesture.
"This is an insult of the purest kind!" Another Senator spoke angrily, and a murmur of agreement arose from his colleagues.
"Dalmasca talks of peace, but this is not an act of peace!" A clatter rose as hands pounded upon the heavy wooden railing that wound its way along the tiers of the Senatorial chamber.
Even the few Senators who had heretofore shown a willingness to work with their young leader now look to him with eyes of doubt and distrust.
Basch felt his chest tighten as the anger escalated, and his eyes moved to Larsa who stood, a small figure amid so many imposing. And still the young voice was strong.
"Honored Ladies and Gentlemen of the Senate, let us exact the truth before we too rashly speak. Archadia's sovereignty and security is now, as it will always be, my first and foremost priority. To that end, I will meet with her Highness, Queen Ashelia in order to resolve this matter forthwith." His young voice was firm. "We will not sacrifice our state-nor abandon our friends."
The hallway leading away from the Senatorial chamber seemed miles long as Larsa walked with the Judge Magister at his side. The echo of armored boots and dress shoes rose with unusual loudness in their silence, reverberating off arched ceilings.
"One hour. Judicial Chambers. Alert Zargabaath." Gabranth's voice was a low growl as he passed by the lingering Judge, and Oran nodded and slipped quietly away, disappearing into the throng of Senators, their droning complaints like the hissing of a pit of snakes to Basch's ears.
The memory of the Senate's attack and the swift convergence of the Magistry was fresh in Basch's mind as he sat across from the young Emperor, their airship cutting a path through the blue sky.
With the minor Judges at his disposal, Judge Magister Zargabaath would oversee until the Emperor's return.
Basch frowned, remembering the officer's words as Zargabaath had held him back, waiting as Judge Oran and two others of his rank hastened to follow the directive of their commanders.
"I was informed of the death of one Meret Denali. One wonders…if he so determined to die, might he have chosen a certain amount of subtlety? Such a conspicuous demise hardly seems appropriate in such a delicate time. …Do you not agree, Gabranth?" Zargabaath had spoken mildly, and yet, in the moment he turned toward the Gabranth, Basch saw these circumstances and his own part through the filter of the veteran's somber eyes.
Basch felt his chest tighten, now as then, and still the same he kept silent.
"I will not believe Queen Ashelia would so easily turn from friendship…" Larsa spoke softly to his guardian, worry, disappointment, and frustration on his face.
Truly the same notion stung Basch.
Why had she not sent for him to sort out any misunderstanding before resorting to such strong tactics? What of their bond? Surely she knew he would give her whatever explanation she might seek…
Why did she not seek out a private meeting with Larsa if there was any worry between their lands?
Did she not remember all that Larsa too had lost?
Why did he feel there was something more…
"I take upon myself the full responsibility for this affair, my Lord."
"This is in no way your blame!" Larsa was emphatic as he leaned across the marble table between them. He added more softly. "The situation must be counted a misunderstanding. Together we will see it made right."
Basch watched as the young eyes, saddened and wistful, turned to look past the clouds and into the indefinite distance, as if seeing both the past and the future there.
The Judge Magister followed his glance, knowing that from some high altitude vantage Judge Oran and his men were keeping watch on their flight as well as the border situation...on orders from their commanding officers, avoiding aggression...for now.
"It is no easy thing…escaping history's shroud. No matter how we reach, still the shadow clings. And yet…reach we must." Larsa spoke slowly, thoughtfully.
Basch watched the young man continue to stare through the glass, his voice soft and reflective. A gentle wave of affection and understanding moved Basch.
The name of Solidor was a heavy burden in its own right. Every deed that was Larsa's would be set against those of his lofty ancestors.
In Larsa's lifetime, Gramis had led with iron strength and unwavering will, increasing by blood the borders of his land and the influence of his country.
Vayne, unequalled strategist, had learned to speak the language of diplomacy and deceit more fluently than any recent history had known-the wolf in the guise of a lamb.
Under their leadership the world of Ivalice had suffered, but Archadia had drawn a certain kind of dark respect. There were those who did not wish to turn from those days.
Larsa, whose heart so desired to do right, must at every turn be confronted with the decisions of those whose steps he followed. Not every building block could be removed without tearing down what he meant to build. The past was ingrained in the very foundation of the land.
There were scars that would remain. There were truths that would endure.
Larsa did all he could to contend with the past, and yet he would never fully escape…
It carried on in his name, in his face, and every night he must lay his head upon the bed that his father had made.
Already this responsibility aged the boy. Such a weight would either strengthen or break him ere he became a man. …It must not be allowed to break him.
"Look after Larsa, will you?..."
Noah's voice had strained, broken as he fought for words through suffering and weariness. Desperation had brought his eyes to Basch's face, and no pride or pain between them had kept him from entreating for the young one's safe-keep. "…Protect him. I would entrust him to no other's care."
Lonely longing returned, and Basch turned his face to keep the feeling at bay. He must not consider that his brother's demise had left him with the solitude he for so long had claimed but never fully known. Still there were times when, even wearing the garb of Gabranth, Basch found it difficult to believe Noah's strong spirit had left this world. Involuntarily there were moments he woke to find himself looking to the horizon as when he was a boy newly gone from home…the presence of his twin still resonating within his solitary soul. Then they were separated by time and miles, now by eternity.
"Don't let it worry you, Basch. We will settle this, and revisit the matter of our friends in Old Archades when the confusion is past." Larsa could not hide from his friend that he was disheartened, but he was resolved.
Basch watched him with gentle affection. "I do not doubt." Kind-hearted and noble of spirit was this young leader. His brother's words again resounded in his memory. "…Lord Larsa is our last hope."
Basch was resolved. In the battle for hope, Larsa would not lose.
Larsa turned solemn eyes to his guardian, as if the warrior's thoughts were sensed, and gave a smile that showed his sincerest gratitude.
"Yes, Noah… He is a good master," the spirit of brotherhood whispered across the divide.
And more, he is a beloved charge, the guardian's heart ached.
Basch would do all within his power to reconcile this grievance between their countries so that the interruption need be only an insignificant footnote and not the cause of irreparable harm.
He would do this for Larsa and the Empire…for Ashe and Dalmasca…for all who had fought and died…for all who yet lived and hoped across this Ivalice.
"Lord Emperor, Your Honor, we arrive." The soldier appeared to give word, nodded his respects to each, and disappeared as quickly.
Basch suddenly felt a shiver of cold and flash of heat.
This is how he would return to Dalmasca and into the presence the Queen.
Not as Basch fon Ronsenburg, Captain of Dalmasca, but as Gabranth, Judge Magister of Archadia.
Not only this, he returned to argue the Empire's case before the one he'd protected against the same. And he would do so wearing the face of the Kingslayer.
Basch looked to Larsa, who pressed his armored hand, giving and taking reassurance.
The guardian steeled his resolve. Larsa needed him, now more than ever in his days as Gabranth.
Basch would give all that he had to give in this cause.
The gentle bump signaled the pilot's expert landing. It was time.
Daylight entered. The escort guard lined the exit as their leader and commander passed.
The racing beat of Basch's heart drowned out all else as it thumped out the tune…
…Basch fon Ronsenburg returns…
She rested her body on the uneven earth, covering them both with the threadbare blanket she had stolen for him, cradling him close in her arms. He would be safe there…
Kasan awakened to the damp darkness of cave walls and clay floors, with the caressing touch of fingers upon his skin. His eyes did their best to adjust to the darkness.
In the strange glow that fell over his shoulder he could just make out a small reptilian creature scurrying across the rock, stopping to flick its tongue and blink its eyes before darting into a tiny crevice and disappearing from view.
He could see a trickle of water running down the wall, staining the rock in its path a darker shade than before.
His eyes blurred, the rocky surface of the floor pained his injured body, and he groaned. "Wh-"
"Shh…" Dwen leaned over his shoulder. Her fingertips seemed to be emitting radiance.
His mind could not comprehend…Where was he? How had he come to be here? Why was Dwen with him? Had not she taken her leave just before… "Gabranth!"
Her voice was soft but stern. "Quiet, Kasan."
"Hm?" Her touch seemed both to burn and freeze. It calmed him and caused him to shudder… Sharpened his mind and stole his thoughts…
Dwen was leaning over him, her violet eyes bright like a sparkling gem, but tumultuous with conflicted emotion. "Heed me, Kasan! You must be silent…. Don't let them know you are getting stronger. Don't let them know you are even awake!"
"Okay." The word was just a breath, and Kasan closed his swimming eyes. This must be a dream. And whatever meaning the vision had for him, it could wait. He was too tired...
Dwen watched him resign to oblivion. One hand at a time, she intently ran her fingers over his, as she had his back, spending time on each seared place. Then she carefully covered him with a thin blanket and furtively made her way from the cavern.
The guard that she had blindsided in order to gain access to Kasan lay bound and unconscious in the next darkened hole. She considered loosing his bonds and slipping away without giving him an opportunity to identify his assailant.
It would not go well for the soldier if he was discovered in that state.
Dwen could not spare the pity.
Her thought was only for what use this soldier might prove to her.
She crouched beside him, he was not much beyond a boy really, and patted his cheek until his dark eyes blinked in startled realization and then widened in fear.
"Yes, you know what will happen if they find that you have failed." She warned him softly. "So do as I ask, and perhaps you and yours may yet live."