"Sorry, Cecil." Rydia whispered as she held onto her guardian's shoulders. Though she was small and lightweight, having carried her on his back for a while was taking its toll on Cecil's legs and back.
The dark knight craned his head and replied between breaths, "don't worry. It's not that bad."
"Sir Cecil. Would you have me take over for a while? Give yourself a break?" Edward inquired as they made their way up Mount Hobs. Time was short and they needed to pass over the mountain since the hovercraft was of no further use to them. Fabul was most likely to be hit next and the faster they reached the kingdom, the more time they would have to prepare.
Rydia clenched her hands on the fabric of Cecil's sleeves. She wasn't scared of Edward, but she had grown rather attached to her guardian. And considering what she had gone through, she still felt apprehensive to both the bard and Rosa.
Picking up on Rydia's reluctance, Cecil shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but I think I can go a little further."
Rosa, returning from scouting ahead only a few minutes before, spoke up. "You won't need to worry. There's a campsite up ahead. We'll be able to rest there for a while."
Rydia tightened her grip around Cecil's shoulders as they climbed the stone steps that lead up to the path Rosa indicated. They'd been going this way for a few hours and to say that they were all tired would have been an understatement. The little summoner could tell that Cecil would have gone on, despite his exhaustion. In fact, she felt a little guilty for being the one that slowed them down.
However, she remembered Cecil and Rosa's encouragement to melt the ice that blocked their path. She was afraid of the fire and though she still felt a bit apprehensive of using it in battle, their route to getting to Fabul was much more important.
Rydia reestablished her hold on Cecil's shoulders as they climbed the last step. Tempting as it was to look down and see how high they climbed, Rydia had the sense of mind to keep looking up. The monsters on the mountain were scary enough. She didn't need another thing to be worried about.
That evening, they got a fire started and with the tent established, they were able to make use of what supplies they were able to carry. Once the meal was done, they made plans to continue in the morning. The sooner it came, the better.
Rydia yawned while leaning against Cecil's side and wavering between sleep and consciousness, she could hear the conversation between him and Rosa.
"Looks like she's taken quite a liking to you."
"It appears so, and as strange as it sounds, I'm all she has left."
Rosa paused for a second before asking, "What are you going to do with her once this whole business with the crystals is over?"
Now it was Cecil's turn to pause and his was a bit longer than hers. "I've been thinking about that. But I still don't know what to do."
With a warm smile, Rosa crept on his other side and kissed him on the check. "You know, if you and I are really serious about... you know, then maybe you and I could adopt her?"
"Maybe, but I still feel completely responsible for all she's lost. True, she may get over it now, but what about when she grows up? I mean, she could wake up one day and decide to avenge her mother."
Rydia wanted to protest and say Cecil's fears were unfounded, but she began to wonder if his fears would come true. Would she try and kill him for killing her mother? It was an uncomfortable thought. Somehow, even if it was 'just', killing him for killing another just didn't seem 'right'.
Rosa wrapped her arm around Cecil's shoulder and leaned her head against his. "I wouldn't worry about it. Children know how to forgive much more easily than adults do. And if I don't miss my guess, Rydia's a good girl and she'll grow up to be a fine woman."
Rydia's uncertainty vanished after hearing Rosa's calming sentiment. The child had forgiven Cecil and though it would be a long time before the scars of what happened would completely heal, it wouldn't be any worse. Cecil was not her enemy.
Of that much, she was certain.
...
Rydia must have dozed off while changing for the funeral. Most dreams she had were mostly incoherent, and even if they were of the past, it would be hazy at best. Something was causing her to remember the past in her dreams. It wasn't impossible for someone along the lines of a dream seer was affecting her. Yet, that seemed a little too far fetched, even for the world that they lived in. Yet, she knew that something or someone was doing this to her. At the moment, the dreams would only bring back the past... of happier times.
She looked out the window and sighed. It was either cloudy or rainy whenever a funeral was taking place. Throwing a dark green cloak over her shoulders, she took a minute to smooth out the folds of her dress, which had the same color as the cloak, with black trim.
A knock on the door caught her attention and the Castle's steward, Benjamin, stepped in and bowed, "The rest of the procession is waiting, Lady Drake."
"Coming." She replied tiredly as she threw the hood of her cloak over her head and followed the steward to the main hall. Per the customs of Baron, all members of the procession wore little to no color and were often covered to give no distinction. To the founders of the Baronian nation, all were alike in death.
The main hall, cleared out and rearranged, was filled with the royal family, their children, and friends of the royal family. As one of the friends, she took her place behind Cecil's family. To her right; she could see Gilbert beneath his hood, trying his best not to break down. She reached over, grasped his hand gently, and gave it an encouraging squeeze. He tried his best to smile back, but it was difficult and she couldn't blame him.
The former bard had aged surprisingly well, considering all that he had to endure with the past thirty years. With little to no remaining army, restoring order in the kingdom of Damcyan was chore that took nearly a decade. Even then, rebuilding the social and financial infrastructure nearly drove anyone involved to madness. Yet, the prince had prevailed and his kingdom was beginning to turn the desert into The once vibrant forest it was.
A bell was heard from the highest reaches of the castle and on queue, the pallbearers carried the coffin, made of exquisite Tororian wood, to the cart in the courtyard. Not a word was said as the cart that carried the sleeping queen made its way through the town square and the shadowed entourage followed slowly behind.
With her head bent low, Rydia made sure to keep her distance between herself and the royal family. Passing through the crowds, her sharp ears were catching words she wished she didn't hear.
"Of course, that Mysidian witch comes to the rescue just as the queen dies."
"I'll bet you anything that they held back the cure purposely, but let her go just to make it look like they were sincere."
"Inbred Mysidian pricks. Everyone of them."
Rydia's frown deepened. She knew that Porom and her brother were right behind and if there was any reaction, things could only get worse. Thankfully, it appeared either the twins didn't hear or they didn't fall for the taunt. This was not the time for already strained relations to get any worse. In addition, she and the twins felt bad enough, missing Rosa's end by hours.
And what of that Chronogy pulse? She didn't notice any time passing when they left the building. After the first time, she took a thorough examination of the area and could tell the difference, but there was none the second time. Whoever was doing this knew she was catching on. And considering her limited use and knowledge of chronogy, she was following a fox in a blizzard.
After another fifteen minutes, the funeral procession reached the site designated for the queen. Just a stone's throw away from the westernmost side of the moat, a clear hill with a single large tree stood as a symbol of Baron's longevity.
Nothing was said as the bearers, using strong ropes, slowly lowered the coffin into the pit where Rosa would rest.Rydia whispered a final farewell to her friend as the coffin was finally out of sight. The once vibrant forest it wasIt was so hard to imagine someone that she'd known for so long would just pass away so abruptly.
She shook her head and whispered, "Too young..." Rosa was only fifty-two years old and a grandmother. One of the worst things to think about was Terrance and his two younger siblings had lost their mother. Rydia was all too familiar to that sort of pain.
Scanning the forlorn faces of the friends, she noticed Edward and his wife, Ashe Flondell. The ninja that had at one time seemed so haughty and foolish now was a paragon of dignity to his people. From what the summoner had heard, aside from a political marriage between his and her families, the ninja king had to do everything he could to prove that the infamous tomboy princess was not superior to him. They had figuratively fought each other into marriage.
Rydia was happy that the ninja had finally let go of his desire of the summoner and had still left his heart open enough to accept one that would love him. It was bittersweet to Rydia. Though, a part of her missed his persistence and confident attitude.
When the crowd began to disperse, Rydia kept her eyes locked on Cecil as he stood by the gravestone. Like a statue, he remained motionless as a thunderbolt crashed overhead. The summoner could not help but sympathize with him. She was one of the first to discover that he would be living for a longer time than most. In theory, he could possibly outlive his own grandchildren, thanks to his unique heritage. And therein lay his curse. Maybe Zemus knew Cecil would live long and to curse Rosa like this would make Cecil suffer all the longer.
Soon, the only people who remained were Cecil, herself, Edward, Terrance, and Benjamin. The steward spoke briefly with Terrance before turning his attention to Rydia.
"Lady Drake."
Without turning to his, she whispered back, "Yes?"
"I've spoken with the royal family and they've given their approval for me to inform you of something important."
Rydia turned to the steward with a questioning look, "What is it?"
She accepted a piece of parchment from a pocket in his coat. She held it underneath the hood of her cloak so it wouldn't get soaked from the rain as Benjamin continued.
"In her last will and testament, the Queen has requested that you, Rydia Drake of Mist, be sired the Official Guardian and Executor of the Royal family's house. This position is only offered and no offense shall be taken if you wish to decline. The Queen and King know of your trustworthiness and have understood how much you value your freedom. That is the reason why the choice is offered in the first place."
Rydia's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"
Terrance then stepped up. "Quite serious, Rydia. In the customs of our country, the rulers have always entrusted their houses to those who could never be bought."
Rydia turned and could see that the death of Terrance's mother had affected him as well. Judging by the look on his face, she could tell it was not easy for him either. Yet, knew he had to stand tall or else things could escalate out of control.
Looking back at the parchment, she read through it once more before returning it to Benjamin. She wanted to accept it for Rosa's sake, but at the same time all that was going on made her want to return to the Land of Summoned Monsters. She didn't really care what most people thought of her, but to run away from something like this would not sit well with her conscience.
She struggled with words to give them a definite answer, but to her relief, Terrance caught on and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as Benjamin walked off. "You don't need to answer now, Rydia. We'd rather have you think about this carefully and decided when all this has passed. And speaking of which, I have a favor to ask of you."
She looked up to Cecil's son eagerly, "Anything I can do to help."
Terrance smiled a bit before continuing. "My father's been in a deep melancholy ever since the funeral and with the talks with Mysidia coming up; we've both agreed that it'd be best if he were able to get his mind off of present matters. Give him some time to rest and recover from this."
"Will you be able to handle the talks?"
Terrance nodded. "Yes. The Ambrosius twins and I have talked often before this ordeal and I'm aware of what needs to be done."
Rydia looked from the parchment to Cecil's still form and back to Terrance. "I will take him to Mist. Will a week be enough?"
"Yes. We've been planning to start the talks the day after tomorrow. With any luck, Palom, Porom, and myself will be able to find a way to keep both sides happy."
Rydia smiled weakly and took Terrance's hand. "I know you will. So, when shall we leave?"
"Tonight. We'll have anything you need by then."
She nodded as she heard a rustling from behind. She and Terrance turned to see Cecil falling upon his side, his sobs loud enough for all to hear.
Rydia turned away. She just could not face him after failing to save Rosa.
"He is stretched, on her grave and will lie there forever..." Rydia turned to see Gilbert speak calmly as if he were reciting a poem. "With his hands held in hers, he'd be sure they'd not sever.
"His apple tree, his brightness, tis time they were together for he smells of the earth and is slain by the weather." She recalled seeing him perform as a bard, but in those days, his songs were full of joy and laughter. His tone was base and morose.
"When his family thinks that he's safe in his bed, from night until morning, he is stretched at her head. Calling out to the air with tears both hot and wild; all his grief for the girl that he had loved as a child."
"The priests and the friars, behold him in dread, because he still loves her, his love and she's dead. And would still be her shelter from rain and from storm, for with her in the cold ground, he cannot sleep warm."
She walked behind him as he ended the poem and placed a hand on his shoulder, "You understand, don't you?"
Gilbert nodded, "How could I not? I had known Anna for a while and when she agreed to marry me, I felt like the happiest man in the world. When she was killed to protect me, I felt my heart shatter. I understand all too well."
Rydia could say nothing to that as he walked back to the castle.
...
From his room in the westernmost section of the castle, Anthony watched the funeral group ebb back to the castle and snorted. Rosa's death only made his job all the easier. With the King of Baron slowly slipping into lethargy, it made his two guests quite pleased.
"So, gentlemen. Have you brought the materials?"
A black wizard kept his frown on his face as he nodded, stood up, and pulled out the components of a Mysidian Firebomb. Recent advancements in the mixture of materials had made the unstable concoction all the more powerful when the bomb went off. Henceforth, it was a favorite amongst the Mysidian Separatists.
"Thank you, sir. I assure you, it will be put to good use."
The black mage's companion, a high-ranking red wizard from the house of Mayers, matched his friend's scowl. "Just as long as you keep to your end of the deal, Lord Baigan. It is bad enough we've been a puppet of Baron for as long as we have, it disgusts me to think of having to work with the son of a traitor."
Anthony feigned a hurt look, "You wound me, sir. And regardless that I have Mysidia's best interests at heart, you treat me harshly."
"Had you actually Mydian's best interests, you'd have this mess done with long ago. Our noble house wishes to ensure its future without Baron looming over our shoulder."
With a smooth smile, he bowed and placed the components in a compartment where they would not be found. "I assure you, the 'Imposter Paladin' will die and the noble houses of Mysidia will be blameless."
The red wizard soon matched Anthony's smirk. "It is a pity. The Separatists actually believe themselves heroes, fighting for their freedom of Mysidia. The fools. Now that our business is concluded, we'll take our leave."
Anthony bowed once more and the two Mysidians left quietly. The less for prying ears to listen in on, the better. He turned to the shadows, "Benjamin, did you record all of that?"
"Yes, sir."
...
The evening had chilled Rydia's skin as she fastened the dual saddle on the back of a chocobo. Once done, she blew into her hands and rubbed her palms together to keep the warmth there. The dark green traveler's jacket, black boots, and trousers would keep her warm enough, but Mist would be even colder and she did not want to take any chances with Cecil along.
Hearing the door open, she turned to see Cecil and Terrance walk in quietly. They both looked tired and ragged to her, despite their royal attire. She gave a sad smile to the king and his son, bowed and whispered, "Your ride is ready, sire."
She lifted her head for an instant to see Cecil smile weakly.
"Thank you, Rydia."
Taking his hand, she and Terrance guided the almost lethargic king onto the saddle. She figured using a black chocobo would be fastest and would draw the least amount of attention. They both concluded that the fewer people that knew about this temporary retreat, the better. Especially with the Noble Houses of Mysidia nearby and their poorly disguised disdain of Cecil.
She turned to the prince and bowed, feeling like a vassal. "I've been able to get enough food for the trip and the mayor of Mist has agreed to keep Cecil's presence there a secret."
"I appreciate all that you've done for us, Lady Drake."
She smiled wryly, "You know me better than that, Terrance. Your father didn't gain the trust of the Summoners, Leviathan, and Bahamut by being a politician. We owe him more than we can ever hope to repay."
"I can only hope of being worthy of the trust he's placed in me."
She took his shoulder gently, "You will, Terrance. And if you'd like, I can help. I would imagine that the Executor of the Royal House is not excluded from interaction with the family."
She grew relieved when he started to smile, "Of course. I'll let Benjamin know tonight."
She nodded and hopped onto the front saddle of the chocobo and prodded it forward and into the night. Back in Mysidia, Porom sat by the open window of her office and stared at the stars in a stupor. Only one thing continued to repeat itself over in her mind.
...
An hour... sixty wretched minutes!
Her hands hurt as she balled her hands into fists, but couldn't work the rage to hit anything. If only the devil's road had not been destroyed, they could have made it.
"Hey, Sis."
Palom looked just as ragged as she did, though a noticeable stench of alcohol hung about him and his face was soaked.
"You've been drinking? Palom, why? I thought you were over that."
"I am," he did slightly wavering, "but figuring that my screwing up royally cost us a friend's life, I thought, why not?"
She was ready to berate him when the words died in her throat. Instead, her face grew sympathetic; she stood up and held her brother in a rare embrace. "It's not your fault, Palom. Rydia and I were delayed. Had we gotten there in time, we could have stopped Rosa's death long enough to administer the cure."
She felt no struggle from her brother as he slowly hugged her back. She stood tall as her brother slowly started to sob on her shoulder and soak her cloak, yet she didn't care. Truth be told, she felt just as guilty as he did. She reached up and patted her brother's head gently as tears of her own welled up in her eyes.
They were so close and yet so far from succeeding. What frustrated her even more was the callous manner in which the Noble Houses expressed their 'sympathies'. She had to hold her brother back when Dacket Mayers gave a condolence that couldn't convince a dupe. Moreover, she was just using Palom to make sure she didn't throttle the man herself.
Placing her brother on a nearby chair, she took the bottle of Silverian brandy, pulled out a pair of glasses from a cabinet, and poured them both half full.
Though groggy, Palom still had the coherence to say, "I thought you didn't drink?"
She nodded. "I don't. But if there ever was a reason not to feel anything, this would be it."
She heard her brother snicker at the comment. She noted, though, that were he sober, he would not find it as funny. With the cap back on, she put the bottle on her desk and handed the shot glass to her brother.
Her brother raised the glass high and slurred, "Rosa Farrel Harvey. You were one helluva woman, and a true friend."
She raised her own glass, "Your love, your dreams, and your hopes; they all were true. You will be missed sorely."
She tapped the rim of her glass with his before downing the strong drink in a single gulp. It didn't surprise her that the taste was as vile as rumor held. Yet, she figured it was meant to be that way, considering the hangover she would suffer the next morning.
...
Through the mists, Rydia sat passively on a chair as the sun crept upon her house from the east. Well, it wasn't her house, per se, but it was still the house she and her mother grew up in.
At her request, the townspeople had left it alone for her own use, since it was one of the few houses untouched by the fires of the false King of Baron. Years after Zemus had been defeated, she had returned to Mist to discover it still as pristine as the day she left it. Though slightly worn from the lack of use, she had maintained it and whenever she came to the surface from the land of the summoned monsters, it was always there.
Like a faithful companion, it had weathered most storms where others would have failed. Everything within had been preserved and would remain that way for as long as she lived.
Standing up from the chair, she stroked one of the pillars that held the overhand in front of the door, letting the memories of her mother return. She allowed a small smile to appear on her lips when she remembered herself, as a five year old, trying to pull the beam out in a fit of pique. Naturally, she failed. She chuckled at how her mother berated her, because she never used a harsh word in her vocabulary.
However, her smile vanished at the recollection of a few things she never knew about her mother. Walking in the door, she slowly paced up to the second floor, into her mother's room and pulled out a book from the shelf and opened it to a particular page she had opened many times before.
'Day of the Winter Solastice, three hundredth and twenty-first year of the Flame;
Damn them! Damn them all to the blackest hell ever conceived! Those wretched mages and Dragoons nearly found me out and ruined everything! Four years of work was lost when the King's Platinum Dragoons found our lair and lay waste to everything. What more, the Red Mage Guild of Mysidia had played us all for fools. We were promised their support to overthrow Baron, but that was never their intention in the first place!
Now, here I am. Stuck in the backwater hamlet I was born in and nearly penniless. Naturally, the king of Baron will be lauded a hero for 'suppressing the malcontents', with the Red Mages happily strengthening their silly political ties.'
With a despondent sigh, Rydia turned the page. She always thought her mother was the benevolent woman she remembered. Yet, the proof of her journals said otherwise. They were also of an account of a failed assassination attempt on the king. Of course, her mother failed and had escaped to Mist somehow. Entries after her return to Mist become few and far in between, until five years passed after she returned. The entries had changed quite dramatically.
'Tenth day of summer, three hundredth and twenty second year of the Soil;
Today marks one year since I was wed to a minstrel by the name of Voltaire. It is also the day where I learned I would be heavy with child. Much has changed since I was banished from Baron and returned here... I am unsure what to think.'
'Last Day of Winter, three hundredth and twenty third year of the Tides;
Woe is I. My husband has fallen ill with the Scarlet Fever and is not long for this world. Worse yet, I feel the date of our child's birth loom closer. Oh, Bahamut; what should I do should our child not have a father? I fear I will be a poor parent should I try to raise her myself.'
'Fourth day of Fall; three hundredth and twenty third year of the Gale;
It has been a month since my dear Voltaire passed away. The townspeople, despite our disagreements in the past, have helped my baby, Rydia, and me in little ways. Ways that would have made things much more difficult had they done nothing. Perhaps... in my younger days... I was wrong?'
'Twentieth day of Summer; three hundredth and twenty-fourth year of the Gale;
Rydia has started to show signs of magical ability at the tender age of four. Which is quite surprising considering that most children don't start learning magic until they're eight. Using a scrying pan, I had hoped to see what sort of future my child had. The flows of magic around my child were most curious. I saw the magic bend and move at her will. It could only mean that I have given birth to a prodigy.'
'Twelfth day of Spring; three hundredth and twenty-fifth year of the Soil;
Already, Rydia has summoned a chocobo. And she's only six years old at that! I've not disclosed this to the rest of the villagers, though I'm still wondering why I chose to keep this a secret.
Sadly, most of the other children chide Rydia about her green hair, saying she's trying to become a Kappa. Silly children... with Rydia's potential, she could become something more than a mere summoner. Something beyond even an Atevi...
Grow my child... grow strong and wise... and may the heavens forgive me for thinking ill of anyone who dares to think differently.'
Closing the book, she put it back on the shelf and wondered silently. What kind of man her father was that enabled such a change in her? What kind of person was her mother in her younger years? She had asked around the town, but most that knew had either died in the fires or had simply forgotten.
Walking down the stairs, she entered the guest room to see the slumbering Cecil. She could tell the previous day had been quite therapeutic for him. Without the mantel of kingship weighing him down, he had a chance to breathe without the pressure of a whole kingdom to constrict him. Slowly, but surely, he was recovering.
Seeing her friend sleep soundly put her at ease as she moved the covers up a bit to cover his shoulders. She couldn't help but chuckle slightly. Here she was, treating him like a child, though they were roughly the same age... looking from the right perspective maybe.
Despite her attempts to be quiet, his eyes fluttered open and he slowly sat up. She was about to close the door when she noticed his awareness.
"Morning, Cecil."
"Morning."
"Feeling better?"
The aging king nodded once, "A little. Though... there's a part of me that just can't believe she's gone."
Walking back, she sat by him on the bed and put her arm around his shoulders, "I know. I miss her too."
She leaned her head against his as he sighed, "It seems trite, but I feel cold without her."
"It's not trite. She meant a lot to you and all of us. It's only natural we feel a void where she once was."
Cecil chuckled sadly, "Here I am, supposed to be recuperating and I'm only making the heartache worse."
"No... You're letting it out. And it's better than keeping it in and letting it fester. In the meantime, if you'll give me a minute, I'll fix you something. You didn't eat much yesterday, you realize. A young man like yourself has to keep his strength up."
One of Cecil's eyebrow's cocked in surprise, "You do realize that I'm older than you are."
Rydia allowed herself a wry smile, "Of course. And because I'm the executor of the royal family's estate and their guardian, I'm going to take care of you."
Cecil nearly pouted, "I'm a grown man and more than capable of taking care of myself."
Rydia started to laugh, "Of course. Which is why you're acting like a child for not accepting help from a friend that cares about you."
He casually pointed a finger at her, trying to frown but failing, "Be careful, fairy. I'm in no mood to be pampered or mothered."
She smirked and stood up. "Which is good for you, because fairy god-mothers have notoriously explosive tempers."
To her relief, Cecil tried to give another comeback, but their fit of giggling had taken out the snappy retort before it escaped his throat.
Once she calmed down, she patted his shoulder, "I'll be back in a bit."
She was passing through the doorframe when she heard Cecil say, "Rydia."
She inclined her head to him, "Yes?"
He smiled back to her warmly, "Thank you, again."
Rydia nodded back, "You're welcome, Cecil."
...
Once Rydia left, Cecil sat against the backboard of the guest room's bed. The house he was a guest in was a small affair, but large enough to fulfill its purpose. Though the bed he had been sleeping in for the past two days was nothing like the one back at the castle, it helped him sleep soundly enough.
Crossing his legs, he leaned forward and cradled his head on his palms, trying to keep his thoughts in order. He was distracted so much, he failed to notice the mists from outside beginning to creep into his room.
With the mists, a woman that resembled Rydia walked to the side of his bed, yet did not face him. Only for an instant, her passive gaze traveled over him.
"Be wary, holy paladin..." the woman whispered, sounding like a distant echo, "...though your deeds and tears have blessed my grave and saved my child, I fear for you..."
She turned away from him, "...from the other world, I can see the darkness beginning to encroach upon your mind."
Her face soon took a sad countenance as her form began to vanish. "I beg you, paladin... do not falter in your faith in your friends and beliefs..."
He looked to his right, imagining someone talking to him. But all he heard was an echo, with nothing but sound and a fleeting fury, signifying nothing.
...
With shifting eyes, Anthony walked from the main antechamber, confirming that no one was watching him. The talks were coming along smoothly, as he expected since Cecil's son was in charge. Yet, something seemed amiss to him, since Cecil was the one who was supposed to be in there. He had checked the king's room, but was shooed away by the maid, telling him that the king needed his rest.
Well, it didn't matter anyway. His 'contacts' had assured him that there was enough power in the bomb to practically flood the upper levels of the castle. By the time it would be controlled, Cecil and his family would long be burnt to a cinder.
Checking a clock, he noticed that it was nearly time for the bomb to go off. The sooner he went to his usual check with the outer guards, the less suspicious it would seem. After all, he was only the captain of the guard. Diplomacy was never his forte.
Calmly moving down the steps, he thought to himself, "King Anthony... sounds nice."
An explosion and a rumble behind him interrupted his thoughts. Looking back for an instant, he turned to see the flames spreading quickly, racing across the floor to anyone foolish enough to be caught. Not wasting a second, he ran with all haste to the entrance, screaming to other servants and personnel to run for their lives.
Running with all the momentum he could gather, he broke through a door, allowing others to escape the blaze.
"Move! Hurry!" he said ushering several white mages in training to the main courtyard. As much as it galled him to admit it, he was starting to regret trusting Mysidian nobles.
Within minutes, any and all survivors were able to escape. However, to the shock of everyone, save for Anthony, none of the royal family had escaped.
Looking at his slightly burnt hands, he frowned and thought, "So... that's how you want to play this game. Well, then, you've made your move and have taken my rooks and knights. Yet, in your arrogance, you've left your king wide open."
...
Amid the commotion, none of the staff noticed Baigan's underling, Benjamin, carrying a small bundle in his arms. Quickly, he ran towards the Old Water Way and hopping into the trench, he ran to the rear end of the castle. The bundle in his arms started to move and a baby's voice began to cry, not knowing whom was carrying him.
"Shh, it's ok." Benjamin said, trying to soothe the baby. Though he wanted to sympathize with the baby, he needed to run quickly. If Anthony found out that he had smuggled the King's grandson out before the bomb exploded, he'd surely kill them both.
"There you are!" a woman's voice said.
Looking up, Benjamin started towards the woman sitting atop the chocobo. With quick, yet smooth, steps, he walked to the large bird, stepped out of the water way, and handed her the baby gently.
He nodded as she brought the child to her torso and laid it against her shoulder to make it more comfortable. Waiting for his next order, he stood passively by the unmoving bird.
His eyes met her as she smiled from the baby to him, "Well done, Benjamin."
"Thank you, my lady."
He was about to turn back when a momentary thought brought him back.
"My lady, a question, if I may ask?" His inquiry delayed her departure.
She seemed unperturbed looking back to him. "Yes?"
"What is your name? Or should I ask, what was your name?"
Her smile fascinated and frightened him at the same time. "Depends on which name you refer to. Nina, Tifa, Alexis, Lenna. They all served the same purpose."
Satisfied, Benjamin turned back to the waterway, an eventually, the next king of Baron.
End of Chapter 4
Notes: Finally, you see the TRUE inspiration behind the creation of this fic. Edward's little 'poem' is actually "I am stretched on your grave' by the (unfortunately) broken band, Dead Can Dance. The singer has a haunting baritone voice, singing of a love that is meant to endure beyond death, yet it's next to impossible to let go. I was able to imagine Cecil lying on Rosa's grave... it seemed so him.
A side note: Benjamin is a FF Mystic Quest reference. Despite it not being the best of games, it still stuck with me.
C&C is appreciated... especially detailed C&C.
All FF related material belongs to SquareEnix.