Larsa listened to the senate's disagreement, words flung about like flies in an ill-kept garden. He knew Vayne as self-serving in dissolving the senate and that it was better to keep them for the sake of organization and inclusivity, but at times, Larsa understood the depths to which his brother sunk.
His scepter rested against his chair and he sat straight and poised, though the image of attention was more of a façade than he cared to admit. Most matters they discussed didn't require his authority—they only cared for his seal of approval to win against their competitors.
Larsa toyed with excuses to escape, but they all sounded flimsy even to him and—
The air rippled, though the senate didn't notice until whirling darkness overtook the ceiling and a gap in space ripped open and dropped four people beside him.
Larsa raised an eyebrow as one elder exclaimed offense at the interruption and another breathless wonder.
The only one he recognized was Hope, who barely moved. All four showed the confusion and disorientation that came with release from Bhunivelze's power. The discoloration to their appearance and the display of power all but confirmed it.
A thrill of relief fluttered in his chest. "Call for medics, please," he said, and a few rushed from the room. Larsa joined the party on the ground and cast white magic. They soaked it in.
Hope hauled himself to his knees and drew in mist. Larsa felt the force of it against his shoulders and lost his breath to the power that Hope called to himself. White magic flooded the room and revived the other three enough to consciousness before Hope collapsed again.
Larsa paused. That magic was beyond anything he knew possible in the strongest curaga, especially given the damage left behind by Bhunivelze's influence. It should have taken a fleet to bring just one of these people back.
Larsa assisted the braided man and brought him into a sitting position. "What happened?" Larsa asked. "Do you know what—?"
The man growled and shoved Larsa aside before going for Hope. Larsa scrambled back to his feet, but it didn't matter since the man promptly collapsed and let out a groan of pain.
The youngest beside Hope—a boy with the palest features and dirtied, green robes—whimpered and curled in on himself. Larsa got to work on him next and kept at it until the team of white mages and doctors finally arrived.
The last one, a lady with lush hair and fine clothing, was the first to speak. "We didn't stand a chance."
Larsa paused at her light and husky voice. "What do you mean?"
She didn't look his way and the medics whispered about the strange nature of these wounds. Larsa tried to explain to them before why he was hurt without the appearance of it, but they struggled to understand it then and it was no better now.
The lady said, "Bhunivelze used His vessels. And then discarded them to take over planets. We were only ever a means to an end and couldn't have kept him away from the Eternities."
"Planets." Larsa caught nothing of the sort in his short time with him. "What could he do with planets?"
"More than he could with people. … Oh, what have I done?"
Larsa allowed the medics to wheel away the four in a small caravan of stretchers before he was left alone in the room. The rest of the senate made quick exits when the medical team arrived because they knew better than to waste time worrying about nobodies.
"This comes as no surprise," came Basch's voice from the doorway.
Larsa took his scepter and joined him. "What does?"
"That the vessel of light would choose your company." Basch gestured and one of their scholars, a monk from the mountain ranges, joined them and shut the door.
Larsa said, "We were friends."
"My apologies. Perhaps it is not so obvious because the rule I break is for this very reason. Lord Larsa, I've come from beyond to speak with you on the events of late."
"Beg your—?"
"I am Gabranth. I borrow my brother's body."
"Yes," said the monk with an overlapping man's voice. "And I'm Rasler, slain of Nabudis. The Council of the Dead has formed an alliance with the Cie and Red Gods and now we've dispatched to work with each world affected by Bhunivelze's wretched plan."
Larsa looked up at Basch. "Is it really you?"
"It is." Basch bowed his head. "But we've little time for reunion as—"
"I'm emperor. It is my decision how much time we have."
Basch twitched the slightest smile, but it carried too much hesitance. "Your position suits you, Milord, but I'm afraid the dead and divine wait on no hume. Not even the emperor."
"It seems that's the case in most matters. Does my title mean nothing?"
"Let us put this at rest for now," said Rasler before turning to Larsa. "You've taken in Bhunivelze's discarded vessels as he has instead turned his attention to the worlds themselves. While we've recovered most of those taken, we fear the loss of our world saviors."
"Shards," Gabranth said, "that we could have turned to the Cie gods that battle him. They are all the weaker for it."
"And why come to me?" Larsa asked. "If this waits for no man, what power have we to turn the tides of heavens?"
"Beg your pardon." Another arrived, this one of the senate. "Rather a tricky fellow this was to let me in. Such nauseas minds you employ in your service, young emperor."
"I'm afraid you'll find little different in the others," said Gabranth. "Milord—Your Excellency—this is Tellah, formerly of Gaia IV. A wise mind and asset to our plight."
"Pleasure." Larsa gestured. "But I repeat my question."
"You've taken some of the most valuable vessels," Rasler said. "Ellone holds the power of sorceresses, Palom is one of the strongest mages on his world, as is Arc, and Hope is partially ascended already with his powers of light. We ask that you bring them back to health and return them to their worlds."
"You assumed I wouldn't?"
"We assumed," said Gabranth, "that you would allow them the same freedom that you allow most of your associates. But these ones cannot be allowed to wander."
"Why not?"
"For the same reasons Rasler mentioned," said Tellah. "Valhalla's Rain, can't we speed this up a bit?"
"I'll not be hurried." Larsa moved to stand by the door and the three watched him. "You ask for my help and assume it to be provided. Yet I feel like a pawn to be moved as a piece in a game rather than the most powerful man in all of Ivalice."
Tellah hissed, "If this is about your pride, son, then—"
Basch cut him off, "He speaks of his pride, of course, but he also makes a point of our haste. With Larsa's cooperation, we have more at our fingertips than a watchdog over children."
"We're not here to interfere," Rasler said. "We cannot govern the actions of the Emperor lest we meddle in the course of this world."
"I know I'm not going to break any rules." Tellah folded his arms, though it was hard to take seriously as he used the body of the least attentive member of the senate. "It's only one thing we're asking of this child."
"I'm no more a child than you are a wise man!"
Gabranth struck out a hand and Larsa flinched. "He is a wise man, Excellency, if not a well-mannered one. However, the threat of losing hold on our home galaxy would set the calmest elder on edge. We would do well to remain above such behavior."
"Perhaps," Rasler said, "we should step away for now? I imagine the emperor could do with a rest after this?"
"I have no need of rest. Perhaps instead you would appreciate a break from using these bodies?"
"Leave us," said Gabranth.
The other two looked at each other before doing as told. Larsa let them out and shut the door again before facing Gabranth. "You can speak through another," Larsa said.
"… I can."
"And you haven't done so until now. Why?"
"Because we prefer to keep our focus on worlds which we can help without bias. If I would to influence you in the actions you take to help your world, my prejudice would prevent fair use of my otherworld knowledge."
"Yet you could speak without discussing Ivalice. I might have seen you again after you died."
"That is not the way it works, Lord Larsa."
"And why not?"
"There is much you've yet to understand."
"You say it again! You consider me incapable of understanding the world because I am not as old as you! You assume me ignorant and childish!"
"I would say the same of your father before he died."
"Would you?" Larsa's eyes and nose stung. "Would you really?"
"I would not lie to you, Excellency."
"Which is it, then? Excellency or Lord?"
"My habits betray me. It is for this reason that I cannot visit from beyond."
"Then why did you come?"
Gabranth—Basch, really, but the resemblance was too close—looked away. "We make exceptions in dire circumstances."
"You only visited under dire circumstances?"
"If you wish to see it that way."
"How else would I see it?"
"I could have sent another with my guidance on how to interface with our world and you wouldn't see me now."
"Wouldn't speak to you. What does Basch think of our exchange? Did you receive his consent?"
"I did."
Larsa would ask Basch on the interaction later.
"You doubt me," Gabranth said.
"I doubt all of you."
"What course of action would you recommend, milord?"
"I would speak with your entire council on the matter. I can contribute more than guidance to children."
"Lord—"
"I can gather sufficient vessels for you to borrow and—"
Gabranth put a hand on his shoulder and Larsa stiffened. "Excellency. I hear your brother speaking through you. I cannot disrespect his cunning influence, but I worry for your virtue being lost to his pride and ambition. I do not wish you to take your power for granted or to lose yourself to despair."
"What are you—?"
Gabranth tightened his grip, but it didn't hurt. Larsa felt… grounded with the weight of that gauntlet on his shoulder. "Lord Larsa, I apologize for my absence. Would that I could reverse my death and remain with you for your reign, but I collected new responsibilities on my passing. I belong no more with the living and it does not do to dwell in the past."
"But—"
"You are not forever be separated from us. When the time comes, you will join me in the vaulted halls of our fathers and work for the benefit of all creation. But for this time, you are needed in Archadia. You are needed by your people. And it is you that is needed instead of your father or brethren."
A lump rose to Larsa's throat and he struggled to swallow. Words failed him.
Gabranth also said nothing before releasing him and stepping away. Panic fluttered in Larsa's chest at the thought of losing him and he reached out to grip his cape.
Gabranth took his hand and said, "He's left."
Larsa bit against tears and pulled back. He knew better. He knew better than to expect Gabranth to stay.
… But it hurt anyway.
He woke to the overlapping voices of crystals, whose thrumming presence gave him life. Once more, they gave him no name and he wondered as to how his past could be so convoluted that they couldn't place one commonality to base his reference on. They had no one way to refer to him and he knew no one thread of his past that dominated the rest.
The crystals spoke in the voice of One chosen long before their kind arrived in this galaxy, the voice of One who held similar power to Cosmos. A Princess, gazing over eternity and speaking like One centuries older than She was.
"Warrior of Light." A woman's voice beckoned him, one different from Sarah's. "You're not much younger than the one chosen for our planet it seems."
He thought it odd she'd contact him from another realm—perhaps his formation interfered in another's?
"We hear your confusion and we apologize for our intrusion. But we've tasted the plague drifting toward our world's shores and Hydaelyn insists on neutrality. We'll avoid any meddling of yours and in turn bestow a gift of sorts."
That place laid so far in the distance, it never occurred to him they might disturb it. Even when other adventurers searched, that world stayed stubbornly distant.
"… Onion Knight."
Vision awoken, he blinked barely formed eyes to see the orange-lit cave of the earth crystal. Near Saronia, they reminded him, the new capital of the world. When did he last see a thriving city, much less one dignified enough to bear the title of World Center?
"You call him… 'Onion Knight?'" the girl repeated.
Two men and a woman stood near, postures stiff and expressions wary. He unnerved them.
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," he said once speech reformed in his mind as a familiar concept. His tongue felt foreign in his mouth until something pitched and vibrated enough to cause a ringing in his ears. The distant murmuring of the cave came into focus. The voices of the crystals muted, and he heard again the call of Gaia, awash with distant birdsong and rustling grass.
"I know his voice," Ingus said. "Have we met before?"
"No way!" Luneth said.
He—Onion, he called himself—rolled his eyes to find focus. The texture of the rock below him sharpened and the blurry shapes of his new friends turned clear. "Not in person. But you might have heard my voice as borrowed by the Crystals."
"Why?" Refia asked. The blacksmith girl, taken from Kazus, and signaled the Light of Affection. Under her guarded demeanor, he knew a warmth second to none.
"Because not all crystal warriors are lost to the Great Beyond. The Crystals hold onto the imprint left by their Light and use it to interface with their current Set. It's… probably an odd concept to humans."
"If they zombify us when we die, then yes, I find that distasteful."
"They don't hold onto your bodies. It's more of a blueprint, or the reverse-engineered copy they make of your body. I'm not a person so much as a collage of personalities and common traits found in those chosen by—"
Luneth clapped. "Oh, that's totally zombification! Man, I hope you take me for one of these immortality deals!"
"Let's move on," Ingus said. Onion steadied at his Determination. "We cannot afford to dally."
"Right you are." Onion started walking, though his legs took a moment to find their rhythm. "The sooner we get started, the sooner this ends."
"I don't think that's how it works," Refia said.
"It can be." Onion found his stride and worked out a kink in his neck. "The Crystals don't bring me out often so I apologize if my mannerisms upset you at first. I'll act like a regular person again by the end of the day."
"Are you… immortal?" Refia asked.
"Not quite. I'm not human, but this body is fallible. I can get sick, wounded, or killed just like you. And that makes extra work for the Crystals. They don't get a lot of chances to make soldiers like myself. They need willing souls, you know, and I gave mine up to serve and if I die, then they'll need to find someone to replace me. They only have so many in reserve."
"But you just said they don't zombify—"
"Not in the way you define it, they don't."
"What did I tell you, Refia?"
She ignored Luneth, unaware of his Courage's value. "How long have you worked for them like this?"
"Only a few thousand years. From the last set of light warriors, you know. There's another like me, but he was taken from a different dark cycle."
"There's two of you?"
"So far."
Refia frowned. "I don't like that."
"You don't have to. I felt a unique responsibility, and among the rare miracles that are the Warriors of Light, people like me are even rarer. Special, I guess."
"Hrmph."
"Onion Knight," Ingus said. "Can Arc be re-chosen as a Warrior?"
"That's not quite how it works. Once you're chosen, you're in. Arc is dedicated as a protector of the world and our gods, and thus he will continue to serve until he dies. As he hasn't died, we need but bring him back to this world and he'll reconnect."
"That's it?" Refia asked.
"… Hopefully. This is kind of a first so the Crystals aren't much practiced in reconnecting. There could be side effects."
"What kind of side effects?" Ingus asked.
"Sleeplessness, dizziness, lightheadedness, paranoia, increased bloodlust, death… you know. Minor stuff."
"I wouldn't call those minor," Refia said.
"They are next to what's already happened to him, I imagine."
"How do you know?"
"We just… have a pretty good idea."
"It can't be all that bad," Luneth said. "You're sure he survived, right?"
Refia put a hand on Luneth's shoulder and Onion corrected himself—these four were closer than he thought. Any lack of appreciation Refia might show, she made up for with genuine concern for her companions.
"He's alive," Onion said. "The question is just how much."
Ingus said, "Then let us make haste, lest we lose him."
"Couldn't say it better myself," Luneth said.
"I'm okay with taking it slow," Refia said. "You know, just in getting back to Saronia. Unless Alus has left? Nope, he's still there."
Onion followed his new friends and let the walk revive him. Gaia III was a beautiful sight to see in its modern glory.
