This chapter's longer than average, too. Don't worry; next time will be shorter.

Part Two, Act Three: Smolder
Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Royal City of Rabanastre
Year 706 of the Old Valendian Calendar

"So… What now?"
That was the question no one wanted to ask. Except Vaan, apparently. He always asked the hard questions, probably because it never fell to him to answer them. Balthier let out a long sigh; what now, indeed?
The flight across the sandsea had been a silent one. About two hours passed on that ride, though it felt like far longer. In that vacuum of silence, it was all Balthier could do to block out the repeating image of Vossler's last moments, the sting of that final battle, and the haunting echo of his last words. That, along with the torturing presence of active nethicite and the lingering aftershock of his powers, made the flight a miserable one indeed. Now, after those two hours of torment, they were safely docked in Rabanastre's aerodrome. During the ride, Penelo had worked tirelessly on Vaan's wounds, and Fran came to help her, though she still looked weak. Vaan seemed alright, now; well enough to ask difficult questions, apparently.
"What now?" Ashe echoed Vaan's question, looking at him as if he were a million miles away. After Basch handed her the Dawn Shard, Ashe had dropped against the wall and sat there, cradling the stone, silent and glassy-eyed. This confused echo was the first she'd spoken since. "I… don't know," Ashe continued. "What do we do?"
"Well, for starters, we can't stay here," Balthier said, standing out of the pilot's seat. "This is an Archadian military vessel, and it just docked unannounced in in Rabanastre's hanger. Someone's bound to come investigate eventually, and we can't be around when that happens. Basch, are there any old resistance hideouts? Somewhere safe we can take Ashe?"
"The Empire will have them all under close surveillance," Basch replied, shaking his head.
"Right," Balthier said, frowning in thought. "I suppose we could go the inconspicuous route and just stay at the inn. The guards probably won't know our faces, but still, it is a risk. It may also be our only option."
"If we check in soon, with no fuss, they likely won't connect us to this ship's arrival," Basch said. "We should go now."
Balthier nodded. "Well, you all heard him. Let's get going."
Vaan managed to get to his feet without help from Penelo. He still looked a bit pale, but apparently a steady bombardment of healing magic from Penelo and Fran had done undone most of the damage. Fran stood with difficulty, using the wall for support. She was pale, too, no longer gasping for breath but incredibly weary. Ashe didn't move at all.
"Ashe," Balthier said with a sigh. "Snap out of it. We have to get moving." Honestly, he didn't blame her for being so dazed; if he thought too long of what had just happened, it'd probably overwhelm him, too. Balthier, however, had poured his every effort into not to thinking about it.
Ashe stood, still cradling the Dawn Shard in her hands. The stone's surge of power had faded away, and now, rather than the pale lilac color it had before, the crystal was all a dull grey. Ashe stared down at the stone for a few moments, then looked up to meet Balthier's gaze. Beneath that glassy haze, her eyes held life still. She sucked in a deep breath, nodding slowly.
"You're right. Let's go."

…

At the inn, Balthier went to the front desk alone to pay for two small rooms made for three each. The whole group slipped in as discreetly as possible after, and, in the safety of a private room, sat down to discuss their plans. The room was cramped, but at least it was out of the Dalmascan sun and, more importantly, away from the listening ears.
"Now, for your question, Vaan," Balthier said. "What now?"
"We keep going," Ashe said. She held her head high, that distant, glassy gaze replaced with hardened resolve. "We can't give up. Not now. After everything Archadia's done, everything they've taken, twisted, broken…" She breathed hard, closing her eyes. "Rasler… Father… Vossler…" Her eyes flung open. "We can't give up now. Basch, you said… most of the resistance has gone to Ondore?"
"All that's left, Highness," Basch replied. "A couple agents are here in Rabanastre, waiting for word of your rescue. The plan was you would go to Bhujerba, to stay with Ondore."
"And we'll start all over?" Ashe said, eyes wide and desperate. "I suppose there's no other way."
"And you think you'll succeed?" Balthier said. "You saw what the Dawn Shard did to Archadia's eighth fleet, and that was by accident. Vayne has the Dusk Shard, and I'll bet he's not afraid to use it. Besides, can't they manufacture nethicite now? How do you think your little band of rebels will fare against that?"
"Then…" Staring down, Ashe's gaze fell on the crystal she held. She raised the Dawn Shard, holding the dull grey crystal up in the light falling from the window. "We'll use this! We'll fight them with this nethicite!"
The Dawn Shard's inner light was gone, the crystal all a dull, lifeless grey. Balthier hadn't felt its power since they left the Leviathan; its mind-numbing presence, its torturing whispers were all gone. Balthier was glad of it, but that didn't seem to serve the princess's purposes.
"That stone doesn't look like it's blowing up anything anytime soon," Balthier said. "Even if it could, would you know how to activate it?"
Ashe's gaze fell again. "I-"
"The Garif may know," Fran said. She sat on one of the beds, keeping her head up with some effort.
"The Garif?" Ashe echoed.
"They live far to the south, in Jahara," Fran continued. "Past the Ozmone Plain, on the edge of Jagd Difor. Magicite lore is a part of their culture. They tell legends of a gift from the Occuria, a relic whose power outmatched all. It may be they speak of this nethicite. Perhaps they know how to use it."
"I have to go there, then!" Ashe said.
"But will they tell you?" Balthier said. "The Garif are hardly part of the world at large; you see them around even less than Viera."
"They keep their distance, yes," Fran said, "but I do not believe they would turn us away, merely for being outsiders."
"Then it's settled," Ashe said. "I'll go to Jahara." She stared down at the Dawn Shard for a few moments, then looked up. "None of you have to come with me. I-"
"Highness, you will not go alone," Basch said. "I could not protect my homeland or my family, I could not save King Raminas or Lord Rasler. I could not even teach my own student to guard his honor. I will protect you, Highness, for Dalmasca. My sword is yours; I will guard you with my life."
"We're coming, too!" Vaan said.
"Yeah!" Penelo added. "We'll help you, princess!"
"Thank you, everyone," Ashe said with a sigh of relief.
"Very good," Balthier said. "Well then, Jahara's a long ways away; we'll need an airship to get that far, and mine's out in the desert right now. Fran and I'll pop out and bring her back, and by then, we'll probably have to wait 'til tomorrow to leave."
"You're coming with us?" Ashe said, eyes wide.
"I'm a bit too deep in all this to just fly off now, don't you think?" Balthier said, ignoring several reasons he both needed and wanted to go with them. "Come on, then, Fran; the sooner we leave, the sooner we get back."
"I'm… coming," Fran said, standing with great effort.
"Oh, right," Balthier said as Fran struggled to keep her feet. "Uh, Fran, you stay here and… rest up, and I'll just go myself."
"Hey, I'll come with you!" Vaan spoke up. Balthier let out a sigh.
"Don't you need to rest, too?"
"Don't worry, Penelo did a great job fixing me up," Vaan said. He did seem his old self again, though his shirt was still torn and thoroughly soaked with blood.
Balthier sighed. "Vaan…"
"You want to go out into the desert alone?" Vaan said. "That's kinda dangerous, isn't it?"
Balthier held back a biting comment of 'and you'll help, how?' Vaan had proven himself a useful ally on their journey.
"Oh, fine," Balthier said with a sigh. "Get changed and meet me outside, and hurry up about it. We don't have all day."
Balthier turned and marched out the door, then stopped halfway and swung back around.
"And nobody go anywhere, alright?" he said. "The last thing we need is someone getting caught and dragged off by the guards."
Not waiting for a response, he continued out the doorway. Balthier made it across the hallway, down the stairs, through the main door, and into the sunlit Rabanastran street. Then it struck him. His rifle had met its demise under Vossler's blade, back on the dreadnaught Levithan. The sword Balthier picked up midway through the fight, even if he had been capable of using it properly, he'd dropped somewhere between Vossler's body and their escape craft. Even with Vaan as backup, going into the Dalmascan Westersand weaponless was not a good idea. If he looked hard enough, Balthier could probably find something like his old rifle in the marketplace, if not quite as good.
"I'm ready!" Vaan declared, emerging from the door behind Balthier.
"Ah, Vaan, good," Balthier said. "I'm afraid to say there's a little detour we need to make before we can leave."
"Detour? Where?" Vaan asked.
"Well, just a little something I need to pick up at the marketplace." e dHhhjfljk

…

The Westersand was as calm as the Westersand gets. Brutal sun, packs of wolves ever on the prowl, whipping winds, but luckily no sandstorm. Balthier and Vaan traveled onward for a few hours, dealing with the problems weather and wildlife when they presented themselves. Balthier was terribly dissatisfied with his new rifle. His old one had gone through years of customization, and had been a better model from the start. Every time he used it, Balthier came up with a thousand new modifications he could make to make this shabby piece of workmanship run better. When he'd have time to implement such changes, however, he had no idea.
Things were mostly silent between him and Vaan. They spoke when necessary, but Balthier wasn't in the mood for idle conversation. Vaan tried to start such chats, but Balthier drowned each new attempt as it arose. He just wanted to focus on the mission at hand. Finally, with the sun sinking low in the sky, Balthier spotted Strahl hovering over the horizon, just as he'd left her, the grand airship glittering in the afternoon light, with no notion of what had transpired that morning. Balthier envied her.
"There she is," Balthier said. "Come on, Vaan, let's hurry; we want to get back before night, right?"
"Well, um, first…" Vaan stammered. "Can I ask something?" Balthier let out a sigh.
"What is it, Vaan?"
"What exactly happened up there, anyway?" Vaan said. "On the Leviathan?"
Balthier glanced over his shoulder at Vaan. "What, you couldn't see?"
"I was kinda… well, you know," Vaan said. "I don't remember a lot."
"I suppose you wouldn't," Balthier replied.
"So, Vossler… what happened to-"
"He's dead," Balthier replied, cutting off Vaan.
"Oh." Vaan stopped in his tracks, genuinely shocked. I guess he really didn't see much, Balthier thought. He, on the other hand, couldn't stop seeing those final moments.
"He's dead?" Vaan echoed. "What happened?"
"He…" Balthier paused as the events of that morning rushed over him again. He felt suddenly tired, the ache in his bad arm reminding him all too clearly of every stroke he laid with that blade, of every blow he'd blocked from a man he once counted as a friend. The clinging hint of static deep inside brought again the image of that flashing light, and the look of horror in Vossler's eyes. All culminated in one terrible moment, when Vossler lay dying on the floor. "He saved Ashe," Balthier said finally. "And… paid the price."
"What?" Vaan's eyes widened. "After all that? He handed us over to the imperials in the first place! Everything that happened was his fault! He made it obvious he didn't care! Why would he do that?"
"There was a lot more to it than that, Vaan," Balthier said with a sigh.
"What else matters?" Vaan fumed. "He helped the Empire! He betrayed Dalmasca! He-"
"He loved Ashe," Balthier said, cutting off Vaan's rant. "He didn't want her dying in a hopeless war."
"But he helped Archadia!" Vaan said. "How could he do that?"
"You've obviously never been in love before, Vaan," Balthier said. "It makes things a thousand times more complicated."
"So what? You forgive him?"
"What would you have done in his place?"
"I… I… Argh!" Vaan vented his frustration by launching a kick at the nearest rock poking up out of the sand. "I wish none of this had ever happened! If only those blasted Archadians hadn't invaded, then… then… I hate them!"
"I can tell," Balthier said. "So you still hold that all Archadians are lying, backstabbing, murdering scoundrels?"
"You don't get it!" Vaan said. "What they did to Reks… After the king died and everything, we heard they were holding him up in Nalbina. Penelo and I hitched a ride with a caravan to get up there, but when we got to the cells, the guards said no visitors, that they were busy 'questioning' him. You could hear, even out there, all the… screaming." Vaan looked away, collecting himself for a moment. "When they finally let us see him, he just… sat there in his chair and stared at the floor. Didn't say anything. He was like that until he died… about a year ago." Vaan balled his fists till the shook with anger. "Do you know what that's like?!"
"Not exactly," Balthier replied, his own bitter memories bubbling up. "But I'd be shocked if there was anyone left in this world without some idea."
Silence ensued, the kind Balthier hated, the kind he'd endured far too often lately. He refused to sit there and wallow in his pain when he had something else he needed to be doing.
"Come on, Vaan, let's get going," Balthier said, turning back towards Strahl on the horizon. "We're almost there; no reason to dawdle."
"Oh, right," Vaan said. "Yeah, let's go."

…

Up on Strahl's bridge, surrounded by the thrum of machinery, the sky stretching before him, bathed in the glow of the sinking sun, the light illuminating a familiar set of chairs and controls, Balthier felt almost at home again. Almost.
"Balthier! You're back!" Strahl's voice sounded in his mind, completing the familiar surroundings. "Wait, where's everyone else? Uh-oh… Something bad happened?"
Balthier scoffed. "You can say that again."
"Well, I… I won't pry. But if you need someone to listen, I'm all ears, okay? Though I know how much you love spilling your guts."
"Heh." Balthier managed a bit of a chuckle. "I… appreciate the thought."
Strahl said nothing, sitting in thoughtful silence.
Sitting down in his captain's seat, Balthier reached out and gripped the steering controls, the now-worn leather familiar under his hands. To think the last time he flew the biggest worry on his mind was how to handle traveling with Vossler.
"Find a seat, Vaan," Balthier said. The kid, apparently still not over his awe of airships, was still standing.
"Oh, right," Vaan said, plopping down in the nearest seat, just behind the copilot's.
"I haven't flown solo in years," Balthier commented as he pulled levers and such. Strahl's engines rumbled to life beneath his feet.
"Hey, I could help!" Vaan said, peering around the seat in front if him at the controls. "You know, if you'd… teach me?" He fixed Balthier with an imploring look.
Balthier let out a sigh. After everything else he'd found himself doing that day… "Why not?"
Vaan's face lit up. He practically jumped out of his chair and plopped down in the copilot's seat.
"So, what do I do?"
"Listen closely, because I have no intention of repeating myself," Balthier said. "First…"

…

They arrived back in Rabanastre just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Balthier could barely believe that day had begun in the tomb of Raithwall, springing with high hopes. How different it was now, as the sun set. Vaan turned out to be a fast learner, especially when it came to something he loved as much as airships. He copiloted nearly as well as Fran by the time they got back. For nothing in the world would Balthier have admitted he found their lesson enjoyable.
Arriving at the inn, Balthier and Vaan went straight upstairs. Balthier hoped everybody would be waiting for them and hadn't gotten captured by imperials or something catastrophic like that. Upstairs, the door to the room where they'd done their planning that afternoon stood ajar, spilling light into the dimly lit hallway.
"Hello?" Vaan leaned through the doorway, peering inside.
"Vaan!" Penelo came flying out of the room and threw her arms around her brother's neck. "There you are!"
"Penelo!" Vaan said. He peeked past her into the room. "Is everything alright? Where is everyone?"
"Oh, everything's fine. You've just been gone so long, I was worried."
"But where's everyone else?" Balthier said.
"Basch was out for a while, talking with the resistance members and telling them our plans. He got back a bit ago and went straight to bed." Penelo nodded at the door across the hallway, the second room they'd rented. "Fran slept most of the afternoon. Right after Basch got back, she said she needed some fresh air and went outside. I'm not sure where Princess Ashe is."
Balthier let out a sigh. "So much for staying put. Vaan, you go get some sleep, and I'll look for our wandering ladies."
Vaan nodded, and Balthier left him and Penelo without another word.

…

Up on the roof, fiery dusk light filled the sky, which seemed so close, here, above the city. After speaking with the attendant, Balthier learned Ashe was up here, on the roof. No word on Fran, but he'd deal with her afterwards.
Sure enough, there stood Ashe, out at the roof's edge, staring over the city; she hadn't heard Balthier's arrival at all. Smirking at her obliviousness, Balthier walked up beside her.
"So here's where you ran off to."
"Oh!" Ashe let out a gasp. "Balthier! You're back. Everything's alright?"
"Aside from you disappearing, yes."
"I didn't leave the inn," Ashe said.
"Well, I suppose not," Balthier replied.
Then there was silence, save the din of the last rush of traffic far below, faint and with no power over the peace up there, in the gentle evening breeze. Sunset light painted the buildings and streets with a smoldering, fiery hue, streaking across the barren desert from the horizon, where the sun sank away in a dazzling display of flames, beautiful in its dying moments. Balthier's gaze wandered from the sight far below to Ashe's face. Her eyes reflected the burning sunset, glittering with light from both outside and within. It was that same look they'd held on the Leviathan, when Balthier had met her as the princess for the first time: desperate, fading, doused a thousand times over, yet somehow still burning, still smoldering on, a single stubborn spark that refused to give out.
"It's a nice view," Balthier said, turning back towards the horizon. And he meant the sunset. Really.
"Mm." Ashe nodded. "I think it's going to rain soon. See?" Faint, wispy clouds gathered around the descending sun, glowing like embers so close to its light.
"It doesn't do that much around here, does it?" Balthier said. Ashe shook her head.
"Hardly ever. I always loved to watch it when it did. The water just pouring out of the sky, pooling on the dry ground… I'd sneak out of the palace all alone to see it, whatever time of day or night. Or sometimes it just to see the stars, or walk in the gardens and pretend I was someone normal. I guess I did that a lot." A smile lifted her face in happy memories. "When I was ten, Father assigned me a personal guardian of one his knight's squires to keep me out of trouble. He…" She trailed off, the lightness vanishing all in an instant.
"Vossler?" Balthier asked.
Ashe nodded with a heavy sigh. "I remember… the first time we met. I was out in the gardens; Father had told me to wait there until they arrived. I wasn't very happy that he thought I needed a bodyguard. I spotted Captain Basch and Vossler coming around the corner. I didn't see the captain very often back then, but I knew he was Father's friend. Vossler was only about Vaan's age. I could hear them arguing from all that way off; Vossler was saying how much he hated the idea of having to babysit me. And Basch just calmly said that he'd still have time for training, and that maybe playing nanny would finally teach him to control his temper." That smile started to return to Ashe's lips but died before it could manifest. She raised one hand to her face, resting it on her cheek where Vossler had touched in his final moments. "He said…" Her eyes glistened as she summoned the painful memory. "He said he… Oh, it was never like that!" Her desperate gaze met Balthier's for the first time that evening. "The thought never once crossed my mind before, but now, looking back, I… Oh, Balthier, I don't know how I missed it! He was my friend! My big brother! My protector! I never thought… But if… if I'd notice, then maybe… maybe-"
"Ashe!" Balthier cut her off as fresh tears sprang to her eyes. "It was his place to say. Every choice Vossler made was his own; you can't blame yourself." But maybe if I'd gotten there a little sooner, he wouldn't have had to die…
Ashe sucked in a deep breath and nodded slowly. She turned back to the brilliant sunset, now fading away as the clouds grew thicker.
"But… Vossler always handled everything. I don't know if I can do this without him. I… I…"
"Just give it your all, princess," Balthier replied. "That's all any of us can do."
"I… guess," Ashe said. Midnight black, creeping up from the eastern horizon, covered more and more of the sky, drawing closer to that single fiery point where the sun breathed its last.
"You are coming with us, aren't you, Balthier?" Ashe said, turning to him suddenly.
"Yes, I believe I said that," Balthier replied.
"But… But… There wasn't anything in Raithwall's Tomb like I'd hoped," Ashe said. "And I certainly can't pay you anything this time. Why-"
"I don't care about payment," Balthier said, rolling his eyes. "Do you not want me to come, Ashe?"
"Oh, no!" Ashe shook her head violently. "I just… I… Thank you."
Balthier let out a chuckle. "Don't get your hopes up, princess. I'm no hero."
Ashe didn't reply, but the desperation in her blue eyes faded somewhat. Vossler last words rang again in Balthier's mind; keep her safe, won't you? I will, he'd replied. Balthier couldn't remember making the choice to say those words. They'd come from some other man in a much more coherent state of mind, with enough control of his faculties to make such a vow to a dying man. But the relief on Vossler's face, a tiny drop of peace in an ocean of pain and guilt… Balthier couldn't imagine he'd have said anything different.
"Did you happen to see where Fran went, Ashe?" Balthier asked, pulling out of the memory.
"Just outside," Ashe replied. "She said she wanted to clear her head."
Balthier nodded. "Right. Well then, I'll go look for her. Come in soon, princess."
Ashe nodded, and Balthier, turning, left her there at the edge and walked back towards the door that led inside.
"Balthier, wait!" Balthier stopped as Ashe called after him. Ashe half opened her mouth, but hesitated.
"What is it?" Balthier said, now thoroughly curious.
"Well, I just…" Ashe stammered. "I thought… While you were fighting… Vossler, well, I saw… I don't what I saw."
"I need a little more to go on than that, princess," Balthier said, but he knew exactly what she was talking about. The tides turning suddenly? A flash of unexplainable light? A surging, uncontrollable force, blowing back the enemy, that even Balthier couldn't explain? At the mere thought, that clinging static that had irritated him all day erupted into that same churning energy. It took all of Balthier's willpower to keep the pain of it off his face, and keep that power crushed down inside him. Still? It's still going off?
"I guess it was probably nothing," Ashe continued. "There was-" she broke off, frowning. "Are you alright, Balthier?"
"Of course, I'm just fine," Balthier replied, maybe too quickly. He just wanted to get out of there. "Uh… goodnight, Ashe."
He turned and walked through the door before she could say another word, shutting it behind him. As soon as it was closed, Balthier leaned back against the door, breathing hard. He clenched one hand against his chest as the cold, twisting forces there slinked slowly away.
"And stay there!" he hissed through clenched teeth. Talking to it seemed absurd on some levels, but in a way, that power really did feel alive, like some creature, restless after a long sleep, growing more and more so every time he let it taste freedom. It had never been this bad before; nothing had even happened that time, and that power still reared its ugly head. If he could learn to master it, it would be very useful, but Balthier would settle for it just disappearing like it had for so many years.
Balthier shook his head, banishing these pointless speculations. The surge was receding now, hiding back away in its dark cave. Besides, he had a wandering Viera to find.

…

It was dark as Balthier walked from the inn's front door into the streets of Rabanastre. The beautiful sunset was nothing more than a dusky line on the horizon now, vanishing as the darkness engulfed it. Rainclouds blotted out every star that would have shown its face in the dense blackness above. Balthier supposed such a storm must be a joyous occasion for the desert city of Rabanastre, but there was something distinctly ominous about the brooding rainclouds overhead, waiting to let loose their heavy load. The flickering lamps along the now quiet roads did nothing to lighten the atmosphere.
"Fran?" Balthier called as he walked down the roadside. He figured Fran couldn't have gone too far, and yet, there was no reply but the echo of his own voice.
"Fran!" he called again. Again, his voice echoed back at him. Balthier sighed; apparently, he did have a ways to walk.
"Balthier?" The voice took Balthier so by surprise, he nearly jumped. He spun to face it; there stood Fran, in the alleyway beside the inn, half hidden by the dense shadows.
"Fran? What are you doing out here?" Balthier asked.
"I just… needed to think," Fran replied. She seemed very flustered, as far as Fran went.
"About what?" Balthier asked.
"It's… nothing," Fran said, shaking her head.
"So you can come back to the inn, now?" Balthier said.
Fran let out a sigh, breaking her usual expressionlessness. "No. Balthier… I need to talk to you."
"About what?" Balthier asked. He didn't like how somber she sounded.
"In here." Fran retreated farther into the shadowy alleyway, and Balthier followed. It was even darker in there than out in the street.
"So?" Balthier said. "What is it?"
"I… Oh," Fran shook her head. "No, this… this is a bad idea."
"Fran!" Balthier said with an exasperated sigh. "This has gone on long enough. Can I even trust you anymore?" Silence. "Fran? I'm waiting."
Fran sighed, then began. It was a poem, or something. Whatever it was, it confused Balthier greatly.
"The places where it warps and twists, the pathways of the shattered myst, will speak of ancient foes reborn.
"The evil shall be reborn yet, though ages pass and time forgets, it lurks beneath the surface still.
"Erase the evil, they may try, but such a darkness cannot die, for it shall rise to reign again.
"The darkness hides within its slaves, beware even the lightest shade, where lies this sign, the shattered myst."
"Okay," Balthier said when she'd finished, thoroughly baffled. "It's… poetry, I guess. It's what you said up on the Leviathan, at least, the first part is. I still don't get what you're trying to tell me."
"It's a warning," Fran said. "An ancient song passed down by the Viera people. It tells us to watch for an ancient force of evil that will return to scourge all Ivalice. And the sign by which it is known… Myst flows ever on. Our magic and magicite only divert it. To see myst strike an object or person and break, shatter, would be… hard to miss."
"Alright. So it's folklore," Balthier said with a shrug. "Certainly sounds eerie, but it's hardly relevant. And what does it have to do with… me…? Oh…"
Balthier trailed off as the meaning behind Fran's words slowly came to him. He hoped desperately that he was wrong.
"The shattered myst…" Fran fixed her gaze on Balthier. "I see it."
Denial was something Balthier had grown very good at over the years. A thousand excuses erupted immediately in his mind about how Fran had to be wrong, but something in the resounding echo of those verses, and something echoing with unnatural glee deep inside him, told Balthier there was no denying this.
"Can I… trust you?" Fran said. In her eyes was that look she'd born a thousand times, though Balthier had never recognized it. No, he'd known all along, just never wanted to admit it. It was terror, plain and simple.
"I-I…" Balthier tried to speak, but his mouth was too dry. He could feel that power awaken again at the mere thought of it, its dark flames licking upward towards freedom. Fran's eyes widened, and she took a step back, tensed to run. If Balthier needed any more proof of what it was Fran saw, or what that song spoke of, he had it.
"No! Fran, wait! I… I-I…" The words wouldn't come. What was he even trying to say? The poem that had so confused him before echoed in Balthier's mind, each line with a terrifying familiarity. The darkness hides within its slave, beware even the lightest shade… for such an evil cannot die… ancient foes reborn…
Balthier felt more tired and more defeated than he ever had. One more voice joined the cacophony of that ancient rhyme, words Balthier had been trying to forget since he heard them. What are you?
Then strength to stand left him, and Balthier found himself on his knees on the cold ground.
"Oh, I… I always knew it'd be something like that," Balthier mumbled, half to himself. "How I ever convinced myself… it wasn't that bad…"
A crack of thunder cut off his feverish mumbling. Balthier felt a drop of cold water on his face, then the heavens opened. The clatter of rain drowned out the still silence of Rabanastre's night. Water pooled on the ground, turning the dust beneath him to mud. Balthier felt the water running down his face, but its chill was nothing compared to the icy flames that burned within.
Fran knelt in front of Balthier, also drenched from the sudden downpour. The terror in her eyes was gone. There was fear, trepidation, but not that fight-or-flight terror. She said nothing, but that she simply hadn't ran away was better medicine than any word.
"Fran, that song…" Balthier said, the whisper he could manage barely audible about the rain. "There was… more?"
"You want to hear it?" Fran asked.
"No," Balthier replied. "But I have to."
So Fran began a long refrain that would ring in his ears for years to come.