The child sat across from him as Cecil sharpened his sword. Both of them could feel the tension in the air as the troops in the castle were starting to grow restless. He looked up to her and tried to give a reassuring smile, but it was in vain.
The King of Fabul and the remaining forces knew they were going to be in for a rough ride, which was why Cecil and his group had volunteered to move the civilians out of the town and to safety. Now, only the skeleton forces of the castle and volunteers watched the skies, waiting with what few anti-aircraft guns they could find, to prepare for the upcoming battle.
The Red Wings had attacked Damcyan nearly two weeks ago and Cecil knew that if Baron moved through the motions of refueling and such, they could very well attack within the next day or two. Thankfully, Fabul had prepared all that it could, though it didn't need to be said that it still wasn't enough.
"What's gonna happen?" Rydia said, curling into a ball against the headboard.
"Well... we're going to defend the kingdom. We're going to try and hold off as long as we can until the envoys to Tororia, Silvera, and Agart reach them. If we're lucky, then we can hold the siege until help arrives."
Rydia's power of perception never ceased to amaze him as she asked further, "What if they don't get there in time?"
He looked to her frightened eyes and said calmly. "They have to. And our defense will hold." He held up his jagged dark sword to the candles, examining the work his sharpening stone had done. "Though I owe the king much, on what little honor I do have left, I will not let him do as he pleases...."
"Did you know the king?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yes. He was like a father to me. You know that I never knew my parents. So, in a way, I am like the king's adopted son."
"Shouldn't you be a prince, then?"
Odd images of him wearing foppish clothes brought an unwanted smile and laugh to him. "No. I felt too much obligated to the king to even think of anything else besides serving him. That is why I took up the Dark Sword and the Oath of the Shadow at his request."
"What's that?"
"Well, the Oath of the Shadow is like... well, it's almost like the same way the Summoners interact with their Aeons. However, the Dark Knights make a vow to the Judge of the Dead that they will administer justice to the living. And for an exchange of life force from the knight, he can use the power of the 'wronged', or the spirits of those who were robbed of their life, to aid him in battle."
"Isn't that dangerous?"
"Yes. When used unwisely or in excess. That's why a sound mind is one of the most important things a Dark Knight must have or else he will do wrong."
He was about to continue when he took another look at her and realized what he had said. A sound mind was something he did not have when he raided Mysidia and Mist. And even now, he still continued to call the powers of the Shadow when he was not worthy.
"Excuse me for a minute..." He stood up and walked out. He could tell she was wondering why he had to leave, but she thankfully remained still as he went to one of the darker corners of the courtyard. After a brief glance, grateful no one was there, he pulled out 'Opacus', the sword he had carried since his initiation and thrust its blade into the ground.
Kneeling in front of the handle, he began to whisper, "Judge of the Dead... I ask thee... my offenses have left me in much turmoil. I have acted without justice due to my loyalties. Yet, I seek not to excuse myself. I am without guidance and without a path to take. I feel alone and know not what to do..."
For a full minute, he remained still. Every time his appeals to the Judge were made, he had received an answer in one form or another. However, ever since the day he had raided Mysidia, the Judge had been deathly silent. Several times he attempted to reach him in the past, but still received no answer.
With a audible sigh, he let his head hit the handle and knew he was resigned to his fate. The Judge had abandoned him and he was no longer worthy to mete out justice.
A sneeze drew him around to see Rydia peeking around a wall. She gasped and hid again, but he had already seen her.
"Rydia... step out, please."
He stood up as she walked out with her head hung low. The meager light of the moon fell through the windows and onto her. It was almost an epiphany to his eyes. It was the same scene back in Kaipo. Events like this were not coincidental.
He held back a gasp at the sight when he realized what this could mean. Slowly, a smile grew as he bowed his head and whispered, "My thanks to you, Judge."
He looked back to the child, sheathed his sword, and walked to her. Her head was still bowed in shame as he knelt by her. "How much did you see?"
Rydia appeared a bit scared as she looked up to him. "I couldn't hear what you said, but I did see you praying. I'm sorry."
Smiling, he gently gathered the child into his arms. "Don't worry about it. Let's get back to the room. You need your rest."
Her smile and subsequent embrace around his neck made the upcoming events seem a bit less urgent. Though he was no prophet or seer, he had a feeling that this child could be part of the answer he was searching for.
...............
Opening his eyes slowly, he looked to the sun's rays pouring into the room he knew resided in. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and watched the light from the window crawl to the floor as it made unusual patterns on the wood from the cloud cover.
How strange that he would remember that night, the day before the three-day siege of Fabul. He would have to ask some of the scyers about seeing visions of the past in dreams when he returned to Baron. Leaving that train of thought for the present, he took a moment to listen to he activity outside.
It was always so quiet in Mist. He remembered the calm of the day he and Kain first entered the town. All he heard was the sound of the wind running through his ears, the birds chirping, and a small stream on the outskirts of the village.
A woman's voice whispered, "It was beautiful, wasn't it?"
He blinked and looked around for the source of the voice, but found no one. Stepping into the hallway, he looked around the adjacent kitchen to find no one else with him.
"Who's there?" he said, wishing he had Excalibur with him.
Breath, cold as winter, caressed his neck as the same voice from earlier whispered into his ear, "Wouldn't you like to know..."
He whirled around to find a faded image with little detail. However, it was definitely in the shape of a woman. There were only patches of her skin visible, but they seemed pale as death. The robe she appeared to wear brought the image of fresh blood to his mind and countless strands of silver cascaded from her head as though she hovered in water.
He stepped backward and looked into the shadows that could have been the eyes of this woman. "Who are you?"
The contours on the woman's face gave the impression of a smirk. "No one of consequence."
Cecil stood his ground and frowned, "Somehow, I doubt that. People of little consequence never send an image as an envoy."
The woman began to chuckle in amusement. "Not an image, your highness. An echo. And with this echo, comes a warning."
"I know that danger can appear in any form at any time. And lack of vigilance can become quite costly."
The woman laughed in scorn. "Ah, and of course, the mighty Paladin King has never failed his vigil, even when his children and grandchildren lie in ashes."
Cecil's eyes widened in shock and rage at the announcement, "What manner of monster are you?! What do you hope to gain by telling me lies?!"
His visitor laughed with such derision that he instinctively drew his fist back and threw it through what could have been her head. Unfortunately, he hit only thin air as he stumbled to the floor.
The laugh continued to reverberate through his ears, but soon died out as he got to his feet. He waited long for another response, but only heard silence and the sound of birds from the outside. Whoever it was, they knew he was here when he should have made it to Mist in secret. And the stranger's cryptic words. An echo? What could the woman had meant by that?
...
Emerging through the crowded bazaar of Mist, Rydia marveled at how much the town had grown since she last returned. Yet, what still surprised her was how many of these people once lived in Mysidia. From what the mayor had informed her of, many of these people were of the 'lowest' caste of Mysidian society and therefore shunned by the noble houses. She begrudgingly remembered Lana when she heard of the bigotry of the higher mage families. Since they had no chance with the noble houses' influence, they traveled to Mysidia, where through their own industry, they brought new life into the once fledgling hamlet. With their inclusion also came newer blood since many of the older summoner lines were starting to thin out. Mist would survive and grow, thankfully.
On her way back to her house, Rydia could not help but feel something was wrong. Even trying to hear the chatter from the crowds got more difficult since many of them were speaking in whispers for reasons she couldn't fathom.
She even tried to speak to someone coming from Baron, but he had politely asked her to leave him alone. Now she was getting worried.
"Rydia! Rydia!"
Whirling around, she turned to see the slightly pudgy mayor of Mist attempting to reach her without running over everyone in front of him. To her relief, they thought nothing of him when he passed. To her frustration, he was panting quiet heavily, having only run from his house on the other side of the Bazaar.
"Taylor, what's wrong?" she asked bringing him aside.
Between breaths, the man said quickly, "Is Cecil still here?"
"Yes, he's still back at my house. Why? What's going on?"
Gathering his courage, Taylor continued, "Just yesterday, the Separatists attacked Baron, during the peace talks. Everyone at the conference, including the royal family, was burned to death."
Rydia's mouth hung open in stunned shock. She did not just hear what Taylor had said. Terrance, his siblings and their children were dead? No, it couldn't be true!
Leaning against the wall of a building, she said, "I can't believe it... this can't be happening... it can't be!"
"Well, at least Cecil's ok."
"No... Taylor, just the other day, his wife passed on. I assume you heard the news."
"Oh no."
"I brought him here so he could recover from losing Rosa. And one way or another he's going to learn that his children and grandchildren are dead! What am I supposed to tell him?!"
"I don't know!"
Feeling her anger rise to a threshold, she whacked against the wall with the back of her fist. Bad enough Zemus committed all those heinous crimes all those years ago; it really put Rydia off to see humans doing this to each other.
"Taylor, I have a favor to ask of you."
"Yes?"
"When I return to my house, I'm going to fix something for Cecil to eat. Then, I will tell him that I have some business to attend to in Silvera. During that time, I want you to take care of him. Guard him with your life and make sure no one knows that he's here."
"What are you going to do?"
"What else?" she said before turning to him with a rage flaring through her eyes that no one had ever seen, "I am going to find the one responsible for this and make them pay!"
"You can't be serious! If it's the Separatists that did it, then you may as well try to bring the Lunarian Moon back."
"No, Taylor," Rydia said as she started back towards her house, "the reason why they've never been found is because they hide in the shadows. And what they never counted on was I having friends there. They can run all they want, I'll still find them."
"Rydia..."
"Don't try to stop me, Taylor. I'm not going to let a bunch of terrorists think they can do as they please."
Taylor was about to speak, but reconsidered his first choice of words for some different ones. "Very well... Rydia, be careful. Don't get too caught up in all this, or else you may be no better than the ones that started it."
Rydia was about to retort when she whispered to herself with a hint of irony, "Just like Bahamut told me... heroes must be careful when vanquishing evil, for it creates a vacuum that must be filled."
She turned back to him and said, "I'll be careful, Taylor."
...
Bursting open the doors to the main assembly halls, Porom Ambrosious stomped to the center of the council. "What is the meaning of this?!" She wasn't concerned over their shocked expressions as she glared at each of the present council members, her brother excluded.
One of the red mages stood, "What are you referring to, councilwoman?"
Porom slammed the offensive piece of paper in front of him. "I was just informed that the King of Baron and his family were assassinated by a Firebomb using Mysidian techniques! Not only that, because it is used by the Separatists, the rest of Baron is pointing the finger at us! Now someone please tell me why I was not informed of this development sooner?!"
Maester Ronan Heartily stood up meekly, "Well, we just found out ourselves a short while earlier."
She turned a tired and bloodshot eye towards the smaller man, "Be that as it may, Heartily, as the Head of the Mage Council, it is my duty to be the first to know. Considering that Baron is now being swept up in Anti-Mysidian propaganda, our representatives are dead, and the Separatists are throwing a minor celebration in whatever hole they live in; it would be most wise for us all if we attempted to diffuse the situation as quickly as possible."
To the surprise of everyone around, including Porom, Maester Dackat Mayers stood up and spoke with a contrary air. "Is that really wise, Councilwoman? I mean, the Separatists have despised the King of Baron for as long as they can remember the Crystal Wars."
Her brother, previously rubbing his head from the hangover, stood up and retorted, "Oh, give me a break, Dackat. Judging by how any of the Separatists we've caught, they were most likely not even being conceived when the Crystal War ended. They were fed a bunch of chocobo turds by merchants that lost their business when Baron assisted in the reconstruction."
Folding her arms, Porom continued, "I concur. In addition, were it not for Baron's assistance, we would still be nothing more than a few farmers with mere pitchforks to defend ourselves with."
Dackat remained resolute, "Are you so certain of that? We have a tradition of magic that reaches long before Baron was even instigated and yet we are strewn along like a petulant child for the reconstruction. Building our buildings according to 'their' designs. Creating materials using 'their' techniques."
Much to Porom's chagrin, it appeared that Dackat's silver tongue was starting to influence the rest of the council. "And what do you suppose we should have done? Wallow in the mud after the devastation caused by Golbez and Zemus? In case you have forgotten, Dackat, we had little to nothing. With any luck, we could restore ourselves to a town after the wars with what we had then. Accept the truth, Dackat. The Paladin King was true to his word and because we accepted his aid, we have emerged stronger than before the wars. Though we have yet to achieve the status of Crescent, we are far better off swallowing our pride and accepting the fact that our pedestal was smashed by our arrogance and restored by the Paladin's virtue. No, Dackat, this act of cowardice by the Separatists was nothing more than the tantrum of a petty spoiled child. And by having the Paladin dead, we may as well have sealed our fate. Cecil changed Baron into the benevolent giant from the tyrant it once was. And with Cecil gone, the tyranny may return unless we find a way to douse a flame before it becomes an inferno to consume us all!"
Despite her exhaustion, Porom felt she stood taller than Dackat and all the other praise seekers that he associated with. Even the rest of the council was stunned to silence. Her relief came when her brother came into her line of sight and gave her a smirk that spoke of how proud he was of her.
Turning back to Dackat, she stared him straight in the eyes, challenging him to try and refute her. Yet, both she and Palom knew that Dackat was not stupid and knew a losing battle when he saw one. To her relief, he stepped down.
With a sigh, she returned to her seat amongst the table where the council sat. "Now then, since we have that order of business out of the way, we need to prepare a statement for the Baronian people. I know it may not be much, but it is certainly better than doing nothing."
...
"Cecil? Oh, there you are," Rydia said walking through the door with her food satchel over her shoulder.
"Rydia," he replied in all seriousness, "Has there been any reports of specters haunting this area of town?"
She caught onto his apprehension. "No. By all rights, the spirits have been dispersed and exorcized. I would have known if there was something here. Why do you ask?"
He turned back to where the previous visitor once was. "Because there was someone or something here speaking to me. It said it was an echo, not a projected image."
She walked past him and held out her free hand to sense any sort of distortion in the Ether. He walked to her side when he noticed a frightened look in her eyes.
"Chronogy..." she whispered.
"What?"
"It was another Chronogy pulse. Just like the ones in Mysidia."
"What exactly is that?"
"It's a noticeable surge of the energy that moves time forward. The Land of Summoned Monsters is swimming in it. And unlike most other ethereal elements, Chronogy has qualities that no one can understand. And sensing a pulse in this is usually only found in Stop, Slow, and Haste ranked spells, but they've never been as strong as this."
"Do you suppose someone may have found the answer?"
She shook her head as she walked back to the kitchen and placed the food she purchased on the table. "There are intelligences that can move at will through the time stream, but they never show themselves to people like us. However, for someone to make an 'echo' as you said, then we may have a problem."
He looked down in thought. "It spoke to me, saying that my children and grandchildren were dead."
He whirled around when he heard a plate shatter on the ground. Rydia was staring at him in utter shock, her hands limp where the plate she was carrying once was.
"Are... are you serious?"
He nodded. "It's a frightening thought. However, I didn't believe it. If it was a specter, then it was probably preying on my fears."
She continued to stare at him as she began to spreads some fruit on the table. "It's a normal occurrence with those things. I'll have to take some time to research this at Mysidia."
He took a seat and then looked up to her, "Are you leaving?"
"For a few days, yes. I also have to speak to the Twins about something. As soon as we're done with breakfast, I'll be going. Until then, I'd like you to stay here."
He nodded. "I understand. If all goes well, I can return to Baron as soon as you return."
"Feeling up to dealing with the political rhetoric again?"
He smiled wryly. "Not really, but I can't stay here for too long, otherwise people may get suspicious."
Rydia snorted in reply. "Oh please. The only reason why Terrance and I suggested we come here alone was that you didn't need the affairs of the kingdom to weigh you down. I don't believe in kings that never take a respite from all the work."
He considered the orange slice in his hand before taking a bite. "Perhaps you're right."
Then, they ate their meal in silence. Their respective secrets killed any hope of future conversation.
Though Cecil did not wish to brood on the echo's warning, he couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. It gnawed at the back of his mind, just out of sight, but always there. If it was the truth... no, it couldn't have been.
The meal eventually ended and Rydia stood up to take care of their plates and silverware. He was walking past the table when his gaze fell upon the shattered pieces of the plate Rydia once carried. His reflection in the glass was faint, but still visible. He found himself trying to find more detail in his aging face when he discovered his reflection was no longer the one he saw initially. All he saw were shadows.
"Cecil," Rydia said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?"
He looked back to her when he realized that he was perspiring a bit. He shook his head and held a palm to his temple and said, "I'm fine... just didn't sleep as well as I thought. I'm going to prepare myself a bath, you go on."
He could tell she knew something bothered him. However, her business needs to take precedence at the moment. He was walking back to the guest room when he heard her speak,
"Cecil... remember the Caller's Vow? Back in Giott's kingdom? It still stands, even after all this time."
He paused for a moment, remembering how she knelt before him and said that she would remain true to the cause of the Paladin's. Everyone at the time was rather shocked, since the Caller's Vow was only heard of in legends, just like the Paladin itself.
It was a vow of such strength that any Summoner that broke it was stripped of their power and left to die by the powers they once wielded.
Without turning to her, he said with complete confidence, "I remember and I shall never doubt your loyalty. Let it be known that I trust you, High Summoner Rydia Drake. In duty, conscience, truth, and reality, with my life."
Hoping that would placate her worries, he grew relieved when he heard her whisper, "Thank you." He heard nothing more of her as she stepped out of the house.
...
"I can't believe this... within a week, Baron is given a new king when the people believe the old one to be dead." Porom grumbled.
"You think he's still alive?" Palom whispered to his sister from beneath his hands.
"He has to be... Cecil should have been out of the castle by the time the talks started," Porom muttered, looking over the report from her contacts in Baron received just that morning. She looked up to her brother, "And what about your contacts in the Noble Houses?"
"Well, it's obvious the Mayers and Klausers are jumping for joy behind close doors. Heartily's keeping quiet and the Strifes are just a step below the other two."
The head councilwoman stood up and cupped her hands behind her back. "And now, we have the coronation of the new king of Baron coming up." Palom's lips dropped into a vicious frown, "Baigan... the punk's no better than his pop..."
She nodded. "Ostensibly so. I only met the man once. However, I can still feel that man's slithering gaze under my skin. I loathe it. It was the same feeling I got when we met his father, only there was no 'gift' from Golbez."
Palom stood up and walked to his window. "I bet you anything he did it. Revenge for his father. It'd fit. The Captain of the Guard has always been the next in line after the royal family."
She sighed and shook her head, "I want to agree, but the fact is we have no proof. In addition, Baron's magical materials aren't as well refined as ours are. Which makes it all the easier for Baron to blame us."
A breeze lifted Palom's locks as an odd thought came to mind. "Malcontents..."
"Hm?"
"What if there were people in Baron that weren't exactly happy with Cecil?"
"How do you figure?"
Palom turned to his sister. "I recall a short while back, one of my contacts in Mayer mentioned that the nobles in Baron were grumbling because Cecil was able to lower the tax rate due to the kingdom's prosperity. Get a few greedy nobles in the Baronian infrastructure and you got a clear case of greed leading to murder."
Catching on, she added, "And do you suppose that the Baronian nobles could have been in liege with the Noble Houses?"
A small smirk grew on his lips, "Any enemy of my enemy is my friend... wouldn't surprise me in the least to hear Dackat say that. He's not the smartest, but knows opportunity when he sees it. He was the one that tried to lynch Cecil when he washed up on shore all those years ago. And he didn't lose anything except his lucrative business at the time."
Porom stepped to her brother and whispered, "Are you saying that the Separatists may be innocent?"
He nodded, "Yeah. Dackat's got the connections the Separatists wished they had. He's got ties to Agart, Silvera, and even as far as Tororia. Most bombs are made in Agart because of their proximity to the volcano. The magic in Silveran Pure is a perfect catalyst for a firebomb. And what better way to disguise its magical signature than a magnetic field made from a shell crafted in the Toroian mines?"
Porom gave her brother a look of complete surprise. "Amazing... all of that you've deduced yourself?"
He shook his head. "No... It's just the result of a lot of thinking, a little luck, and good timing." He then smirked at her once more, "And a couple hundred smacks to the head from an overly violent sister."
"That's not funny, brother dear. But even with all that, we still need proof of Dackat's involvement."
Palom walked to the door and as he stepped through, he said with a smile, "Give me a week. Then we'll have Dackat on trial. And once that turkey's cooked, I'm gonna throw the book at him so hard he won't be able to smirk anymore."
Porom smiled back at her brother as he walked out of sight. She couldn't help but admire his resolve when the right set of circumstances was presented.
Walking back to her own office, she felt her spirits lift a bit with recent developments.
"Lady Ambrosious!" an aide of hers cried running up the stairs with a few scrolls in her arms.
"What is it?"
"We got those results for the blood tests you wanted. And I think you should see these!" she said as she brought Porom to a secluded corridor.
Opening the first scroll, she looked at the results and readings the recently developed technique of blood printing. Upon reading the results for hers and her brother's, she read them once more to make sure she was not mistaken.
"Are you sure these are correct?"
"We tested them several times, ma'am. There's no mistake."
Porom sighed and handed one of the scrolls back to the aide. It appeared things weren't going to be any easier for them.
"Anything else?"
"Yes. There have been several reports of a Black Knight running around several towns in the south. It hasn't done any harm to civilians, but it's brutally killed convicted criminals and bandits. The people are getting scared and don't know what to do."
Porom closed her eyes, thinking what would be best to do, but anything she could do only presented more problems. However, an unusual answer appeared. It was strange enough that it was too good to resist. "Prepare a black chocobo for tomorrow. I'm going to investigate this matter personally."
The aide blinked. "Ma'am? What about the council?"
"My brother can keep them in line when I can't. And if you see him before I do, tell him he has full permission to... hm, 'rip them a new one' as he would put it, if they cause trouble." She then handed the aide the last scroll. "Any thing else?"
"Yes. We've gotten reports that Lady Drake is roaming the woods east of here and she's causing a havoc."
"What?! What for?"
"She's found the Separatists."
...
The young man landed with a grunt among his friends as they found themselves staring at their possible death.
Letting the lightning dance around her body, Rydia advanced with an air of invincibility. In reality, they couldn't do a thing to her. They were nothing more than a bunch of boys in their twenties with no real talent for magic. However, what they lacked in magic, they excelled in their trade.
"So then," Rydia said, gathering a sphere of lighting around her body, "how shall we proceed?"
The largest man in the group screamed, "This is none of your business, beast whore..."
"SILENCE!" she screamed, causing the room to quake. For her level of skill, all that required for a small tremor was a mere thought, yet she had to restrain herself before she killed them all prematurely. Amid the shaking, the same splitting headache she had experienced before returned in force. However, she pushed the pain out and returned her attention to the matter at hand. "How dare you say such things when the blood of innocent people are on your hands?!"
She drew her whip out and throwing the energy of her lightning into the chain, she caught the other man by his ankle and let the bolt claim its target. Within seconds the man collapsed, not dead, but seriously injured.
With the lightning gone, her foes started to disperse, hoping to surround her. However, within seconds, a ring of flame gathered around her.
Drawing the edge of her whip to her hands, she sent them all a challenging glare, "Who wishes to die first? I'm sure the royal family would rest better knowing their murderers did not enjoy their victory for long."
The remaining men then stopped their advance and then looked to one another.
"What... what are you talking about? We had nothing to do with that!" One young man spoke up nervously.
Rydia's glare centered on the one that dared to deny their guilt. However, the look of confusion in his eyes was beginning to tell her otherwise.
Letting the flames die down, she turned to the shadows and asked, "Does he speak the truth, Indra?"
The ancient sage appeared in a bolt of lighting, took a glance at the young man before stroking his beard. "Yes... he speaks the truth." Putting her whip back on the holster in her best, she continued, "Then what about the Devil's Road being attacked?"
Feeling bolder, the young man spoke up, "That wasn't us either. It was the Noble Houses."
Rydia turned to Indra, the same question in her eyes. To her shock, the Aeon nodded again. She turned back to the group of young men in front of her, realizing that she had made a terrible mistake.
Walking forward, she pulled out a High Potion from her pack before pouring it over the man she had shocked earlier. Thankfully, the man's companions didn't stop her. "Tell me... what's going on?"
The same young man continued. "Well... most people think that we're fighting against Baron. But that's not true. We're fighting against the aristocracy of Baron and the Noble Houses. We've been doing so for years. Unfortunately, the Noble Houses manipulate the information to make us look like the bad guys."
Stepping up to him, she asked, "So... do you think that the Noble Houses knew that the Twins and I were close to discovering a cure for Rosa and they made sure we wouldn't get there in time?"
The man nodded, "I know so. One of the children from the Noble Houses delivered it to the building herself."
She turned to the general direction of Mysidia, fresh rage consuming her mind. "...Lana..." She was about to stomp out of the cavern when a hand grabbed her shoulder, restricting her movement.
"No... this is our fight, Summoner. We know what you're trying to do, but we have to take care of this ourselves, or else we'll never be free from those stupid traditions that have kept the Noble Houses in power."
She removed her shoulder from his grip and then turned to their motley bunch. "Of course. With what little you do have, I'm sure you'll be able to take them down in about a century or two."
Another man spoke up, "Not true! We have help."
Rydia cocked a cynical eye, "Oh really? Who would this be?"
"Lady Drake!" a familiar voice cried from behind her.
She whirled around to see the person in question and gaped.
"Her," the man said, pointing at the panting and sweat laden Porom Ambrosious.
...
He wasn't sure what woke him. Yet, all he knew was that he was awake. Leaning up, he pulled himself out of the oval shaped chamber that served as his bed and slowly placed his bare feet against the cold floor.
He looked up to the ceiling, showing the universe as it was, yet he knew where he was looking. Walking past many more chambers like his own, he paced forward to the central antechamber ahead.
It was strange. The sleep he went through was unlike anything he had ever known. However, most of his life was lived in darkness, so his opinion on such matters could not be trusted.
Despite the cold floor stinging his feet, he walked through another passageway to the main entrance. Passing a throne, he walked down the stairs to the entrance.
"What is wrong?" an sagely, yet powerful, voice inquired.
He turned around and discovered the form of the guardian materializing on the throne. The simple azure robe he wore seemed pale in comparison to the exquisitely kept white beard that cascaded down his chest.
The young man turned back to the endless night before whispering,
"It's my brother."
End of chapter 5
First off: All things Final Fantasy belong to SquareEnix.
Second: I know I took a few liberties with the logistics of the jobs Cecil and Rydia had, but it seems to work, I think. If you don't think so, let me know in detail. I'd like to hear people's input.
Third: The person Cecil met is not an original character. Besides, I got enough un-original characters mucking up the story as it is.
Fourth: A very important note: Cecil's comment on trusting Rydia 'In duty, conscience, truth, and reality' is a reference to my favorite Final Fantasy Tactics fanfic of the same name. Written by Harvey Bautista. I suggest you read it for a beautiful platonic romance. And it makes me jealous how well the author writes.
Fifth: Is it just me or is there a definite lack of fics that have the Twins as major players? It's a sad thing, I think. They got more potential than people give them credit.
Sixth: All the pseudo-science/mysticism should not be taken seriously in anyway shape or form. In other words... I don't know what the heck I'm talking about some of the time.
Last: I want to thank Stealth Noodle for all the nit picking and that by the next chapter, those silly boo-boos will be taken care of. And the same humble request for nit picking goes out to the rest of you. Yes, all three of you that bothers to read my nonsense.
In closing; it's really true that when you got a story going, it writes itself.