This was written from Duke Vox's point of view shortly after the appearance of the 'celestial ship'. It's also my first published fic on this site. Rated for blood and death.
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Ocean: Till the End of Time or any related characters or places. If I did, I wouldn't be here. I'd be in Japan and I'd be way richer than any of you. :P
I lay here on the Aire Hills in a pool of my own blood. I could smell the carnage around me, the scent of rotting flesh making me want to gag. My loyal beast Tempest lies not too far from here, dead. He was a faithful companion, and a powerful dragon. He deserved better. I look around to see dead bodies all around me. My men are all dead. I know that they did not care much for me, but they followed me none the less. I can't help but feel saddened by the loss of life today. All that I had struggled for, the war I had so carefully concocted, is this all that my life amounts to? If I add up all the pro's and all the con's, is the outcome truly zero?
I still don't know what that weapon was. Some might say it's an Aquarian weapon, but I know better. Even with their runeology I doubt they could make something of that scale. Even if they had, to fire upon the surface in such a random way as to hit one's own army is the height of stupidity, even for an Aquarian.
As I lay here dying, I still retain my hatred for them. They tell us how the sun god Apris is so kind, so powerful, so giving that he would set his own body aflame to become to become the sun. Yet as those priests of Apris sat in their magnificent temples and the people of Aquaria dined on fine foods in warm houses, the people of Airyglyph struggled for survival. The houses they condemned we lived in. The crops they deemed unworthy we ate. Did Apris do anything? Did the kind and noble Aquarians help us while we died of starvation? No, they were too busy building magnificent cities and monuments to their 'god'. That was why I started this war. I wanted to see them burn. To see those statues of Apris and his wives cast down, the temples reduced to rubble beneath my feet. I wanted to see the Holy Mother beg for her life before I ran her through with my blade. Oh, how I hate them all.
That was the one thing me and the captain of the black brigade had in common. We both hated their silly gods, their pathetic rituals. Yet in the end that hatred of a common enemy was not enough to unite us. When I accused him of treason, I knew I would win. The fool was too prideful, too stubborn to admit he was defeated, and I had known the king since he was a boy.
But I think fate conspired against me that day. Or maybe it simply had a sense of humor. Had I not cast him down, he'd be dying here instead of me. Perhaps he simply had a greater destiny than me, a bigger purpose. I can't see Albel the Wicked doing anything to better the world, but maybe there was a task yet left for that one. I laughed to myself at the irony of the situation. A cold, dry sound that was weak and dull even to my ears. It hurt to laugh. Many say laughter was like a good medicine, but right now it was anything but.
If there was one thing I had always liked about the black brigade captain, it was his loyalty to his country and it's people. He put everything he had, everything he was into Airyglyph. He was the last one left, I realized. The last of the great Glyphian warriors. Woltar was old and weak. He was a master at battle strategy and had a brilliance with politics I lacked, but he was no warrior. At least not anymore. The king was strong, but he could not fight hoards of enemies or coordinate brilliant attacks. Now it was up to the man I hated the most, Albel Nox, to keep my country safe. He would not pursue the Aquarians as I had, but maybe that was for the better. The people needed peace and security.
I can taste blood in my mouth now. A bitter, wet taste that disgusts me. I cough, knowing my time is at an end. As the world goes dark around me, I regret not being able to do more for Airyglyph. But I am also glad that there will be one to take my place.
I hadn't imagined dying like this. I had hoped that there would be some grand orchestra as they buried the box they had laid me in. Now I realize I didn't deserve that kind of funeral, for the only thing I did all my life was hurt people. Instead, I have only the music of my thoughts. My silent requiem.