Author's Note:


Music for the Chapter. All available on YouTube. Go and search the EXACT phrases, then click on the first link.

Section One: Finntroll - Gryning Ur

Section Two AND Section Three: Requiem for a dream

Section Four: Insomnium- Nocturne

Section Five: Dimmu borgir werry the fallen Arises

Section Six: Close Your Eyes - Album Buffy Love Theme


( C A L A M I T Y-of the-S E R E N E )

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Where the Mist Burns Strongest


Ashe was not happy when Ayon, Voli, and their servants led her and Larsa to a well-hidden and desolate castle in the Feywood. The castle was quite large, and at first Ashe was astonished that she and her allies had not seen it when they had traveled through the mist-filled lands six years ago. The castle was forged into the side of a grand mountain, chiseled out from the very rock of the mountain, and the dense mist gave it a heavy cloak of concealment. This castle, Ashe knew, was very old. It had been there for thousands of years.

Voli entered the hard, metal doors of the castle first, and Ashe and Larsa were escorted in quickly behind him. The grand entry way was cold, gray, and empty, seeming to be void of all life and color. Ashe shivered as she came to a stop inside, already feeling a bit creeped out by the building's haunting interior.

Voli turned quickly once they were inside, and instantly approached Ashe. She froze, completely petrified with fear. Without warning, Voli stretched his arms out at her. His hands, which were covered in thin, black gloves, reached for her stomach.

She pulled away quickly, slapping roughly at his outstretched hands. His gloves- how odd!- felt almost like tar, and stuck briefly to her flesh when she slapped him.

"Welcome to your new home," Ayon said loudly once he entered. "You will not be leaving for quite some time."

To this, Larsa and Ashe turned sharply in order to look at him, and he smiled widely in their direction. Larsa frowned. "How long?"

Ayon shrugged dramatically. "It is up to you, young Larsa. When you decide to join us, and give your life to my Lord Master, then you shall be free to come and go as you please." His blackened eyes flickered onto Ashe. "But you, my dearest love. You shall be here whether you wish to give up your life or not."

Ashe fought back a shiver. "And why is that?"

"You thought having an heir would save your kingdom," Ayon spoke bluntly. "Yet having a child only gives us more than we had ever hoped for. You see, lady love, your child will be--"

"Enough," Voli hissed out, instantly silencing the overexcited Ayon. From beneath the hood of his black cape, his eyes glowed angrily. "It isss not time for that yet."

Ayon's became immediately monotoned and obedient. "Forgive me, Master."

The dark demon ignored his apology. "Take them to the dungeon."

"Dungeon?" Larsa spoke sarcastically. "And here I was hoping for a plush room with a view."

Yet Larsa's quip went unnoticed, and in less than a minute he and Ashe were being escorted through the dark castle and down towards what Ashe assumed were the dungeons.

Dungeons. Her whole body crawled at the word. Basch spent two full years in a dungeon, and he was never quite the same. He is stronger than me, does this mean that when I escape I will be a shell of what I am now?

That is, if I am fortunate enough to escape.

The royal pair was shoved forcefully into the same dungeon cell, and Ashe was thankful for the small favor that they were together. Yet the cell was dark; the only light was from the flickering torches in the hallway. The cell door was slammed shut behind them, and the bolt latched into place. With a sigh, Ashe gazed out at her prison: one thin mattress rested in the corner of the stone room, two wiry blankets, and a bucket to be used for bladder and bowel purposes. There was a noticeable leak of water from the ceiling in the center of the room, and it created a small puddle of murky water on the already dirty and moldy stone floor.

"Gods," Ashe whispered out, repulsed and horrified by her new living quarters. They expect me to live in these conditions while pregnant?

Larsa slowly shuffled his way over to inspect the mattress and blankets. He bent down before them, touching each item gently with his fingertips. With a disgusted sigh, he stood and turned to look at Ashe, who was still frozen near the doorway.

"They are damp," he told her.

How could things have gone so bad so quickly? "Oh." She wasn't exactly listening to him.

Larsa quickly pulled the damp yet stiff blankets into his arms and made his way to the door. The door had a small viewing hole near the top for their captor's to look in at them. Quickly, Larsa took one of the blankets and tied it to the bars that went vertically down the viewing hole. Ashe watched him curiously.

"There is a small, dry breeze coming from the hall," Larsa explained as he tied it securely. "Hopefully, it will help dry the blanket enough for us to use."

"I suppose." It does not matter- I will still die in here.

Larsa heard the defeat in her voice and turned to look at her. "Lady Ashe, do not tell me that you have given up."

"What more choice do I have?" Ashe questioned, her voice wavering. She could feel the tears filling up behind her eyes. Do not cry. Crying will not help the situation.

Larsa's face filled with remorse when he saw her fighting back her tears. Letting the other blanket fall from his hands and to the floor, he crossed the small amount of space over to Ashe. Tenderly and without hesitation, he placed his long arms around her shoulders. The comfort he offered her would have seemed strange and foreign in any other situation, yet when they had nothing but each other, his arms around her meant the world to her. Rigidly, Ashe buried her face into his shoulder and stiffened back a fearful cry.

"What do they want with my child?" she mumbled into his shoulder. Sacrifice? Murder? Some terrible curse? To threaten me further?

"I do not know," Larsa replied softly, stroking her back with his hands, being careful not to aggravate the wound on his palm.

She pulled away from him and placed her cool, trembling hands onto her burning cheeks. "I always thought that my first pregnancy would be a wonderful event. As a girl, I pictured laying in my bed and being waited on hand and foot, with a plate of food balancing on my belly." She smiled bitterly. "And now I must spend the time in a moldy dungeon!"

His face was emotionless. "We will escape."

"No, we won't," Ashe knew, her pessimism thriving through her voice. "We are locked away in a hidden castle. Nobody shall ever find us."

"There is no sense of feeling hopeless yet," he said smoothly. "We have only just come here. Have hope, Lady Ashe."

Hope... Hope? When Rasler and my father died, and I lost claim to the throne, even then I still maintained a shard of hope. Yet now I feel that to hope is to be moronic.

Yet without hope, I may as well lie down and die now. And I cannot- I will not.

"You are right," Ashe agreed with a sigh and nod.

She moved to the back corner of the smelly little room, where she plopped down onto the mattress. Larsa was right: it was damp. Yet at the moment, she could have cared less. Tenderly, she traced the thin line of the cut down her arm with her fingertips, and began to think of all the ways she could pay Ayon back for the pain he had caused her.


A quick visit to Dalmasca had given Basch a great clue to a potential destruction of Voli. The palace had obviously been ripped apart by Voli and his men, for their were bodies scattered everywhere. There was no doubt in Basch's mind that Larsa and Ashe had been physically harmed, but he forced the negative thoughts from his mind and began his search.

He was looking for the books that Ashe had shown him over two months ago: the books that discussed Voli. He found them, hidden quite well, in Ashe's bedroom. Dropping down to the floor, he placed the books onto his lap and began to thumb through them.

With every dark there is a light, Basch understood. Voli was created to destroy. Surely there was a counter created to battle his evil?

Basch paused, coming across the horrific images Ashe had shown him before: Voli making the foreign Queen Pfaneous his demon slave from thousands of years ago. He shivered as he took another glance at the pictures. This soulless Queen could be Ashe, he thought, eying the Queen as she first begged for her life, and then became a tyrant who murdered even her own people. I will not let this happen to her.

Disgusted by the bloody, violent images, Basch flipped past several pages, and hit the gold mine. Chapter XXVII of the book- Warrior of Light: the Goddess Astarte. Basch quickly skimmed over the lengthy passage:

She, the great and mighty goddess Astarte, born only to destroy the Dark Lord Voli. When the Dark Lord appeared during times of great peace on Ivalice, She would appear as well and banish him back to his hellish realm. Yet during the last rising of the Dark Lord, there was a great battle between them, and he managed to isolate Her into seclusion for all eternity, bound by powerful magicks. Here, She cannot fulfill her purpose and defeat Voli when he returns to Ivalice, but can only offer Her wisdom and aid to those who seek Her knowledge. To those seeking her wisdom: Seek thee the cavern where the mist burns strongest.

Basch tossed the book aside. He had no time to read the rest: he knew all the information he needed. 'Seek thee the cavern where the mist burns strongest.' That would be the Feywood, and it must be near Voli's domain. Perhaps he keeps Astarte close to him in order to keep a watchful eye on her and any visitors she may have. It is dangerous, but I must go to her and seek aid.

Standing, Basch moved quickly from Ashe's bedroom and out into the empty hallway. There was no time to check to see if there was anybody left alive in the castle; Ashe and Larsa's life depended on his swiftness.


As Vaan and Penelo quickly packed up their small, dingy camp at the Phon Coast, Vaan couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. He realized that it was rather greedy and selfish of him to feel disappointed, considering the fact that Basch was marching to what Vaan assumed was his death and Ashe and Larsa were captured (and presumably injured), but he just couldn't help it. It was Hume nature for the mind to seek pleasure and avoid pain, and Vaan greatly understood that he probably would soon be in a world of hurt.

He had spent the last month in pure, uninterrupted bliss. He had felt as though he was making good progress with winning Penelo back to his side. The two of them had returned to their normal, childish selves: Running around, playing in the waters, chasing each other down the beach. Not once did Vaan try to kiss her or proclaim his undying love. If Penelo had indeed given her heart to Larsa- which, I gotta remember, she never said she did- than he would respect her decision, and simply remain her friend.

"Vaan," Penelo suddenly called out, breaking Vaan from his serious thoughts. "Come on, we really have to hurry."

"Yeah," Vaan responded, shoving some Potions into his storage bag. "But Penelo, I still feel like this is suicide, us marching into battle like this. I mean, we don't even have a plan."

She frowned, standing up tall after she finished packing her belongings. "But we can't let Basch run to Voli's lair all alone. Besides, if we stay here, we're dead anyways. They'll find us here."

She makes a good point. "Alright then, yeah! Let's go. At least, if I die, I'll know I died bravely."

Penelo grinned at him cheerfully, but he could clearly see the fear in her eyes. "That's the spirit! Okay, you all set?"

"Yeah."

"Then, let's go," she finished, pulling up her pack and swinging it over her back.

Yet the voice from behind them made them both freeze. "And where do you think you're going?"

Nervously, Vaan spun around, prepared for battle. The face he gazed into was not one of an enemy, but rather an old, pirating friend.

"Balthier," Penelo gasped out, clearly shocked to see him. "What are you doing here?"


The cavern was easier to find than Basch thought. It was half-buried behind dying trees, and the entrance was large enough to fit a grown man inside. Yet Basch had found the secluded cave so easily that he wondered how he had never seen it before. Shrugging, he decided it was nothing more than good luck.

The ceiling of the cave was low, and Basch had to bend slightly as he walked through the tight, winding, natural stone corridor. Rounding a jagged corner, he quickly came across the cave's sole room. It was fairly large, and was bathed brightly in the light from rows of torches that lined the rocky walls. The ground was paved into a smooth, cobblestone floor. Basch slowly raised his eyes from the floor and up to the back of the room. Before him was a small platform. There, sitting on an exquisite throne, was the most beautiful woman Basch had ever seen in his entire life.

Her fiery red hair tumbled down to her waist in careless waves. Two emerald eyes that seemed to glow with knowledge and pleasure shone brightly against her creamy, unblemished white skin. She had a wonderfully voluptuous body, and her dark green gown hugged her curves perfectly. Basch paused, almost stunned by her most enchanting beauty, and nearly forgot why he had come there to begin with.

"You are Basch," the woman stated correctly, her voice soothing and rich with power. She sat up straight in her velvet red throne and rested her arms peacefully on the armrests. "I am Astarte, the Warrior Goddess of Light. I have been waiting for you."

Basch remembered himself quickly. He wasn't there to be making eyes at this beautiful enchantress; he was there to receive valuable information. He took a step towards her. "Than you know why I am here."

"Indeed," the Goddess said with a slow nod.

Raising a pale hand that was littered with various jewels, she beckoned him with a long finger to approach her. Basch did as she commanded, and stood before her platform and throne. She looked as though she expected him to bow before her, but he did not. She was an ancient goddess, long forgotten by the Hume's of today. He did not worship her, and therefore would not bow before her.

"It is possible to defeat the Dark Lord Voli," Astarte began to explain to him in her rich, throaty voice. "But you must do exactly as I command."

He met her eyes, and felt the haunting power behind them. "Tell me what to do."

She stood in a sleek yet haunting manner, and her eyes refused to leave him. Slowly, she moved toward him, and her walk was so smooth that at first Basch wondered if she was floating.

"In ages past I was chosen to destroy him," she said effortlessly. "Yet now I cannot leave from this prison."

"You wish me to free you?" Basch questioned.

She shook her head. "I will give you the only weapon that can defeat him: a dagger, forged by the Gods, meant only for him."

As if it had come from thin air, Astarte removed the dagger from behind her back and pushed it out, her movements fluid, towards him. Gratefully, Basch accepted it with both hands. Indeed, it looked as though it had been created by the Gods. The handle of the dagger was made of pure gold, decorated with ornate stones and jewels. The smooth, shimmering steel that made up the blade had words inscribed into it, but Basch could not understand their meaning.

"One touch by this blade, and he shall fall," Astarte promised him, her eyes lighting up with pleasure. "After he is gone, return to me, and deliver back the blade. I shall keep it safe until the next time Voli rises."

And I pray that he returns thousands of years from now, Basch thought. He slipped the blade into his backless boot, concealing it from the eyes of others.

"I thank you," Basch told her, finally breaking their mesmerizing gaze.

Astarte chose not to say anything, but dipped her head down in acknowledgment. She kept her head down, and Basch decided it was time to go. As he moved out from the room, he cast one last glance back at the gorgeous woman, and saw that her head was still down. With a deep breath, he moved back into the low, jagged corridor.

Do not worry, Ashe, I'm coming.


It had taken him nearly two hours to find Voli's lair, and surprisingly, Basch found that the exterior of the mountainside castle was unguarded. It spooked him quite a bit to see that Voli thought himself so powerful that he didn't need to station any men outside his walls.

There is nothing to fear, Basch reminded himself with a hard swallow. You have the dagger that shall end this terrible nightmare and destroy Voli.

Yet he was unconvinced. Something had seemed off about Astarte; something had seemed very haunting. He tried to tell himself that it was the goddess powers that had made him feel ill at ease, but he couldn't shake his bad feeling. There is nothing I can do about it now.

Bravely, he marched into the castle with his sword raised in case of an immediate (and expected) battle. Yet the bleak and dark entryway was all but deserted of both people and objects. Puzzled, Basch lowered his blade to his side.

Am I in the wrong castle?

And then he saw him: Voli, with his back to Basch, had come out of a room near the left hallway and was crossing the entryway, heading to the right. The devilish monster had not yet seen Basch, and so Basch took the opportunity to sneak up onto him from behind.

The entire situation seemed far too easy: No guards, Voli conveniently in the entry hall, Voli unsuspecting and vulnerable. However, Basch's heart was pumping a mile a minute, and he took no time to stop and think about the oddness of the situation. Ashe was in danger, and that was all he cared about.

Bending down, he slid the dagger from his boot and gripped it tightly in his hands. Then, speedily yet stealthily, Basch swooped up behind Voli.

In a flash, Basch raised the sharp dagger high above his head, and then slammed it down into Voli's back. The blade stuck in up to its hilt, and instantly Voli released a surprised and pain-filled inhuman shriek. The evil man stumbled forward, his hands reaching wildly for the blade in his back. Basch jumped back, his eyes wide as he watched the spectacle before him. Voli managed to wrap his black gloved hands around the blade, and yanked it roughly from his flesh. A sickening sound of ripping flesh filled the room as the blade was removed, and a thick, black blood began to pour from the hole in his skin. Angrily, Voli tossed the blade aside.

He turned, his red eyes glowing brighter than ever before, and pointed accusingly at Basch. "You... fool..."

Yet as quickly as his anger came, it subsided. Basch watched in horror as Voli's glowing eyes faded until they were gone completely. With his arm still stretched out toward Basch, Voli's head slumped down until it hit his chest. A hollow, breathy noise was exhaled from Voli, and then the terrible war-demon pitched over, landing face first onto the cold floor. He didn't move again.

That seemed far too easy.

Basch stared disbelievingly at the cloaked body for a long moment, his whole body trembling with anticipation from the kill. He half expected Voli to rise up and strike him down, but the body did not move or even twitch. Carefully, Basch moved to Voli's side and nudged him roughly with his foot. No response.

To ensure that he was indeed dead, Basch retrieved the dagger that Voli had pulled from his back and tossed aside. He glanced back at Voli's body, and suddenly felt a strange sort of rage brew up inside of him. There, laying on the floor before him, was the creature who had placed a plague onto Dalmasca and killed thousands. Here was the creature who had essentially murdered Al-Cid and Ayon, who had been part of Fran's killing, and who tortured Ashe and Larsa. Something inside Basch snapped, and he wanted to make Voli bleed. Kneeling beside Voli's body, Basch raised his dagger again, and then slammed the blade down.

Die, you fucking bastard. Stay dead. Die, die.

Two, three, four strikes, and still Voli did not stir. Five, six, seven slashes of the dagger. Black, tar like blood splashed onto Basch's hands and clothes. It took Basch a minute to realize that he was doing no good in stabbing at a corpse, and he released an aggravated cry and fell backwards onto his butt. The blade fell from his hands and clattered against the floor.

He was breathing heavily, and his hands were shaking.

There was a scratching noise behind him. Basch instantly scrambled to his feet, taking the dagger up with him. Spinning around to see what had made the noise, he was surprised to see Ayon standing by the hallway, looking relatively calm.

"You," Basch rasped out, still shaking from his strange rush of adrenaline. He pointed the blade unsteadily at Ayon. "I have killed your Master."

Ayon glanced past Basch and to the bloody body on the ground. "So you have."

"Let us finish this."

Ayon looked bored. "There is no need, Judge. He is no longer my Lord. I am no longer under his control."

Basch was surprised. "What does this mean?"

Ayon shrugged and moved back towards the hallway in which he came. "It means you are free to rescue the Queen and Emperor and leave this place."

Something inside of him made him want to hurt Ayon. Yet Basch was raised to be honorable, and the man was offering him a truce. It would be wrong to attack Ayon now, even if he wanted nothing more than to destroy him.

With a sigh, Basch asked: "Where are they?"

Ayon was almost completely out of sight. "Take the corridor to your right. The first door shall take you down stairs to the dungeon. You will find them there."

Basch didn't wait to see if Ayon would say anything else: in a flash, he was moving down the hallway, and quickly entered the first door. The stairs that led down seemed shaky and unsteady, but he didn't hesitate to throw himself down. He wanted to reach Larsa and Ashe as quickly as possible, and then get the hell out of Voli's domain.


The breeze was warm, and as it ruffled through his dark hair and caressed his face, he felt at peace. Opening his eyes, he tilted his head up to look up at the sky. The sun was bright, and he squinted thinly into its awesome light.

"Isn't it supposed to be bad to look directly into the sun?"

Larsa turned his head sharply at the sound of Penelo's teasing voice. She approached him slowly with a small skip in her step, and her hands clasped behind her back. Her face was filled with a cheerful smile, and the smile lit up her face brighter than the sun. Larsa's heart instantly sored when he saw her; the very image of her was enough to make him giddy.

"Where are we?" he asked her, gazing around them at the seemingly endless field.

She shrugged, dropping her hands to her sides. "We're here, and we're together."

"I suppose that's all that truly matters."

Blissfully, Penelo reached out and slipped her hand into his. He closed his hand around hers, feeling surprised by how much daintier her fingers were than his. He felt his lips curl upwards into a happy smile as he looked down into her pretty, innocent face.

"I am dreaming, aren't I?" Larsa understood the sad fact of the situation, though he didn't wish to admit it.

"Perhaps. Does it matter?"

He dipped his face towards hers. "I want to see you."

Carefully, she raised her head up to meet his. Her lips, an inch from his, continued to smile. "Than come find me."

--.----.----.--

There was a loud creaking sound as the bolt to the cell door was unlocked. The sound woke Larsa from his dream so suddenly that he jolted upright from where he was laying, and accidentally slammed his head roughly off the molding wall. Immediately, he groaned and grabbed at his head with his hands.

What a horrid wake up: from a joyful dream about the woman I love to finding myself back in a smelly cave, and now I have a dreadful headache.

He sat in the corner on the wall that housed the door, while Ashe rested on the bed on the opposite side of the room. As the door was pushed open, Larsa's body tensed up. He understood that it would either be Ayon or Voli to pay them a visit, and he suspected that the visit wouldn't include cakes and gifts.

When his own personal Judge walked through the door, Larsa's body tensed even more. Not from fear, however, but from complete and utter shock. How Basch had managed to find them, and make it past Voli and his minions, was beyond Larsa. In fact, Larsa was so dumbfounded by Basch's appearance that he was unable to open his mouth and call out to him. Not that it mattered, for Basch had seen Ashe sleeping fretfully on the damp little mattress. A look of sheer relief crossed over his face. Less than a second after he had entered their dingy cell, Basch threw himself over to Ashe.

The sleeping beauty awoke when she felt him drop to his knees beside her. Her body had the same reaction as Larsa had when he woke: her breath caught frightfully in her throat, and she jerked upright. Yet before she could thrash about and hit her head against the wall as Larsa had, Basch managed to pull her tightly and peacefully into his arms. She relaxed quickly, her eyes wide, and gazed up into his face.

"B-Basch?"

In response, Basch clutched her tighter in his arms and covered her face with gentle kisses. Her lips, her nose, her eyes, her chin- nothing was safe. Larsa tried to look away from their emotional reunion, but he couldn't pry his eyes away. He had known Ashe and Basch were lovers, but knowing and seeing were two completely different things. The love that he saw pass between them in that minute made his own heart ache angrily in his chest. Finally, he turned his gaze away and looked to the open door, half expecting to see his Penelo bounce into the room.

But Penelo did not come into the cell.

Penelo did not come with Basch to rescue them.

He knew he should be happy that Penelo had enough common sense to stay away from the bait Voli had given her, but at the same time, he was a bit hurt that she hadn't cared enough- cared like Basch cared for Ashe- to rescue him.

Finally, Basch broke free from his kisses that he gave to Ashe. He drew back and looked her in the eyes. "We must leave at once... Where is the Emperor?"

"Here," Larsa said blankly, finally finding his voice. He stood slowly, his brain still pounding painfully against his skull.

At once, Basch climbed to his feet in order to greet Larsa. At first, Larsa expected Basch to jump away from Ashe- to pretend as though they weren't together. Instead, Basch kept his arms locked around Ashe and pulled his lover to her feet with him. It seems that Basch is done with pretending.

"Are you unharmed, my Liege?"

Still so formal... "I will be better once we leave this place."

Basch shook himself, as if by seeing Ashe again had rendered his memory blank of where they were. "Yes, of course. I know the way out. Follow me."

Neither Larsa or Ashe dared to question why Basch was so confident that leaving would be easy, nor did they wish to ask why he was covered in black blood. Both were just thankful to rid themselves of the moldy dungeon cell. There would be time for those sorts of questions later.

"Where are we going?" Ashe finally asked.

To this, Basch smiled thinly. "To 'where the mist burns strongest'."


Author's Note:

Hurray for being over 100,000 words, which puts this story at the seventh longest Final Fantasy XII fiction on the net. And hurray for ALMOST 200 reviews, which puts this story in eighth place for number of reviews.

My other XII fiction, Of Blood and Honor (which is a BalthierxAshe fic), still reigns Number One when it comes to number of reviews (298) for the XII category. Yay!

Thanks to all my loyal readers. You're all quite lovely. :)

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On the next episode of Calamity of the Serene: Larsa, Ashe, and Basch return to Astarte, and an old prophecy comes true. (The following chapter contains graphic violence; do not read if you dislike such images)