A Rose Among the Ashes

Chapter 28: The Crossroads

Hilda awoke to a gray dawn. Her sleep had been restless and filled with dreams, and she could vaguely recall seeing her father's face, calling out to her, in the darkness of her slumber. Throwing off the silken sheets, the princess moved to one of several arched windows, within her chamber. She had convinced the slave, Liluye, who had been appointed as her servant, to uncover them, so the captive Fynnian could, now, spend the dull stretch, of the endless and uneventful days, staring out onto a strange land while wishing for home.

Leaning against the stone, window sill, her ocean-blue gaze took in the remaining expanse of the castle, followed by the vast wall, towering in the distance, that divided the imperial palace from the enigmatic, capital city. The morning sun was shrouded by an overcast of gray clouds, casting a shadow over all of Palamecia.

Hilda had, now, spent nearly a month as a prisoner within these dreary walls, and she could only guess as to how the wild rose rebellion and her people were faring. During that time, her wounds had healed, and she was beginning to feel like her old self, again.

In order to cope with the fear and anxiety of the unknown and inevitable, she busied herself, daily, with learning as much about the Palamecian empire as was allowed, from the few people she came into contact with, but mostly, it was Liluye, who shared all of the knowledge she could about her native land. Hilda had even learned several phrases in Palamecian, which helped, greatly, in communicating with those, who did not understand a word of the common tongue, but what she desired, above all, was a book. Any scrap of literature would do, even a child's tome. She just wanted something to study and learn to read, for it was becoming clear to the princess, that knowledge would be her most valuable weapon here, if it were even her fate to survive.

Drawing the attention from her thoughts, a light tap sounded at the chamber door, before Liluye quietly entered, holding a tray of food.

"Good morning, Liluye," Hilda warmly greeted, as Liluye returned the salutation with a small, timid smile. It was clear she was still unused to being treated with kindness and gratitude. The Fynnian princess had started to become quite fond of the slave. It felt as though she was her only friend in this land of enemies.

Setting down the platter upon a nearby table, the slave turned and approached the captive woman with a few sprigs of wild flowers caught in her hand.

"I found these growing on the grounds," Liluye said as she offered them to the princess. Surprised but pleased, Hilda accepted them.

"T-Thank you. They are beautiful," Hilda complimented as she gazed down upon the small flowers, appreciatively. They reminded her of Fynn.

"Is there anything else you would like, my lady," the slave meekly inquired, as the Fynnian princess rested the flowers next to her breakfast. She was unsure of whether to request the desire resting upon her tongue. Was it a prisoner's place to make demands of her captors?

"Do you think you could find something for me to read? Any book will do," Hilda stated as a hesitant expression captured Liluye's face.

"I-I don't know...There are strict rules against slaves entering the palace library. I'm sorry, my lady, but even for you, I do not think they would let me," the slave explained. Disappointed but understanding, the princess nodded, dismissing the notion with a wave of her hand.

"Don't be, Liluye, it is not your fault. I'm fine, really," Hilda reassured as Liluye nodded and bowed before returning to the chamber door.

"I'll return shortly, my lady, I have a few more errands to run," the slave informed before exiting the room.

Sitting at the table before the window, Hilda stared down upon the food presented to her and discovered she could not conjure an appetite. In fact, it had become harder for her to appreciate food, since being brought to Palamecia, for she felt ashamed at having to accept nourishment from the hand of her enemy.

Abandoning the untouched breakfast, the captive princess decided to return to bed. It felt as if only mere moments had passed, before, she caught ear of another knock upon her door.

"Enter," Hilda called out, assuming it was Liluye returning from her errands.

Laying atop her bed, with her forearm blanketed across her eyes, she waited for the slave to say something, anything, but all that greeted her was silence. Feeling oddly uncomfortable, she opened her eyes and sat up from the bed, and it was then she realized it was definitely not Liluye come to visit her.

Dressed in black robes was an intimidating man standing before her. Young and of slender build, his hair was dark brown, near black, and short, and his eyes were an icy, predatory blue. Gold piercings decorated his ears, and his lips were stretched into an eerie grin, as he stared, unblinkingly, at the Fynnian princess. A thin but lengthy ornate and lacquered, wooden box rested in his arms.

"A thousand pardons, Lady Hilda, it seems you were expecting someone else, but, none the less, it is an honor to be in your presence," he greeted with a flamboyant bow. Even though he articulated the common tongue perfectly, with elegance and grace, Hilda felt her skin crawl at the sound of his voice. It was as treacherous and slippery as a snake.

"W-Who are you?" Hilda demanded, feeling quite uneasy in the man's presence, not to mention under-dressed.

"I serve Emperor Mateus and have come on his majesty's behalf. He apologizes for not being able to come personally, but there is much he must see to," the eerie man informed, before the princess's blue gaze drifted down to the article in his hands.

"What does he want?" Hilda inquired in a tone that revealed her apprehension.

"Now, that you have recovered from your grievances, his majesty greatly desires to meet with you and humbly requests that you dine with him, tonight," the man relayed before presenting her with the slender, wooden package.

"A gift, my lady. He requests that you wear it, if you accept his invitation," he explained while setting the box down upon her bed.

"A...gift?" Hilda repeated, surprised and bewildered. It felt as if she were being treated more like a guest than a captive, but the Fynnian princess knew better than to trust this sudden turn of events, after being a, seemingly, forgotten prisoner, for so long.

The man approached her, with his sharp, wolfish eyes sweeping over her from her bare feet back to her face. Hilda felt an overwhelming urge to step away from him, but restrained herself from doing so, as not to seem any weaker than she already appeared.

"There is no need to send a reply, my lady. Someone shall come for you, this evening," he stated before a quiet, feminine voice interrupted them.

"M-My lady...?" the voice inquired, as Hilda, soon, realized it was Liluye returned, with a folded bundle in her arms.

"I shall leave you, now, Lady Hilda. My master shall be anticipating your company. Good day," the strange servant imparted with another bow, before turning to leave.

Liluye's face paled with an expression of fear, as the man approached her, while heading for the exit. She clearly recognized the odd and intimidating, male servant. Pausing aside her, he coldly looked down upon her.

"What is that you are carrying, girl?" he inquired, calmly, while staring down upon the suspicious load in her arms. The mess of covers were old, dust-covered, and moth-eaten.

"M-More blankets for the princess. There has been a chill in the tower, as of late," she responded as he scowled, before suddenly grabbing hold of them.

"These dingy rags? What nonsense!" he commented before yanking them from Liluye's arms, causing a couple of thick tomes to slip free and fall, noisily, to the floor.

Catching sight of the hidden loot, the captive princess felt her heart sink. The slave had stolen into the library on her behalf, even though she knew it was forbidden. Stumbling backward, the female slave stared up at the man in terror, as he gawked at her, shocked, before swiftly returning to his senses.

"Thieving sow! You know the law!" he suddenly cursed, before grabbing Liluye, roughly, by the arm. Hilda could not help but tremble, from the sudden rage in his voice, that only moments ago, seemed so refined and calm.

Holding her still, with a vice-like grip, in one hand, he withdrew, what appeared to be, a long, leather, riding crop from his dark clothing, with the other. Swiftly striking her across the face with it, she screamed in pain, before being thrown to the ground.

With anger and guilt consuming the captive princess, Hilda could no longer stand idly by and watch. Lunging at the cruel servant, she tore the whip from his grasp, before striking him so fiercely with it, she drew blood from his once immaculate cheek.

"Your actions have reminded me that I do not break bread with those who impose cruelty and injustice. You can tell your master he will be dining alone," the Fynnian princess declared in outrage, standing between him and the collapsed Liluye, before shoving the crop back into the man's hands.

Touching his face, he stared down upon his bloody fingertips, in fury.

"You and that little rat will live to regret this," he threatened as Hilda stared, fearlessly, into his icy eyes. She was confidant he would not touch her. Even though she did not like relying upon the unspoken protection from her enemy, she was sure the male servant knew what had happened to the other two, who had tried to inflict harm upon her.

"Get. Out," the princess demanded, lowly, as the man sneered before turning on heel and abandoning the chamber.

Closing and latching the door behind him, Hilda swiftly returned to the collapsed Liluye and helped her to the bed.

"I-I am fine, my lady. I have suffered far worse than this," Liluye commented as the captive princess retrieved a white handkerchief and began to dabble at the blood escaping from the slave's wound.

"You should not have put yourself in such a position," the slave spoke while taking the cloth from the princess's hand.

"You risked dire punishment merely to please me. What kind of princess would I be, if I did not stand up for those I care for?" Hilda inquired while receiving a small smile of gratitude from the young woman.

"Who was that strange man, anyway? It appeared as if you knew him," Hilda questioned as the slave's features seemed to sadden.

"His name is Sijan. We were friends, once. He, too, is a slave," Liluye revealed, as the captive princess appeared shocked that the two had ever been acquainted in a positive way.

"He seems so different from the other slaves," Hilda commented as the female slave nodded in agreement.

"He is, but this has not always been so. Once he was kind, until he was chosen," Liluye stated with a distant expression gracing her youthful features, that were marred by a lifetime of hard labor.

"Chosen?" the Fynnian princess inquired.

"The emperor does not trust many, for this reason, only a mere handful of slaves, out of the countless, are carefully selected to serve him, directly. They say it is the highest honor for a slave, and if you are chosen, the slave must endure months, if not years, of rigorous training, until they lose complete sight of who they once were. They are willing to do anything for his majesty, including taking their own life or the lives of others," Liluye explained, almost whispering, as if she were not suppose to be revealing such things.

"Sijan and I had been through a great deal, together, but when I saw him, again, he was an entirely different person. He could not even remember my name, nor did he care to," the slave spoke.

"He was brainwashed?" Hilda inquired as Liluye shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.

"It does not matter, now, my lady. There is no coming back for Sijan," the slave stated as Hilda rose from the bed and approached the wooden package, still laying upon the quilted surface. Carefully lifting the lid, the princess examined its contents. Reaching inside, she withdrew a delicate, silver necklace, heavy-laden with deep-blue sapphires, the size of grapes. Beneath the jewelry, was an expensive, silk gown, of the same shade as the gems.

"It would be unwise to deny his majesty's wish," Liluye informed as the captive princess returned the necklace to its resting place, before recovering the box.

"Do not worry about what becomes of me, Liluye. I do not fear the likes of him," Hilda commented as fright suddenly gripped the slave's expression, before she grabbed the princess's hand and bowed, in a silent plea.

"Oh, my lady, you should, if not for yourself, for your people. I have witnessed the many terrible things his majesty can do. I know I should not be saying this, but you are good and kind to me. Please be careful not to needlessly anger him," Liluye expressed as Hilda's expression became serious as she gazed into the slave's eyes.

"If not for myself then for my people? If I were to appease him, would he be more inclined to show mercy to them? Is my pride more valuable than the lives of my subjects? What would my father do?" the Fynnian princess thought before deciding upon an answer.

"Very well, I shall go, tonight. It seems I shan't be able to avoid my enemy, any longer, especially within his own home," Hilda declared before her ocean-blue eyes suddenly found the tomes, from earlier, resting upon the floor, forgotten. Retrieving them from the ground, she studied the ornate covers and mysterious symbols.

"Forgive me, my lady, I cannot read, so I just grabbed whatever I could find, before they noticed me. Please forgive me, if it is not what you desired," Liluye spoke as a grateful expression painted the captive princess's face.

"No, these are perfect. Thank you, Liluye. They shall keep me occupied, until tonight," Hilda expressed as the slave smiled, in relief, not noticing the tinge of dread within the captive woman's voice.

...

Creeping, unseen within the shadows, from the king's room, the Lamia Queen arrived at Prince Gordon's chamber. Realizing the door was locked, the demoness whispered an incantation, before simply passing through the stone wall. With a cold and calculating stare, she moved to the bed and spotted the forms of the Kashuanian prince and her duplicate, naked and entwined in each others arms. Gordon was fast asleep, but the Lamia's duplicate, sensing her mistress's presence, opened her eyes and looked up at her.

Knowing her time was up, the duplicate carefully disentangled herself from the prince's arms, before rising from the bed and returning to her original form. The bewitched serving girl wordlessly redressed and exited the chamber, allowing the Lamia Queen to re-disguise herself as Princess Hilda, abandon her robes, and assume her duplicate's place at Gordon's side.

Suddenly waking, the prince slowly opened his green eyes, before smiling as he met Hilda's blue, staring back at him, in the pale light of the approaching dawn.

"I am relieved," he cryptically muttered as the imposter nuzzled against his smooth chest and pressed her lips, lightly, to his neck.

"Why?" she purred as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

"I was afraid it had all been a dream," Gordon replied before gently taking her chin in his fingers and tilting her head up, before capturing her lips in another passionate kiss.

A knock banging upon the chamber door interrupted them, as the couple froze in each others arms, before the Kashuanian prince stood from the bed and hastily redressed. Answering the door, a rebel soldier awaited him, out in the corridor. His face was as pale as a sheet and marred by an expression of distress and sorrow.

"The king is dead," the man blurted, without warning. The words had left his mouth in a stunned and disassociated fashion, as if he, himself, could not believe or process the sudden news.

"W-What? When?!" Gordon demanded before he noticed Hilda had risen and was standing behind him, with the sheets, from his bed, wrapped around her unclad body. Her face was stunned and veiled in disbelief.

"It must have happened some time during the night, after Minwu had retired to his chamber. It appears he died in his sleep. Minwu is requesting both you and Lady Hilda's immediate presence in his majesty's chamber," the soldier explained before turning to bow to the fake princess, who was covering her trembling lips with a hand, as tears streamed down her flushed cheeks.

"My deepest condolences, my lady, and please, pardon my inappropriate intrusion," he spoke before retreating from Gordon's doorway.

After re-closing the door, the fake princess sunk to the floor and began to sob, loudly and hysterically. Falling to his knees beside her, the Kashuanian prince pulled her into his arms and cradled her, attempting to offer some measure of comfort, that he wished he had received, upon learning of his own father's death, some time ago.

"The king...is dead," Gordon repeated, again, in his mind, while continuing to hold his lover, not noticing the malicious grin spread upon her lips, as she trembled.

...

Firion, Maria, and Guy swiftly made their way to the king's chamber. They had been forcefully awoken from their slumbers, with news of the king's sudden death. In disbelief, they approached his room and were granted admittance by the soldiers standing guard.

Advisers and other trusted individuals were crowded around Rayan's bed. Some were weeping, some were enraged, but most simply stood quietly, mourning their beloved leader's passing, but the saddest sight of all, was Princess Hilda laying atop the bed, sobbing over the shrouded corpse of her father. The royal crown had been placed atop his motionless chest.

"How did this happen?" Firion questioned, softly, as the trio approached the white mage, Minwu and Prince Gordon, standing together.

"I found him, not even an hour ago. His majesty has been dead, for some time. He must have passed not long after he summoned the four of you here, to his chamber," the Mysidian revealed.

"It is so sudden. He seemed fine, when we left him," Gordon commented as Minwu nodded and folded his arms. A suspicious and calculating expression possessed his brown eyes.

"His majesty was more than fine. In fact, his condition was better than it had been in months. This outcome should not have happened," the veteran mage commented, as a bewildered expression captured the faces of the four youths.

"What do you mean? I thought you said he died, peacefully, in his sleep," the Kashuanian prince responded, as Minwu's eyes fell upon the imposter princess.

"He did, or so it appears. Lady Hilda was reported not to have been in her chamber, last night. Do you know where she was?" the Mysidian inquired as a blush invaded Gordon's cheeks.

"S-She was...with me...," the prince replied as Firion and Maria's mouths fell open.

"All night? She never left you side, not even for an instant?" the mage questioned as Gordon wordlessly nodded his head. Firion felt almost envious of the Kashuanian.

"It seems his quest for love was a success. Last night must have been some sort of dream or hallucination, after all," the white-haired rebel thought, while remembering his supposed walk with the princess, the night prior, before stealing a glance at the violet-haired archer from his side vision. She was still aggravated that he had failed to keep their date, despite the circumstances.

"I see. Stay vigilant, Prince Gordon, something strange is afoot," Minwu commented as Gordon furrowed his brow.

"What are you saying? Are you accusing Lady Hilda of having something to do with her own father's death?" the prince questioned, angrily.

"You cannot deny she has been behaving strangely, and ever since she returned from her imprisonment, soldiers and villagers have begun to rapidly disappear, never to be seen again," the mage stated as Maria nodded in agreement.

"I, too, have noticed the abnormalities. Since her rescue and even aboard the Dreadnought, she has acted cold and withdrawn. This is the most emotion I have seen her display in quite some time," the female warrior added, as Firion and Guy appeared surprised.

"Princess Hilda a traitor?" Firion thought though he could scarcely begin to believe it.

"She was imprisoned by the empire, for gods' sakes, who knows what they did to her. She still won't talk about it, and on top of that, she has just lost her father. Minwu, you have known her, since she was but a small child. You of all people, should have more faith in her. This conversation is insulting and absurd!" Gordon declared in an angry whisper, before attempting to leave. Catching his arm, Minwu was able to stall him, for moment longer.

"It is because I know her, that I cast these suspicions. You are the wild rose's protection, now. Just stay vigilant and watch her, in our absence, Gordon. That is all I ask, and nothing more," the Mysidian spoke, while earning an exasperated sigh from the prince, before the Kashuanian ripped his limb away from the mage's grasp and made for the grieving princess, to offer his comfort and support.

After paying their final respects to the king, the rebels traveled to the outside of the rebel headquarters with Minwu. Throughout the town, loyal citizens stood in the streets to grieve and pray for the king's soul to reach the golden halls of Aruboth.

"There will be a funeral procession, tonight, but there is no time for us to remain here and grieve. His majesty gave us each our own duties, and we must fulfill them, with all haste. I fear we are at the precipice of something most terrible," the white mage spoke as they approached the town's gate.

"You believe the empire is about to make their next move?" Firion inquired as the Mysidian nodded, silently.

"We must be prepared, when that time comes," Minwu responded before extending his arm out to the white-haired warrior. Accepting, Firion nodded to him, in determination.

"You are returning to Mysidia?" Maria questioned, as her teacher nodded.

"I must unseal the ultimate spell. If there was ever a time to use it, I would think that would be now," the veteran mage replied, as the violet-haired archer became deeply curious about what this ultimate magic could be.

"What is this incantation? Is it really so powerful?" the female rebel inquired as Minwu smiled beneath his mask.

"You will see, soon enough," he responded before turning his brown gaze to the northeastern horizon.

"You three are to travel to Deist, correct? The land of dragons is a longer and more dangerous journey than even Salamand was, and Cid has yet to rebuild his airship. You would do well to go to Paloom and hire a ship, but I hear it is difficult to find a captain willing to sail those treacherous waters. Many ships now rest at the bottom of the ocean, because of the rough seas surrounding Deist," the elder white mage commented.

"Do not worry, we will find one," Maria assured as Minwu perked a dark brow.

"Really? You sound so certain. Perhaps, you have experienced another vision, I am unaware of?" the Mysidian inquired, curiously, as the violet-haired rebel wordlessly smiled. Giving her a knowing look, the elder mage accepted the silent explanation.

"You three have made me very proud. I am sure you will be successful in this new endeavor," Minwu commented, as the group stood upon a crossroad outside of Altair. To the south was the road to a harbor, where a ship waited to take Minwu back to his homeland of Mysidia, and to the east was the path to the port town of Paloom, a haven for honest sailors and untamed pirates, alike.

"Good luck, Minwu," the white-haired rebel spoke as Minwu bowed his head.

"Farewell," the mage responded before the parties separated, each set for their own destinations.

The darkness of the coming night swept through the Palamecian empire, as the golden, flaming orb of a sun fell behind the mountains. Princess Hilda sat before the large mirror of her vanity, flipping through the cryptic pages of one of the tomes Liluye had stolen for her. She was already beginning to recognize the complex patterns of the foreign symbols, written upon the pages, that were yellowed with age, as well as a few words and phrases. Liluye busied herself with brushing out the princess's long, wavy hair, before fashioning it into an elegant braid, as Hilda read, what she could, aloud.

Glancing up from the book to the mirror before her, she grimaced, as her eyes ran over the emperor's gift, the sapphire-blue gown, swathing her body. Even though she could not deny the slight article of clothing was beautiful, it was far more revealing than what she was accustomed to. It left the entirety of her sternum down to her navel exposed, and the long length was split at the sides.

"Is this how Palamecian noblewomen normally dress?" the captive princess inquired, while touching the naked skin of her chest.

"Yes, but do not worry, my lady, you look beautiful. I have not seen someone more so than, when Queen Airu still resided here," Liluye responded as she draped the silver carcanet, heavy with ultramarine gemstones, around Hilda's throat.

"Queen...Airu?" the Fynnian princess questioned, while watching the reflection of the female slave, as she began to thread a set of dangling, sapphire earrings through her ears. Finishing, she retrieved a black, slender brush and one of several ceramic jars, resting upon the vanity.

"She was hailed as the most beautiful woman to ever grace these lands. Originally, she was the princess of a small kingdom on the southern coast, but that land was completely destroyed by war, during a conquest, many years ago. When she was only fourteen, she was brought here to wed Emperor Azariah," Liluye explained as Hilda closed her ocean-blue eyes, before the bristly caress of the brush, painted them. Her lips followed, a deep shade of garnet, that almost appeared black against her smooth, porcelain skin.

"What became of her? Did she die?" the captive princess inquired, out of mere curiosity, before feeling the cool mist of a sweet perfume settle against her flesh.

"No, Emperor Mateus banished her, ten years ago, for acts of treason. I was still a child, then, but I remember her well. If the desert has not claimed her, she could still be alive, even as we speak," the slave responded as Hilda appeared shocked that someone, even as cruel as the Palamecian emperor, would be capable of banishing the person that brought them into this world. It reminded the captive princess of exactly the kind of person she would be forced to deal with, tonight.

"She was brave and noble, but also kind and gentle, like you. I never understood why she betrayed his majesty," Liluye added before a knock suddenly rapped upon the chamber door.

Rising from the vanity, Hilda patiently waited as Liluye answered the expected summons. Bowing, Liluye moved away from the opened entrance, before Hilda's blue eyes widened, as the tall form of a demon stood before her. Memories of the rebel princess's near-rape, aboard the Dreadnought, forced their way into her mind, causing her to draw back from the monstrous creature. Swallowing hard, her body trembled, as the intimidating form approached her, with eyes like blood, and flesh like deathly, pale ash. She had not had an encounter with a demon, since that horrible ordeal, and she had hoped she never would, again.

"Are you ready to depart, my lady?" the demon unexpectedly questioned, in a low and inhuman voice, but he did not, at all, sound threatening or ill-intended. Taken aback, Hilda quietly nodded, after a moment's hesitation, before following the strange, midnight soldier out into the torchlit corridor. Glancing back, once more, to Liluye, the princess gave her a final reassuring smile.

Dressed like some exotic queen, she allowed the soldier to escort her through the winding halls, before they, at last, reached their destination. Pausing with his clawed hand upon the door, the demon briefly looked down upon the rebel leader.

"You would do well to refrain from intransigence. The emperor is a master of cajolery, but that does not mean he is immune to his own game. In fact, it is his extreme avarice that leaves him vulnerable. Allow him to lure you and appease him. Perhaps your situation and that of your kingdom's will improve, but guard your mind, if weak, he will easily decipher your thoughts," the soldier whispered as Hilda's blue eyes widened, clearly surprised an imperial soldier would offer her advice. Why would he do such a thing?

"I-I am your enemy. What does it matter to you?" the captive princess demanded, as he diverted his sanguine eyes.

"It doesn't matter to me. It is merely advice, from one, who would rather see life than death," he responded, simply, before pushing the doors open and leading her through the entrance to the grand, dining hall.

Upon entering, the enigmatic, yet familiar, demon silently bowed to his master, before he turned and abandoned the chamber, as well as the princess. With doors slamming, loudly, behind her, Hilda could not conceal the quite visible flinch, that escaped her, as she found herself standing before a long table. It's surface was polished so perfectly it reflected its surroundings like a mirror. Atop of it, were flickering candelabras, resting in a narrow trail, down the center, and at it's head, was the emperor.

Rising from his seat, he was dressed in elegant, carmine-colored robes. A dark sash accentuated his waist, and his straight hair cascaded down his svelte body in sleek, silver rivers. Several jeweled rings decorated his long-nailed fingers, from which a few bangles hung from the adjoining wrists.

Walking around the table, the male monarch approached his captive, until he stood directly before her. Bravely, Hilda met his cold, amethyst gaze while continuing to carry herself with grace and dignity. She would not allow herself to show fear in his presence, for she knew her demeanor would, ultimately, reflect that of her people's.

"Welcome, Lady Hilda, I am delighted you could join me. As I am sure you would agree, our first meeting was far from ideal," the urbane voice of the emperor eloquently greeted, before taking her hand in his own and bringing it to his lips. Restraining herself from tearing the stolen limb away, the princess clenched her jaw, tightly, and endured the uncomfortable gesture.

"Forgive my forwardness, my lady, but I think I would rather have you for dinner. Free of those filthy rags, your beauty is without measure. I trust you have found pleasure in my gifts," Mateus suddenly commented, with a seducing smile, as Hilda withdrew her hand and responded with a graceful curtsey.

"Yes, thank you for the uncharacteristic kindness and hospitality, my lord. I must be the envy amongst prisoners," the captive princess stated, deciding to play his game of good etiquette, despite, in her mind at least, being the worst of enemies. After everything she and her kingdom had endured, she could not promise she would be able to do as her demon escort suggested, but she would try to, at least, remain civil.

A low chuckle erupted in the male monarch's throat, in response.

"I like to think of you as more of a guest. Come, sit with me," Mateus invited while offering her his arm. Accepting, she allowed him to guide her the short distance to her chair.

Moments passed, as the Fynnian princess stared down upon her food. The feast was luxurious, delectable, and of the highest quality, presented in overabundance upon a multitude of polished, silver dishes. The excessive extravagance caused her to think about her people, in Altair, barely managing to scrape by, due to the war, and the slaves, here in Palamecia, that were fed scraps, like animals. The thoughts washed away any desire to partake of what was offered to her. If her people starved, so would she.

"Is it not to your liking?" Mateus inquired, as Hilda forced a smile and shook her head.

"No, it is exquisite," the princess responded, as her captor retrieved a vibrant-colored piece of fruit, from one of the many dishes, before taking it into his mouth.

"You exhibit such sweetness, my dear, that I find myself taking pleasure in your company. Do not be afraid to ask for what you desire. I shan't deny you anything," the emperor informed before consuming the last of his wine. Wordlessly raising his emptied goblet, a slave emerged from the shadows to fill it, and one Hilda swiftly recognized. With a split welt upon his cheek, the cruel slave, Sijan coldly stared upon her, from his master's side.

"I simply do not have an appetite," the Fynnian princess finally replied, while returning Sijan's expression with a scowl of her own. Noticing his slave's wound, Mateus smiled, in amusement.

"I can see something has riled you. Did my slave maltreat you?" the dark monarch questioned, as Hilda pursed her lips together and tightly clenched her fists from beneath the table. Interpreting her vivid body language and lack of response as confirmation, Mateus shifted his violet eyes, tainted with dark amusement, to the man aside him.

"The lady is upset. Tell me what you have done, slave," the cold ruler ordered as Sijan's piercing, blue eyes widened, momentarily, perhaps in fear of his master's response.

"Nothing that was unwarranted, master," the slave responded causing Hilda to seethe with anger, remembering Liluye's horrible cry of pain.

"You lie! What crime warrants such a brutal reprimand?! You beat a helpless woman for so simple a thing as stealing books," the captive princess fiercely corrected, as Sijan glared at the foreign princess, daringly, before he heard his master's voice, again.

"Is this true?" Mateus inquired, lowly, as the slave's brazened exterior quickly melted away to fear and vulnerability.

"You disappoint me, Sijan. You know better than to be merciful. Thieves are not to be whipped. They are to be hanged, so the other rats can witness what the vulgarity of pilfering is rewarded. Now, it is you, who must be punished, for this error in judgment," the callous monarch declared, while evoking an utterly shocked reaction from the captive princess, who now realized Sijan had actually shown compassion to his old friend, Liluye.

"How could I be so foolish?" Hilda thought while watching the slave fall to his knees and tremble, like a leaf caught in a gale.

"F-Forgive me, master," Sijan pleaded as his master languidly pointed a clawed fingertip in his direction. Even though no spell seemed to visibly conjure, the slave suddenly grabbed his temple and began to scream. Frozen in place, Hilda gaped at the sudden explosion of terror. The loathsome grip of pity took hold of her heart, as she quickly became unable to endure anymore of the horrid wails.

"Are you without conscience?! Stop this!" the female captive demanded, as Mateus sneered with satisfaction, as he observed the slave writhing in agony, before, swiftly and suddenly, the Fynnian princess reached across the table and grabbed the cruel ruler's outstretched limb. The torture ceased, and Sijan fell unconscious, upon the floor.

With violet eyes resting upon the princess's delicate hand, tightly clutching his forearm, a brief silence ensued, before the emperor moved his dangerous gaze to her own. A mixture of anger and sadness painted the woman's expression, as a single tear, she could no longer restrain, slid down her porcelain cheek.

"Never, in all my life, have I known a man more hateful and callous! How can you sit there and cast these judgments and demand punishment for such a crime, when you are the greatest thief of all! You stole my kingdom, my home, and you murdered my people! Everyday, I watch all of these poor, enslaved souls cower and grovel to, what they believe to be, an all powerful emperor, a god even, but all I see is an oppressive and rapacious king of hypocrisy," Hilda shouted, her innermost thoughts pouring out of her, like an unfiltered torrent, before an expression of pure, unbridled rage, that completely eclipsed her own, escaped the ruthless autocrat, accompanied by a fierce, evil aura, that cut through the still atmosphere.

For a split second, the captive princess was certain he would end her life, as he reached for her with a clawed hand. Closing her ocean-blue eyes, Hilda waited for the agonizing pain, that was sure to be the precursor of her death, though to her confusion, she instead felt cool fingers caress her face, wiping away the tear, that sparkled like a jewel, upon her cheek.

"Such bold words flee those lovely lips, my lady, and you were doing so well, too. It wounds me to learn that is how you see me. I greatly desire to change that perception," the despot spoke as the princess slowly opened her eyes.

"How else am I suppose to see you?" Hilda softly questioned, as Mateus stood and offered her his hand, once more. Leading her out onto an adjoining balcony, he sat down upon the stone ledge, before pulling the princess down beside him. Hilda did not like the close proximity, and the fact that his arm was around her back made her tense. Despite being uncomfortable, she could, now, conclude he probably was not going to harm her, for if he was, he would have already done so, when she screamed at him, in a fit of rage.

"I realize that years of violence and loss has, perhaps, darkened my soul, but believe me, when I say, I, too, wish for an end to this war. Permit me to show you how merciful and generous I can be. I believe we could greatly benefit from one another, if given the chance," the male monarch revealed as Hilda turned her gaze up to his. Her expression was, for lack of a better word, flabbergasted.

"You, of all people, want a compromise?" Hilda questioned, while searching the tyrant's violet irises for any clue he was merely toying with her.

"You seem surprised," Mateus commented.

"I am. After Fynn fell, my soldiers attempted, for weeks, to obtain a ceasefire with your armies. You paid us no heed and had them all slaughtered, and now, you wish for common ground? Do you expect me to believe you?" the captive princess inquired.

"I had an entirely different mindset, during that time. I believed the use of force was the only way to realize my ambitions. By meeting you, I have come to the realization that there is a better way to achieve what I want," he responded as Hilda doubted the validity of his words.

"Even if I did believe what you say to be truth, what could someone like you possibly want from me? Do you lust for, yet, another slave to abuse?" the Fynnian princess questioned, as a twitch of a smile took the emperor's lips.

"No, what I want from you is far more complicated," the autocrat spoke, as Hilda waited, intently.

"I desire a peaceful unification of our lands through a bond stronger than what simple treaties and contracts can provide," Mateus explained, as Hilda gasped in disbelief.

"You want to merge our kingdoms? After everything you have done to us, I know you have the power to wipe the rest of us out and simply take my kingdom. Why the sudden call for peace, when you are so close to victory?" the princess inquired.

"There is always a certain satisfaction in a willing surrender, and what is the point of ruling lands that are empty of subjects?" the despot answered.

"My people despise you, and as long as there is that hatred, there will always be rebellion. How do you propose to mend the damage received from all the atrocities you have inflicted upon us?" Hilda demanded.

"Your blood, like mine, is precious. We were both born destined to rule. A union of realms is strongest with a union of its leaders. Bind yourself to me and become the olive branch that unites and brings peace to both of our peoples," Mateus proposed as the woman aside him looked near mortified.

"A-A marriage...to you?!" the princess exclaimed before the male monarch took her chin in his sharp fingers.

"You should not think I am incapable of love. I could give you everything you desire and more. You would have power near equal to mine," he enticed while lightly brushing the fragile skin of his captive's lower lip with his long, thumb nail. In complete shock, the captive princess stared at him, lost in a whirlpool of confusion, before he finally released her and stood.

"I am sure this is a burdensome proposal for you. There is no need to give me an answer at present. Consider, carefully, what I offer you, and what is best for the survival of your kingdom. Both of our nations could pull through this, together, and better than they were, before," Mateus stated before the muddled mire of her mind cleared long enough, for Hilda to find her voice, once more.

"I-If I were to agree, am I allowed conditions of my own?" she questioned as the trace of a smile claimed the emperor's lips.

"You tempt me, my dear...Very well, I shall grant you these conditions on good faith that your answer will be a favorable one. Take as long as you desire, but do not lose sight of the countless that continue to perish in the flames of war," Mateus responded, before vanishing into the darkness of his castle, leaving the captive princess to her tumultuous thoughts. End the war, for the sake of her people, or continue the conflict and bloodshed, for the sake of pride?

...

A moonlit night engulfed the port town of Paloom, as the three rebels searched every pier, street, and alley for a captain and crew willing to sail them to Deist. Glowing red lanterns hung from market shops, as drunken sailors, prostitutes, and pickpockets prowled the silver roads.

"Unbelievable! Is no one brave enough to navigate the Deistian seas?" Firion questioned as the trio of freedom fighters stood upon an empty dock. The salty and cool crashing of sea waves caressed their ears, and the glow of a lighthouse was visible in the distance, shining like a star.

"We have yet to check the pub," Maria suggested as the group turned their tired gazes to the burning lights of the noisy tavern, filled with sloshed boatmen and workers of the skin trade.

"Gods know what kinds of filth we'll find in there, especially at this hour," the snowy-haired warrior commented, before the party set off in the direction of the bar.

Entering the loud, rambunctious, and overcrowded structure, the sounds of inebriated laughter mixed with several tipsy quarrels met the party's senses. The three looked around and questioned any sailor sober enough to speak, and after Firion got ambushed by several, groping prostitutes, Maria dragged him off, followed by a nervous Guy, to a table.

"How are we going to get to Deist? Coming here has turned up absolutely nothing. So much for Minwu's words of wisdom," Firion declared as his red blush began to slowly fade. Feeling defeated, the trio ordered a few drinks, but as they attempted to pay, a sailor approached and threw down a few lose gils upon the wooden table.

The man was tall and bulky in build, and his hair was blond and short, hidden by a blue bandana. He was clothed in a striped shirt and sailor's trousers, and a single earring dangled from his ear. His tan skin was covered in countless scars, while a dark covering obscured one of his eyes, and a sheath-less machete was holstered in his belt.

"T-Thank you, um...," the white-haired rebel imparted as the sailor smiled, widely, revealing several missing teeth.

"Me name's Barric. You lads seem down on yer luck. Word around the tavern is ye are lookin' fer someone to sail ya to Deist," he spoke as the party appeared surprised and hopeful.

"That's right. So far we haven't been able to find anyone," Maria responded as Barric seated himself at the table and helped himself to Guy's untouched ale, not that the large, gentle rebel minded.

"That's a real shame, lass. Most ships don't go that far north. Rough waters out that way, not to mention countless superstitions. Besides, what could three young people, like yerselves, be wantin' in dragon land," the sailor interrogated, as the three freedom fighters glanced at each other.

"O-Oh...um...we're going to visit some old friends," Firion lied as Barric nodded in understanding.

"Well, as fate would 'ave it, I so happen to know a capt'n that is skilled enough to sail those seas," the sailor revealed as the snowy-haired fighter's face lit up like a candle.

"Really? Why didn't you say so? Where is he?" Firion inquired while hastily standing from the table and gazing about the tavern, searching the surrounding intoxicated faces.

"Hold yer chocobos, mate. She's back on the ship. Ain't too fond of crowded places, heh," Barric informed before rising from his chair, as well.

"Come on, I'll take ya all to meet 'er. Perhaps, some arrangement can be made," the sailor invited as Firion started to follow him, before Maria caught his arm.

"Wait, shouldn't we find out more. I mean, look at the people in this place. Can we really trust what this stranger says?" the female archer whispered, as the snowy-haired rebel grasped her hand reassuringly.

"What other choice do we have? It'll be fine," Firion responded as Maria sighed before nodding in agreement.

"Hey, you comin' or what?" Barric questioned from the exit to the pub.

"Yeah," Firion called, in reply, over the rowdy voices of the crowded bar.

Stepping over several passed-out drunks, the three rebels trailed behind the muscled sailor through the moonlit streets, before approaching the vacant docks. Countless ships with their furled, white sails, bobbed atop the dark waters, tethered to the piers, and finally, they approached the vessel belonging to Barric's mysterious captain. It was a large and grand ship, with warm lights burning inside its windows, and carved into the hull were the words, Stele Fugar.

Maria's dark eyes widened, as she caught sight of the familiar name, before she suddenly grabbed Firion's arm.

"That's it! That's the ship I saw in my vision," the rebel seeress urgently whispered, as her male companion smiled at her.

"See, I told you it would be fine," the snowy-haired warrior replied, before Guy drew closer to them.

"Guy have bad feeling," the large youth commented, causing Firion to frown and roll his amber eyes.

"It's just your nerves," the smaller male replied, as they approached the ship. Staring curiously at the tall sailor, Maria strode closer to him.

"E-Excuse me," she suddenly spoke, as Barric glanced over his shoulder.

"What is it, lass?" the sailor answered.

"What does the name of your ship mean? I have never seen the like, before," the violet-haired archer questioned, as Barric perked a thick, blond brow.

"Eh? It's the skipper's native tongue. She's from a small village somewhere in Mysidia, I think. It means Runaway Star," the sailor responded as Maria fell silent.

"Mysidian? It sounds nothing like how Minwu speaks. Must be a rare dialect," the female rebel thought as they began to board the great vessel. Reaching the deck, a couple of shady-looking sailors emerged and pulled up the boarding platform, cutting off any escape. Within seconds, more crew members began to appear from the shadows, surrounding the three rebels. Turning around, Barric stood before them, with his thick arms folded and a malicious gleam in his eyes.

"Sorry I 'ave to do this, mates. I almost feel bad, this time," he commented before snapping his fingers. Outnumbering the party and catching them by surprise, the multitude of thug-like sailors grabbed them from behind and bound their hands, with sturdy rope, before forcing them to their knees.

"What is this?!" Firion demanded before a crew member struck him in the face, drawing blood from his lips.

"Shuddup!" the sailor spat, before footsteps began to climb the stairs from the cabins beneath the deck. Within the darkness of the decent, a match was struck, briefly illuminating a feminine face, before the shadowy figure dipped the flame into a thin pipe, before extinguishing it.

"So, what did you bring me, this time, Barric?" an accented female voice, wild and strong, like an ocean wind, questioned, as the dark silhouette stepped into the brilliant, silver rays of the full moon.

The shadow was a petite, young woman, no older than eighteen, with ethereal violet eyes, that glowed in the lunar light. She was dressed in dark, skin-tight trousers and knee-high, leather boots, with a tall heel. A fluttery maroon colored sash was bound around her pelvis, and a dark, ornate wrap concealed her breasts, leaving her shoulders and abdomen bared. A lengthy necklace dangled between her breasts. It was a pristine, white crystal and oval in shape. A bandana, of the same shade as her sash, covered her head, with several strands of long, lavender-colored hair escaping beneath it. Her ears were decorated with a number of piercings, and a set of twin daggers were sheathed at her side.

"Is that the captain?" Maria thought, feeling as though she had seen her somewhere, before, but, in the end, could not place her.

Approaching them, she drew another hit from her pipe. Pacing before the kneeling rebels, she examined them, before suddenly, coming to a halt in front of Firion. Grabbing him by the jaw, she pulled him to her and exhaled a stream of pale smoke into his face..

"Are you staring at me, pretty boy?" she questioned with an intimidating expression.

"N-No, of course not," the white-haired freedom fighter responded, diverting his eyes, as she smirked and released him.

"Good, I won't have to carve them pretty eyes out," she spoke causing him to gulp, nervously. The female rebel, aside him, frowned, feeling a tinge of jealousy, even though the compliment was definitely more of a threat.

"What a creepy woman," Firion thought while watching her turn her attention back to Barric.

"I'm beginning to wonder how reliable that good eye of yours really is, Barric. Do they look like they have a gil to their names?" the young woman inquired as the large sailor, that lured them onto the ship, shrugged his shoulders.

"The pickings were slim this time 'round. None of the rich fish were bitin'," Barric responded as his captain sighed and leaned back against her ship's rails.

"Oh well, disarm them and empty their pockets. Those mythril weapons will bring in a healthy sum, and I'm sure we'll fetch a good price for them back at the black market slavers. There must still be some profit to be had here," she ordered before her crew members immediately commenced cleaning out everything from their clothing, right down to the scraps of lint.

"Now then, if you three behave, I shan't mistreat you, but if you get on my bad side, you will regret ever having the misfortune of meeting me, are we clear?" the lavender-haired captain questioned, as silence was her confirmation.

"With that out of the way, welcome aboard my ship, the Stele Fugar. My name is Leila, and I'll be your captain for this voyage," she introduced, with a smile and a slight bow, before motioning to her men to escort the rebels below, to the holding cells.

To be continued...