"You will do this. You will do this, sister." He stroked her face with his shaking hand. His eyes lost focus and dimming and then flashed with bright intensity in the next moment, much like a flame about to go out.

"We must bide our time. Remember our father's patience and your own for these long months." She cradled his head in her lap, viewing the smoldering horizon with concern. "If we act unwisely, we will jeopardize all our father died for. We must carry on." Ciel pleaded with her brother for reason, but reason had scattered with the power that had left him.

"I will see our father's murderer bloodied and torn, sister." Tears coated his eyes, and the pulsing light now shimmered as if under glass. "I will see him shamed and begging for mercy!"

"Shhh…" She bent to kiss his brow.

He tried to rise and she gently held him until his raging ceased. "Our father will be remembered, Ciel…" He was faltering now, his body going limp under her hands. His eyes began to close. "We will make them remember, Ciel. Our father's murderer will pay…"

"…with others like her."

The door opened, signaling a return of the physician, and the murmured words ceased.

Kasan watched distantly as the healer checked Haleine's life-signs.

"Kasan"

Kasan turned with blank expression toward Noah, blinked to clear the fog for a moment, and nodded. "Of course."

Noah stood a moment longer, his gaze falling once more upon the pale lady stricken upon the bed.

The door opened, a few short words were offered in a tone gruffer than his norm, and the Emperor's guest left with his assigned security detail.

Kasan stood and turned as the doctor examined Haleine. She was a proud woman and coveted her privacy. Likely she'd be both mortified and incensed to know he was here. But where else could he be?

Kasan leaned against the cool wall and rested his eyes.

"…good for your son to be with you, Inar. Good for you also. You should bring him with you more often." She coughed heavily. The sound of it was painful.

"Oh, I know, Delara. …Here, take a sip… You were always wise and so very often right."

"Only often?" The lady had not altogether lost her sense of humor, but the moment of affectionate laughter between friends was cut short as her wracking cough resumed.

Inar's voice was fraught with melancholy. " If I had come by your sense and strength perhaps I'd have avoided this disgrace."

Eleven year old Kasan reached for the next branch higher and pulled himself away from the window and the hurtful words. He knew his father had brought him today only because his sick friend had asked to meet his son. It stung like a lash to hear his father's shame…as always it did.

Inar had inspected Kasan meticulously before allowing the boy to accompany him on his visit. The elder Ranel rarely ever looked at his son, and the boy had nervously wondered if his father liked what he saw. Did the father notice that the son was starting to grow taller? The hope that he did straightened the boy's back and pulled him to the last measure of his height. Whatever Inar had seen made him shake his head with a regretful sigh. But then the surprising gift of a kite had almost erased the pain caused by the disappointment found in the father's eyes.

"Something to busy yourself with while I visit," his father had said as he placed the colorful kite into his sons hands. "Lady Gabranth is very ill, and you cannot interrupt and be a bother to her. I will introduce you, you will be polite and respectful, and then you will retire to the garden and wait until I call, understand?"

"Yes, sir." Despite the words that ordered distance, Kasan had been overwhelmed at being given the chance to spend the day with his father. Receiving now a gift as well made him impulsively want to throw his arms around his father and claim the love that should be his.

Haleine at that moment walked through the room, her eyes passing by the boy altogether and cutting toward her husband like razors.

Inar stiffened uncomfortably and frowned at the boy who stood with wide, dark eyes before him. "Go on outside and wait."

The door had muffled but not been able to keep inside her anger and his father's deflection.
"…trying to embarrass me?"
"...not my idea to take the boy, Haleine…"

Kasan had heard the bitter fights when his father had taken it upon himself to loan out the home that had been his and Haleine's first before they had moved into the Ranel family home upon the death of Inar's father. Haleine had raged that they could ill afford to be giving out charity when they were losing profit at every turn, but Inar had for once turned a deaf ear. The bitterness and chill had become so thick it was in the air Kasan breathed…

But the kite was beautiful. …And now caught in the top of the single towering tree that occupied the meager garden…

Kasan stretched and reached and tugged gently, trying to dislodge the colorful tail without ripping the body of the kite. Growing, maybe he was, but he was still too short. His arms weren't long enough.

Kasan looked down and felt a touch of fear. He hadn't been this far up before, and still he was not high enough. He looked up and ignored the warning that blared in his mind. He pulled himself to the next branch, stretched to full height, and dared to balance on his tip-toes . That was when his foot slipped and lost purchase on the branch. His right hand managed to catch and hold to the limb, wrenching his shoulder as the bark cut his palm.

"Oh! Hey! Be careful, kid!" An alarmed voice suddenly rang out below.

Kasan looked down, his vision blurring as he dangerously swayed, and vaguely it seemed he recognized the boy as someone who ran errands for his father.

"Hold on!" Kasan heard a clatter and then within moments someone had reached the spot and was trying to ease him down.

"Wait! My kite." Gifts from his father were too infrequent to be casually abandoned. Kasan resisted with every fiber of his being the idea of leaving the unsolicited present from Inar Ranel behind.

"Let's get you down first."

"No, please…" Kasan felt tears choke him. He fought them, not wanting to be a baby in front of the older boy.

"It's okay…Kasan, is it?"

"Uh-huh." The boy was a bit surprised that anyone knew his name.

" I'm Noah. Don't worry; your kite's not going anywhere. Look at that tail, all tangled up there. How did you manage that on a calm day such as this?" The older boy's voice was carefully light. Kasan smiled gratefully and accepted the help, relieved when his feet finally touched ground.

"Why don't we go inside and get you cleaned up? Your arm okay? Your hands are bleeding." Noah frowned as he looked Kasan over.

"I'm okay. Thank you." Kasan was suddenly shy.

Noah smiled and nodded, but he looked unconvinced. "Sure. Look, why don't you go on in the back door? Your father is visiting with my mother in the front of the house. They won't know you came in. I'll join you in a second. We'll get you cleaned up, and keep you out of trouble." Noah winked, and Kasan smiled tentatively, thinking about how angry Haleine would be if she saw him now.

Kasan followed Noah's direction and went on inside to busy himself with rubbing stains from his new clothes. Minutes later Noah walked through the back door, delivering the kite as if the task had been no effort.

As they'd worked at repairing the kite string and Kasan's wounds, the sound of Lady Gabranth's violent cough echoed through the walls. Kasan had seen the grim sadness on the older boy's face, noting the dark circles beneath his eyes and the paleness of his skin.

And soon Inar Ranel's voice had carried from the yard, "Kasan! Kasan! Where is that boy?"

Kasan had left with the kite in hand, his skinned hands and dirt stained clothing refurbished enough that he was not questioned by the father who preferred not to notice.

It was the first time that Noah Gabranth had come to his defense.

"Kasan?"

It took him a moment to place the weak voice calling, but a weight lifted as he saw his step-mother's eyes open and upon him. He crossed to her side and reached for her hand. For a moment, he felt her thinned fingers tighten on his. Then she frowned and pulled her hand away. Her voice shook a little as she scolded him. "Filthy and unkempt, as always."

Kasan sighed and smiled. It seemed Haleine had survived unchanged.

Noah remained silent as he was escorted to the suite Judge Magister Gabranth had allotted for his use. If the soldiers were made curious by the shadowed, hooded figure they led, they did not show it. But then these were Imperial warriors.

He nodded as the heavy doors to his assigned rooms were opened before him. The soldiers withdrew, the doors closed, and Noah drew a deep breath as he removed the cloak that had kept him shielded.

Having denied himself the instinctive desire for sleep in favor of bathing away the blood that stained his skin and the Dalmascan sand irritating his wounds, Noah stood before the mirrored glass and grimly beheld his garish reflection. The hair he'd stained black with the inky secretion taken from glands of a night flyer was tangled and matted and beginning to fade. His beard had grown in more since he'd last applied the substance and was now a strange mix of natural blond, dirt brown, dyed black, and blood-stained red. He was sure if he cared to look closely enough, he'd also find a silver hair or two-or more. The attempted disguise was now more likely to draw attention than to help him remain inconspicuous. On the other hand, he scoffed, it was unlikely that he'd be recognized as Judge Magister Gabranth or mistaken for Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg. And then his focus changed.

The high-polished black marble that lined the room created a reflective surface of its own, allowing him to see Faolyn's mark upon his skin with clarity in the mirror. His brow furrowed as he stared intently at the softly glowing lines, and then he turned to continue his routine.

Kasan's disclosure weighed heavily upon him. Before the Dalmascan throne, he had vowed that Faolyn was no danger to anyone, and he would not hesitate to give his life defending the boy against any who would charge otherwise. Still, with the boy now safely removed from the Dalmascan threat, he could admit that the Queen's questions were valid. He had felt the boy's wild power. The boy was good of heart and did not wish to bring harm. …What if ever he did wish it?

Of more immediate importance to Ivalice, what of the girl Kasan had spoken of? And what of the group she had attached herself to?

The implication given by the girl was that the group acted independently of a particular government. Meret Denali's involvement said nothing one way or another. The man had been a fool and a narcissist. But then there was Dimas. Dimas was a more violent brand of the same type of man. That either man would wish to use the other and barter for a place of power did not surprise. It was wealth, or lack of, that divided them. Where Meret had been blessed with his own coin to invest, Dimas was beholden to Rozarria and his position as General for investment capital. Was Rozarria itself leading this activity as a ruse? It would not be a new tactic, to stir up the people and cause a split that would create opportunity. Both Rozarria and Archadia had used the maneuver to their advantage many times in the past. Distrust and dissent were easy seeds to sow. Light a spark and watch the world burn. As Gabranth, Noah knew something of that.

The bath was filled, and Noah lowered his body into the warmth. He breathed a momentary sigh of relief, letting his head recline against the polished stone as his legs extended. In his weariness came a confession: It had been a long year. Immediately his mind jumped back to the hour of his flight from Landis with his mother. The familiar ache spread, and his fingers reached to his chest to scratch at a wound he could not reach and a pain he could not ease. …An endless year.

"You expect us to believe that the attack on our borders was not the work of Dalmasca?" The Senator threw up his hands in exasperation. Word of the incident had spread from the people and more details had been carried by handsomely rewarded private informers.

"You have my word, Senator. The threat that we face threatens also our ally Dalmasca. In this cause, the Empire has Dalmasca's vow of support. As proof of our strong alliance in this matter, the Dalmascan guard is even now working with our Imperial forces to secure the border. This danger is shared, and Queen Ashelia and I are united in our common goal of rooting out the perpetrators and restoring peace and security to our peoples."

Basch listened as the young Emperor spoke, noting the exceptions Larsa built into his statement. This cause. This matter. This danger. He watched also the Senators' reactions to Larsa's words. There was a conflicted spirit in the room. Despite the argumentative nature of business in the Empire and the sometimes precarious balance of power, the Senators had ample stake in the security of the nation. They might wish to show strength by forcing Dalmasca's hand, but they did not wish to be taken off guard by a new enemy in their desire to punish Dalmasca for its rebellious and costly survival in the recent war.

"We doubt neither the quality of your word, my Emperor, nor your noble purpose." Senator Soleine's smooth tones breached the clatter. Her manner was neither condescending nor insincere, but there was a cautioning glint in her eye and the long fingers of one hand pointed contemplatively toward her bottom lip. "The word of Dalmasca is another thing altogether, my Lord. Your Excellency graciously deigned to journey to Dalmasca to speak with its leader. It might have been helpful toward understanding the Dalmascan position had the Dalmascan Queen felt compelled to show the same concern toward the Empire."

"The solidarity of our nations in this mission is unwavering." This mission. "Dalmasca's Queen remains to pursue our shared interests. However, although Queen Ashelia could not appear before you, she has sent to us a representative of the throne to speak on her behalf." Larsa lifted a hand, and Wulf stepped stiffly forward. "Queen Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca's trusted knight and chosen envoy, Ambassador Wulf Hadriel."

Wulf's face, pale and chilled from the panic of having to face the Senate, flushed scarlet with heat as Larsa praised him with words of honor and trust. His eyes scanned the imposing chamber, unfamiliar faces, and austere garb, and he felt a nauseous wave shake him to the core.

"We have heard that Dalmasca shares the Empire's concerns regarding this new threat. Is this so, Ambassador?"

Wulf cleared his throat. "Yes. Her Majesty wishes those responsible found and dealt with in all haste."
Could Ashe have designed a more cruel punishment for him than to ask him to entreat for favor with those who had destroyed all he loved?

"And is Dalmasca prepared to share the burden as well?"

The carnage played again in his mind, and the faces of the Senators swam in a crimson sea. "Dalmasca understands sacrifice." His chin lifted and the pale chill returned, but he clenched his fists and swallowed the bitterness that swelled in his throat. "Dalmasca stands with the Empire in this cause. She is ready to do what must be done."

For Ashe…for Rasler's Ashe, he would play the part assigned.

"And what of Meret Denali?"

Beneath his heavy armor and the obscurity of helm and cloak, Basch could not suppress the slightest spontaneous flexing of his muscles in reaction to the surprise he felt at the Senator's query. Wulf visibly betrayed being startled. His eyes widened and he flinched. "Meret Denali, Senator?"

"I would caution you not to play coy, Ambassador Hadriel." Senator Soleine interrupted her colleague with a warning tilt of the head toward the Dalmascan spokesman. "Secrets are difficult to keep, and word has come to us of an attack upon one of own citizens perpetrated by your countryman."

"Not my countryman," was his silent gut reaction, but then he was ashamed. As had Rasler, he would take Dalmasca's burdens as his own. "I'm afraid the Senator is better informed than I." His surprise was gone, and a touch of cynicism now laced his hardened tone.

The corners of the Senator's lips lifted softly, but her eyes turned toward a new speaker. "Do I understand you to say that the Dalmascan throne has no knowledge of Meret Denali? That the Dalmascan throne did not petition for his release?"

"I have no such knowledge, but Dalmasca has many citizens in Archadian care. It is certainly the Kingdom's wish to see all swiftly and fairly judged."

Senator Soleine, listening carefully, smiled fleetingly at the choice phrasing. "I am told that Master Denali has met with misfortune."

Almost Wulf scoffed aloud. Misfortune. Yes, that was an apt banner for the Kingslayer to fly under. He remained emotionless and silent, giving only a vacant stare in return to the Senator's study.

"You can surely understand, Ambassador, why we pursue this line of question. It is troubling to hear of this first attack, to then see our peaceful citizens turned away from Dalmascan soil, and then to be brought word of an eruption of violence, resulting in Archadian casualties, upon the border. You can surely see how it must appear."

Larsa stepped forward, fists clenched. Basch moved more closely to the young Emperor, and though he could not interfere, his presence was a calming force. Larsa leveled a gaze at the Senators but held his tongue, letting the painful but necessary process play through.

"Yes." Wulf lifted his chin fiercely. "Yes, I do. But believe me, Senator; Dalmasca has more reason to distrust and more to lose if Emperor Larsa proves false."

For a moment Basch's chest tightened as he wondered if Wulf's temper and tongue would overrule wisdom and duty.

An indignant murmur spread through the chamber. They might question their leader, but it was another thing to have him maligned by a stranger in their court.

Wulf continued. "When Emperor Larsa entered Dalmasca with an escort of Imperial guard and approached the Throne Room with a Judge Magister at his side, my Queen did not deny him. And yet Her Majesty has sent me to stand before you today with only the word of Emperor Larsa that I will be treated as a friend. I trust my Queen's judgment. I place my life in her hands. I bow to her will."

The Senators were unified in silence. Senator Soleine viewed the warrior spokesman thoughtfully. A small, grim smile graced her face.

"Ambassador Wulf." Larsa held out his hand somberly. Wulf nodded respectfully as he pressed the Imperial hand, but he did not bow or lift the fingers to his lips in sign of submission and fealty. His allegiance was owed elsewhere.

Ashe reached without thought to turn the band, the heirloom reminder of the last son of the royal house of Nabradia. There were moments almost each day when the ring was removed and set aside, and yet it always returned. Someday it might leave her hand forever. But the time was not now. Today she yet needed the comfort of a sweet memory.

"Ashelia?"

She turned from the balcony, feeling a flush of warmth. The date of their marriage vows, settled upon between their fathers and the advisors of both kingdoms, was nearing. Their marriage was a contract between Kingdoms, a binding union of their two royal lines. Of the young couple, submission to duty was all that was asked. Love was not expected. And yet tenderness had bloomed. Perhaps indeed because each the other understood…

His eyes in a boyish face had looked down at her with gentle concern. He was full of sincerity, spirit, and determination. His youthful enthusiasm had been tempered by responsibility, and yet he was driven and not cowed by the weight of his place. Still, she felt his uncertainty and hesitation when their eyes met. And within her heart she felt the same.

He watched her silently for a long moment and reached out to brush back a stray lock of her hair. His hand went on to her cheek and slipped down to her lips. And then his eyes blinked as if he had just awakened. His fingers pulled back as if they had touched coals, but it was his fair cheeks that blushed red with warmth. "Forgive me, Ashelia. I do not expect..." He broke off in embarrassment and looked away, distraught.

She felt a wave of understanding and reached out to take his hand, pressing her lips softly against his palm.

He turned her chin upward, looking with question into her eyes. "I do not expect…but…I hope."

A single tear had caressed her cheek, and his fingertips had eased it away. "I understand, Princess."

"Rasler…" The words slipped quietly through her lips as his fingers again made his way there. "Hope. And let us not be lonely."

And if they were lonely, they were lonely together.
Theirs had been a gentle love. A love that comforted each the other's heart against what was missing there. A love that supported and upheld each the other's courage in the face of unyielding duty.

So brief was their time. And it felt still as if she had not given place to fully grieve his passing…
Surely he deserved something more.

Was this why the Occuria had found his visage such an easy vessel for their schemes? Did they know the guilt of love unfulfilled and grief unsatisfied?

…If only she had given him a child to solidify the union of their Kingdoms and carry on his name…

How many had died to protect her brothers, heirs of her father's throne? And yet they had been cut down, one by one even to the last. How many had died to protect the sons of Nabradia, and still Rasler's fall had ended the line. Larsa too was the last of his House. …To be an heir to rule was to be marked for death, and the fields were littered with the bones of those who had fought to protect and fought to bring about the demise of a line. A child would have only been made a target for the Empire and likely would not have survived the war.

It wasn't only fear for her child's future that had made her resist when the subject of an heir had been breached by the advisers of both Kingdoms. She had not been ready. Rasler had understood…had he not?

"Rasler, I…"

"Do not let their words trouble you. They are brazen in their eagerness." He put his arms around her and she let her head rest against his shoulder. "We will have time."

She heard the doubt in his voice though she could not see it in his eyes.

"…We will have time."

A tender, hopeful lie.


"Your Honor…"

Zargabaath did not waver in his step or turn his eyes aside. "Knight Gracien, well you know that personal affections and emotional attachments must not be allowed to interfere with the business of the Empire." The memory of Dame Drace's broken body came to his mind, and he heard his own desperate plea in her defense. Unashamed to entreat for mercy on her behalf, he had yielded to the will of the Law and carried the shame of her sentence to join that found on the mount of Bur-Omisace. Was it not an irony that bonds so difficult to forge in days of conflict were so swiftly by the same brought to an end, severed by the sword?

Dax's lips opened and closed again. His features smoothed, and his eyes hardened as he resolved himself. "Yes, Lord Zargabaath."

Only when Dax had parted from the Judge Magister did Zargabaath's long stride hesitate. Lonnan Pryderi's young, pregnant wife even now sat beside him, holding his hand and urging him through tears and prayers to live. Zargabaath had despaired at playing witness to the tender grief and had, as soon as was seemly, departed the scene. Messengers would come to report any changes in the officer's status.

Gracien would be leading a team to the scene of the incident. Would he find evidence that the young soldier Zargabaath suspected was indeed the cause of this disturbance? It grated Zargabaath's nerves and vexed his patience to think he had not seen the truth, but then the soldier's treachery was not all he had lately missed.

Zargabaath's pace stretched and his chin lifted, the only signs of his annoyance and indignation.

He had become accustomed to the point of numbness to the deceptions at every turn during his days in the service of Lord Gramis and Lord Vayne. Lord Larsa's rule kept its own deceits. No matter. He would not again be taken aback by the trickery of this new day. Despite all, there were certain things that did not change and would not while he was there to see to it. Zargabaath's forehead creased sternly. If the soldier was responsible, by the Law, Aramis Macall would pay.

"There are things a Judge Magister must know." Zecht wiggled his eyebrows conspiratorially. "Isn't that right, Drace?"

Drace glared back at him, but then sighed heavily and put a hand on Noah's elbow. He was surprised by the touch. "The asinine behavior aside, Zecht is correct. There are secrets hidden within these walls, Gabranth, and it is our sacred duty to keep them. Understand?"

"Yes." …No, he didn't. Still, he nodded. It seemed the thing to do, and he was certain the information he was supposed to now understand was soon to be explored. He was right.

"These secrets belonged to our fathers before us."

Not his father.

As Drace spoke solemnly, Zecht walked alongside him, gesturing grandly in time to her words.

"Only the protectors of House Solidor are privy to this knowledge. With our lives, we defend them." Zecht clutched at his chest. "With our discretion we provide them safety." Zecht crept along furtively."We must never betray the trust we are given." Zecht grasped the hilt of his sword and stood to attention.

Distracted, Noah missed his cue and was rewarded with a sound rap to the ribs. "We must not betray the trust-"

"Drace. He gets it." Zecht had tired of playing. He waved off her argument and draped a muscled arm over Noah's shoulders. "Emperor Gramis has given him his trust. That ought to be good enough for you and me." And then he turned to Gabranth with a warning grin. "But it won't be, so don't get any ideas, eh?" Zecht laughed. "Come, Gabranth. Let me show you what the Palace hides beneath her skirts."

Drace knocked Zecht to his knees with a well placed blow and walked past indifferently. Noah grimaced as Zecht stared up at him, eyes tearing. "You're-no-lady-Drace." Zecht gasped and groaned.

"And you'll not be a man unless you learn to keep your tongue behind your teeth." She walked past them to the wall.

Zecht reached out a hand, and Noah grasped it, helping him up. Zecht noted Drace and directed Noah's attention. "You'll want to see this, Gabranth."

Drace moved her hand over the stone and spoke a word foreign to Noah's ears. An emblem, the emblem of House Solidor, appeared. As the seal was removed, a grinding noise filled the air: the sound of gears and bolts and stone shifting. A section of the wall pulled back and opened to a gaping black hole.

"Come." Drace motioned to them and stepped into the void.

Noah gasped, and Zecht laughed. "Well, you heard the vixen. Let's go." Suddenly recovered, he pushed Noah ahead of him and caught him as Noah stumbled down the dark stairwell.

As he walked the path now, it was as if he could hear Drace's voice directed them and Zecht's laughter echoing off the stone. Noah's lips turned to a half-smile. He missed them. Though the words could not change the fate that had taken them, he could say it freely now. It was lonelier here with them gone.
He made his way along the secret routes of the Palace and emerged in a secluded part of the city.
Regret momentarily darkened his brow as he gathered around him the heavy steel gray cloak that Basch had been kind enough to include in his wardrobe. He pulled the hood up to cover his freshly cleansed hair. "Forgive me, Basch, but if you mean to have me confined, you'll have to build a stronger cage."