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Brothers in Arms

A spear, cracking.

A dragon, flying.

A temple, burning.

A father, summoning.

A man, dying.

So many thoughts. So many dreams. Or, rather, one. The same one. Again and again. Each night he shut his eyes the images closed as waters over his head. He drowned in them as surely as one might drown in the Baron Sea. A lesser man might have gone mad.

Cecil Harvey swept his white-gold hair behind an ear. He'd had no peace since the dreams commenced haunting him. How many months now...He found he could not recall. It was the same story: the paladin tentatively fell asleep, the dreadful vision materialized, he'd scream, awaken Rosa and send their son into a fit of ungodly shrieking.

"I was thinking," Rosa spoke as she approached with their son in her arms. "That we might be better served by going to see the Elder at Mysidia. Perhaps he could find some explanation for your...dreams."

The white wizard knew better than to contest his concerns, now. They'd had that argument already. Truthfully, Rosa realized the futility of her efforts. Nothing would sway the paladin. In the dream, the Mountain of Ordeals sprang to his sight last night and he'd felt drawn to it. Not opting to wait, Cecil fired up Enterprise's engines and set off for the mountain.

Now they stood aboard her deck, waiting for the cliffs to loom over the horizon. Cecil grimaced. "No, the Mountain of Ordeals is what I saw in my...vision. The closer we come to the mountain the closer I feel to an answer. "

Baby Owen stirred so Rosa whispered softly to sooth him. As the paladin contemplated the wholeness of his world—his kingdom, his wife, his child, his happiness—silence reigned, cut only by the slash of the ship's propellers. He couldn't explain the feeling, though Rosa had often asked. It was like some potent emotion: fear, love, anger...

An unsatisfactory assessment. The paladin had struggled long and hard to define it, exploring the depths of his dream. Part of him longed to give up, for fear of what he might find. Was he like a moth to a flame, tantalized by the lights, aware that as he dear nearer he also came closer to his own destruction?

"Cecil!" Cid appeared on deck, the rising sun flashing on his helmet. A fatherly hand dropped on the paladin's shoulder. "I hope ye finds what yer looking for."

Cecil chuckled. "I'm not even sure what I'm looking for."

"Well, whatever it is, we're here..."

And so they were. Mists partially concealed the towering spire of the mountain. She gleamed like quicksilver, her ledges like battlements of a fortress strong. Pillars of the purest marble stood tall upon her apex, as guardians to the white temple that shone as a thousand mirrors. To the left extended a decrepit bridge and beyond that, a long figure stood, gold hair fluttering and navy dragon-scale shimmering in the sun.

"Kain..." Cecil whispered.

Ever since a black-ribbon bound letter appeared at the palace gates—Kain's apology for failing to attend their wedding—the paladin feared he'd never see his childhood friend again. Did he wonder at suicide? Certainly not. Kain held too much pride to end his life so shamefully. But monsters still roamed the land, and in his quest to prove himself, some wayward beast might have felled the dragoon.

"Kain!" he called out, leaning over the railing.

The dragoon slammed the butt of his spear into the hard-packed snow. A rope trailed from the weapon's end, flailing in the wintry wind. "Cecil, Rosa, Cid. So good to see you again. It's been some time, hasn't it? Two, three years...?"

"Five and a half," Rosa held up little Owen. "This is our son, Owen. We named him after your grandfather."

Kain appeared touched by the gesture. "He would be honored. Tell me, what brings you to my neck of the...mountains?"

Straight to the point, like his spear, thought Cecil. He'd anticipated some resistance from the dragoon. Kain would probably resent the paladin stepping onto his turf, taking what little he had left. Still, the paladin found himself unable to turn back, unable to ignore the summons. And, if Cecil were honest with himself, unable to relinquish the friendship he'd had for almost twenty years.

"I've...hear of some...disturbance. In the best interests of the kingdom of Baron I'm going to...investigate...The trail leads here and I..."

Kain cut him off. "You've always been a miserable liar, Cecil. That's not why you've come. If it were so, you'd have sent guards or envoys or whatever they call them now. There's another reason. State it."

Never had the dragoon been one to dally with pleasantries. That made Cecil bristle. He'd long been accustomed to Kain's curt manner, but his cold tone angered the paladin. What...did the childhood memories mean nothing to him anymore? Did Cecil mean nothing? His blue-crystal eyes flashing, Baron's king climbed up the railing to ensure his voice carried. "We will talk, Kain. It's been too long. I don't understand your self-imposed exile. Don't you see—"

Failing to shed a single thought on the delicate balance he held, fury swept Cecil off his element—just as the wind swept him off his feet.

Like a sword, fear pierced Cecil's chest. He was falling so fast, thoughts tumbled in his mind. The thought of Rosa. Never seeing her sweet face. Their son. Never to see him grow up. Cid. Parom and Palom. Edge. Rydia. Kain...

And, suddenly, there was Kain. The dragoon wrapped an arm around his falling friend and the other launched his spear. Its steel tip struck the rockface of the mountain, imbedding in tight. The rope connected to it, and Kain, went taut, ceasing their descent and holding them aloft.

Cecil felt sick, his face pale as death. "Kain...Kain, I..."

"Later," the dragon said as he climbed the rope, Cecil in tow. "Hold on tight. I've not had to do this in some time. The rope'll hold, but the weather is unpredictable. I'd rather not die on these mountains."

Doing as bid, the paladin clutched Kain like his life depended on it—which, obviously, it did. Enterprise held her position. Wise, indeed, was Cid. Should they come near, the mere pressure of her approach might send both plunging to their deaths. Rosa and the engineer leaned on the railing, both worried.

"Need any help?" Cid called down.

"Just keep her steady!" Kain answered, his voice raw from the wind. "No sudden movements. I've done this about a hundred times but I'd would not like to fall the one hundred and first time."

Though there could be no mirth to be found in that statement, Cecil laughed, more out of nerves than anything else.

Fortunately, they reached a ledge steady enough to support the duo. As he hit the ground, Cecil crumpled to his knees. Kain unhooked his belt, leaving the rope, and the spear attached to it, dangling in the air. The whole incident had lasted less than fifteen minutes yet the paladin could swear that hours had passed.

"Are you alright?" Kain hurried over as he noticed the ashen features of his friend. "Are you hurt?" Kain mothered him so much that Cecil felt compelled to wave him away.

"I'm fine. A little dizzy, that's all. It'll pass." Gazing up into his friend's shadowed face Cecil smiled weakly. "I'm impressed. When did you learn to do that?"

"Oh, what, that?" Kain sniffed disdainfully. "You spend a few months in the mountains and it'll come naturally." A frown creased his brow. "So...why did you really come, Cecil?"

The king's mouth opened to answer then shut almost immediately. How to explain these bizarre dreams? Fortunately for him, the shadow of Enterprise engulfed them. She descended slowly, coming to a stop a few feet away. The two, paladin and dragoon, approached the edge, the former especially mindful of the drop.

"Rosa, please take Owen home. I'll be fine with Kain."

She looked most unhappy. "Very well. Be careful."

That made Kain guffaw. "I'll keep an eye on him."

"When should I bring the ship around?" Cid asked.

"Tomorrow morning." Cecil slid a sidelong glance at the dragoon. Kain didn't blink. "There's so much to discuss. Please ensure that the kingdom runs as usual. Don't let the dwarves...and don't forget to let King Edge know...the Council is to come..."

Kain loitered around the ledge, patiently waiting for Cecil to dispense with the royal business. Certainly no jealously there. The dragoon seemed bored by the proceedings. Sometimes, Cecil envied Kain for his freedom. Though the paladin owned much, his friend was exactly as his surname—Highwind. A wind that swept high in the sky, like the liberty of the birds.

Even after Enterprise soared into the clouds to vanish utterly, Cecil continued to avert his gaze, pretending to be interested in the shimmering lakes far below. That was more comfortable than facing the friend he'd not seen in over five years. At long last, his breath hitching, Baron's king half-turned to his brother-in-arms.

"Kain, I...I want—"

The rest of his words vanished as Kain embraced the paladin in a brotherly hug. Cecil's eyes widened, relieved. At first he'd feared that the dragoon would be infuriated at his intrusion. Not doubt Kain still intended to send him packing, but at least the king had a minor window of opportunity in which to plow ahead with both the friendship revival and solving the mystery.

They broke apart. Kain muttered, "Let's get out of the wind." With a strong arm he guided Cecil around the treacherous territory. The two transversed the rocky incline without too much difficulty. As they ascended, Cecil's mind wandered. Memories swam to the surface for the paladin. The memory of his encounter with Milton, the second surprise assault, his meeting with his father, his anointment to paladinhood and the struggle against his dark half. Long had it been since those trials, yet the mountain's presence brought them into stark relief.

And, were that not enough, the premonitions intensified tenfold.

As they moved they spoke little, conversing only the necessities. Cecil longed to shatter that shroud, yet it encased the two in ice so thick only dragon's breath could melt it. Kain smiled, coldly, the king mused, as he gestured for Cecil to proceed onto the apex of the mountain. The wind slashed like Edge's shirekens but the paladin hid any indication of discomfort. Certainly Kain exhibited no such weakness.

"We can shelter in my hut for the night. I have some dried meat for—"

"Enough." Cecil lost all patience and pretense. "I've not come to talk about shelter, or dinner, or anything else as mundane as that."

Kain pushed up his visor. "How about Edge's failed romances? I've heard a tale or two that'll have even you laughing." Seeing the annoyance written across his friend's face, the dragoon sighed. "I know what you mean to say. Save it, Cecil. I have resolved on this course of action. My task here is not yet complete. I sense an evil spirit in the air..."

"Evil?" Cecil's hand slipped to his sword, Excalibur. The other reached to touch the shield strapped to his back. "That's not what I sense. It's benevolent, wise, kind-hearted..." Even as the words left his lips, Cecil felt the hollowness of them. Why had he naturally assumed the vision to be of a boon omen? Because of his father's image? What of the blade's destruction, the dying man, the burning temple?

Kain smiled, bemused. "Ah, so you've had the same dream. That's why you've come." He shook his head, rueful. "My apologies, Cecil. And here I'd thought you'd bring up that old nonsense about 'going home'."

"Well...there is that little matter we need to discuss..."

Suddenly, Kain's hand sprang up. Annoyed, determined to see his speech to the end, the paladin opened his mouth to proceed but Kain's glare shut it. It took a full minute before Cecil realized the dragoon's gesture was not mere dismissal. His own ears began to pick up the sound, like distant thunder, coming nearer...

"What is that?" Cecil mouthed. Then it struck him as lightning to a tree.

An avalanche!

The next series of actions he performed came systematically; as if a natural reflex. Cecil hurled his shield directly at his friend then threw himself to the far right. Hopefully, the shield's momentum would knock Kain out of harm's way. That didn't seem like a possibility. Certainly, the paladin himself wasn't spared.

The cascade of snow struck Cecil like a wave, blasting the air from his lungs. It tossed him easily a few dozen feet. Just as in the paladin's dream, the wave towered over him, engulfed and smothered him. Cecil struggled with the white blanket of death. At first, anyway. It became so easy to fall underneath the spell of sleep.

He closed his eyes.

He slept.