Chapter Seventeen

A/N: I really want to start getting chapters out much more quickly, I apologize for the delay. I'm working to try to make that happen as we speak, thank you for putting up with me!

He awoke at the drop of his head, the swinging motion of the dead weight lunging against gravity, jerking him back awake before nodding off once more. The vice-like grip on his stomach clenched tighter and he shuddered through the spasm. Rubbing his small belly weakly, he surmised that his best bet was to drink more water again until he was so full of the stuff, he couldn't think to take in a single bite of food, as a means to distract himself from the lack thereof.

He turned his tired head to the table in the kitchen, his gaze riveted almost longingly at the bowl of bread crusts sitting in the middle within the dark. There was no smell to beckon the senses. No sight to entice his interest. Only the knowledge that it was there. As his mouth began to salivate, he shook his head firmly, refocusing and reaffirming his fortitude. The cast offs within the bowl had been given to them by a neighbor and they were for the child asleep in the room beyond, not for himself.

Their father had left with his employers' company for a goods exchange with Burmercia and had been due back days ago. He knew not if it was permissible to ask for more food or to go beyond the houses alongside their own to inquire. His father had always taken pride in his ability to provide and the boy had never needed to ask for such things before.

But father hadn't come home.

And Arlo had not eaten for two days.

Sitting in the quiet darkness of their tiny, modest home, he wrapped his arms around his knees as he leaned his head against the wall, unsure of what to do about their predicament.

He was used to being alone, just himself and little Milo. His father had explained to him that he was a man, and a man had responsibilities. And Milo was his.

'So think,' he thought soundlessly, berating himself for his lack of plans, as if he wasn't a boy of only seven.

Within that bowl upon that empty table was only but a mound of ends left. By tomorrow night, there would be nothing left for his younger brother to eat. And as for himself, he didn't know how much longer he could hold out for his father's return.

He winced, followed by a shudder as his empty stomach twisted once again, as if in spite. His vision began to dim, the room growing darker as he grappled with lucidity.

He could hear the mechanisms of a clock tick-tocking from the hall, the only source of anything stirring with the dreadfully silent house.

After a time, he began to wake, muffled low sounds, deep and rumbling, stirring him from his unintentional slumber. He told himself to open his eyes, scolding himself for falling asleep upon the floor rather than his bed. As his consciousness grew more alert, the sounds themselves then grew tumultuous, like distorted rolling thunder; hostile and ominous.

His head swam as he turned to look around, trying to discern the direction of the noise but it was coming from all around him.

Outside.

But where?

His eyelids blinked rapidly in an attempt to focus, but he was so very tired.

Shifting his legs in order to get the blood within them circulating, his sluggish body was beginning to feel the effects of starvation.

He made to stand and then stumbled, throwing out a hand against the wall for purchase, his head swimming. But even in his crumbling cognitive functions, he knew somehow that all was not right just within himself alone.

And then the very wall that had aided him shook, the lone light in the hallway suddenly going dark.

Despite the growing chaos that had met his auditory perception of things unknown beyond the barriers of his home, he noticed that the ticking of the clock within the hall had ceased.

Milo, he thought, pushing himself toward his younger brother's room, unsure of what was transpiring outside yet fearful of the disturbances that were clearly taking place in his home alone, needing to find comfort that his one responsibility remained intact and well.

But he didn't need to go far. Within mere steps, his sight zeroed in on a small silhouette at the end of the hall, the voice of the child overly tired and somewhat weak.

"Arwo," he yawned, tugging at the hem of his little shirt," hungee," he called out, toddling forward.

Arlo nodded in understanding, momentarily confused, his mind running amiss as to what he had been worried about just moments before.

Milo was hungry and he would feed him what they had left. But there was something else. Something or some reason as to the apprehension that clutched at his chest moments before that his distracted thinking couldn't seem to grasp upon as his eyesight began to flicker once more.

But he didn't need to think upon the matter for long.

As if the din around them had evaporated into the darkness, the front door had swung open. And within the threshold was a hulking shadow of a mass, dark and indefinable except for two burning orbs where it's head might be.

Like a cascade of gelid water from the most barren tundra surging around him, his clarity instantly sharpened with the aid of newfound adrenaline. And once his senses not only returned to him but heightened in intensity, he could once again hear the outside world beyond his home.

Explosions, screaming, crumbling mass structures, hysteria.

And even though he knew not the source nor the reason, he could deduce quite effortlessly that the thing at his door was part of the chaos that could be heard beyond his walls.

His head whipped away from the thing to his younger brother, Milo also pausing to stare at the strange entity that was entering their home.

Then it paused too, it's head turning in a curiously slow fashion to look at the smaller child at the opposite end of the house, as if sedately assessing the situation it now found itself in.

And then it began to walk toward Milo, seemingly propelled with purpose that quickened it's movement, it's arm lifting with something aglow within its palm as it marched it's way toward the child.

But then it stumbled, grasping for it's head and crashing against the wall of the hall as Arlo cried out in effort, only looking for a moment at the fragments of a kitchen chair splintering off in an array of directions as he had sent it striking down in a horrid fashion against the things skull. Running past without bothering to look behind as he raced for his brother, he scooped up a now frightened Milo who began crying aloud in fright, pointing behind them fearfully.

Arlo looked back as he lodged a window open, only for a moment, to see the thing gaining its wits about it once more as it stood to make its way toward them.

And then he left it as far behind them as he could, jumping out of the window and into the alley behind their home, holding Milo against his chest with a vice like grip, as if he was a man of eighteen rather than seven.

He reached the edge of the walled pathway to the town beyond and what met his sight was perfect horror.

Homes and businesses alike were set aflame as people cried out and raced from structure to streets to be met by more of the strange, hulking men dressed in strange clothing, not unlike the one within his own house; fire and lightning racing from their palms to engulf anything and anyone within their paths.

He could smell the burning of wood and charred flesh, the screams about him not merely those of fright but of unspeakable pain as well. Even more damning was when that particular sound was suddenly snuffed out, making his insides chill and tremble simultaneously, not wanting to look about him.

But he raised his head nonetheless. And assessed the chaos around him.

Because they needed a way out.

"Arwo…" Milo whispered tearfully, unable to wrench his face away from his older brother's chest despite his struggling, his little legs tightening around the older boy's torso.

"Don't look," Arlo whispered fiercely, stroking the child's hair in a brief show of comfort as he watched various neighbors of theirs succumb to their injuries or unable to escape the fires set alight within their homes, trapped.

His head looked to the sky at the sound of turbines overhead, watching as airships passed within the darkness of the night. A moment of newfound hope sparked within him before watching in dread as the entire fleet of three fell from the heavens and into the city beyond, followed by a roarous calamity of sound that almost drowned out the populace's terror but for a moment.

The beings littered about the town were definitely other. And all round them, people were being massacred. Without a doubt, this was an invasion.

The only thing faster than an airship in Lindblum were Air Cabs and they would no doubt be able to get anyone out of the Business District in record time. But even Arlo could surmise that if their airships could not stay aloft within the sky, then their second fastest public transit was most likely already lost to them.

How did this happen?

And so quickly?

Why?

These things didn't live here. These creatures didn't know the city like they did, meaning the monsters would keep to the main roads, where all the people were.

Without a second thought to his plan, Arlo slunk back into the darkness of the alley, turning course before reaching the window that led to his house. His feet collided against the cobblestones that divided the Keats and various neighbors between each other's backdoors. Every now and then his focus shook only momentarily as he heard panicked screams and shouts of alarm between himself and their homes.

He couldn't help the adults around him. He could only do his very best for Milo. And he was sorry for it. But his brother was the one thing he couldn't take the chance to sacrifice in order to risk helping another.

So he ran. And ran. And ran within the darkness of the dirtiest, poorest, thug infested alleys hidden beyond the reputable streets, not knowing where or how he found the strength, only praying and hoping the Grand Castle within the city center had the means to provide refuge.

If it was even still standing, that is.

Even upon the Red Rose, the man could feel the ground quaking all the hundreds of feet below.

The wind about them began to pick up as something indefinable began to rise from the ground beneath them all.

Although he could not yet see it, he could hear the foundation of the Gaian earth below crack and snap, straining to release a powerful element born from it's very crystal and out onto the land that encapsulated it.

The air thickened and rose, thrashing around everything and everyone, his hair whipping in all directions. He didn't take purchase against the sides of the ships like the guards around him. He accepted the chaos and stood ever still with his arms crossed over his chest, his stance widening to brace himself, wanting to see the might unfold before him.

The eidolon rose within the air, slowly and ever so deadly, it's mouth agape in such a manner as if to swallow the world whole. An impressive city state stood before it, it's structures and populace suddenly seeming insignificant and undeserving in the face of such a creation.

Kuja did not hear the Queen cackle upon the bow of the ship, as his ears detected something most horrendous and more riotous than the devastation that was being wrought below.

It was Atomos.

Silent to all but himself and his summoner most assuredly had she been present, was a howling plea, as if it's shrieking was violently lacerating into the mage's very chest, begging to be heard.

The eidolon was screaming for it's summoner, it's deep, gravelly voice calling out to her, imploring, longing, questioning.

Did her soul not feel as if it was being shredded and divided as it was?

The genome gasped, unblinking, yet realizing he had been so immersed in the creatures' frenzied agony that he had forgotten to breathe.

No one noticed however, as they all held on to whatever part of the ship they could grasp as their Queen continued to howl in demented hysteria, her smile a sad mockery of the jaws of the eidolon before them, as if the flesh at the sides of her mouth would tear and bleed at any moment.

"Take it away!" she shouted at the ancient soul, her voice a bloated command, unhinged and cheerful," Take it all away! Their happiness, their arrogance, their glory, all the things I have had to live without! Show them the repercussions of being joyous while leaving me behind in my grief!"

Kuja's gaze shifted to her momentarily to see the tears streaming down her face as she smiled feverishly before turning back to watch the command executed in calamitous devastation.

Atomos weeped in an uproarious harsh cry that only Kuja could hear yet was unable to deny the directive and did as it was bid. And to the sorcerer's astonishment, the cavernous, seemingly depthless pit that made up it's mouth grew even wider in a generous display of what horror by consumption meant.

He could not unlatch his gaze from the enormous ragged teeth that edged the entirety of the things mouth on all four sides of its jaw, stopping himself from shuddering at the thought of any unfortunate soul who would find themselves caught upon them rather than sucked within the belly of the beast.

His thoughts circulated to Garnet, revisiting his notions once more that despite the very "goodness" of the child, she was indeed comprised of very dark attributes. When he had witnessed Odin's descent, it had not been a shining knight in gilded armor that had rained forth but a dark executioner upon an otherworldly steed whose eyes bled crimson annihilation.

There was something foreboding about the nature of her summons.

It didn't take much to marvel why it was that these beings instilled fear within his creator. Witnessing as he did now made it seem impossible that his own salvation lie in such cataclysmic things.

And in the strangest blow he had ever seen dealt, he watched as Atomos merely inhaled, the force of the motion earth-shaking as windows and heavily bolted doors alike shattered and the foundations of buildings began to crumble loose within the air. Lindblum soldiers, the city's residents, as well as his very own black mages rose along with it all. Kuja watched as some of their bodies striked against the airborne debris in such a manner that insured instantaneous death before they could even reach the jaws of the eidolon that meant to consume them. He imagined there were screams. Hundreds of them. Yet he could not hear them for the vacuum of Atomos drawing in the air and everything before it.

Bodies, walls, the very foundations of structures as well as indefinable things rose and fell back into the depths of the titans jaws for a time that seemed much too long for such an abominable act. Objects of households, gifts imbued with memories, items so ordinary or so very precious aloft and gone, never to be seen again.

What was more dreadful? Those that had been eaten or those that had managed to remain in order to see it all unfold?

It was wretched.

It was atrocious.

He would never forget it.

He didn't fight it, for there was nothing that could compare: he shuddered.

Not one of the hardened soldiers around him, not even General Beatrix herself, uttered a word until it was over.

White flags hailed from the Grand Castle, some breaking instantly from their pikes to succumb to the floating eidolon.

Atomos screamed silently to deaf ears once more in abandoned heartbreak before being retracted by Brahne's command.

And in coarsened resolve, the General announced that victory had been theirs, and that they were to ascend to the Grand Castle of Lindblum.

Disgusting.

All of them.

How was it not physically visible to all that laid their eyes upon him that they could not see the way his skin crawled?

Regent Cid stood before his conquers with more dignity as an insect than the bloated queen that gloated before him, her entourage silent in a strained and solemn manner behind her.

Brahne.

What a filthy name it had become. She did not dare to take on his armada or his army with her own strength, but rather, she had massacred his citizens through burning hellfire, electrocution, and most horrendously, devoured by something more foul than the dregs of his worst nightmares.

And yet here she stood. Gleeful and triumphant. As if she had bested his state with might and dignity. The blood awash her soul was wider than the ocean that separated their continent from the next. Never would she acquire the means to atone for such sins.

Oh Alexander, Cid thought regrettably, what has become of your bride?

Flanked by her left was her fierce General that he had once held in immense esteem. And to her right was a man the likes of which he had never seen. Breathtakingly beautiful and so very tall, yet Cid couldn't help but think the youth was in ill fit company.

The man was most certainly dressed the part in high-priced material and battle armour, and the way in which his piercing gaze drew in all that he could catch sight of didn't hint at inquisitive observations but rather, a perspicacity for any given situation he might find himself in. Yet despite this unknown person who was clearly a covetous asset to Her Majesty, he didn't have the aura of his Alexandrian compatriots. Cid couldn't define it in so many words as to the why and how but he knew without a doubt that he wasn't one of them.

And the question was, did they know it?

The General of the Rose Guard nor the strange young man flinched when it was revealed that Regent Cid Fabool IX was reduced to an oglop. Beatrix merely dictated his new assumed role under the Alexandrian Empire while her Queen guffawed in an unstately fashion, pointing and jeering like an ill-mannered child.

And the man at her side looked at him with eyes that had widened ever so slightly in what appeared as nearly veiled interest, but nothing more, the rest of his features giving away nothing.

Accords were yet to be drawn up by Her Majesty's dignitary, yet her General wasted no time in dispensing her troops to occupy the various districts of his state. Her Queen had sniffed primly at the interior of his industrialized palace, as if she found the efficiency in it's construct and functions inferior, ostentatiously declaring that rather than occupy rooms within the Grand Castle, she would be returning to her ship.

He was all the glader for it. He didn't bother to watch her back as she exited the throne room, turning away to assume a seat warily before he heard the doors close behind himself. And as he did, he quickly noted that his minister remained standing, his attention drawn elsewhere, as were his guard.

Following their gaze, he nearly jumped at the silver-haired man leaning against the shuttered doors, bewildered, his heart promptly pumping with adrenaline as to what this sudden presence and it's repercussions would entail.

"I apologize for the unexpected surprise, but it would be highly suspicious if I had begged for a private audience with the Regent," the youthful man implored politely, his smile purposefully mimicking an act of mock conspiracy.

"And you will not receive it," Artania quietly voiced decidedly.

The man eyed the few soldiers in the room as they gripped their swords in response. He wasn't the least bit perturbed.

"I would not ask for something so exclusive," he assured, pulling away from the doors and walking toward the center of the room, comfortable and unthreatened," This would do just fine."

He pulled a chair out next to Cid and looked at the oglop with a raised brow for permission. The insect gave a small inclination of his head in turn and watched as the bewitching man folded himself upon the furniture elegantly, an act of practiced precision despite the effortless style in which he executed it.

Cid understood the allure this man had. With just his outward appearance alone, he could court the favor of anyone within a room. Yet he was most curious as to his other attributes. The ones that had acquired him a place at a monarch's side. One's that made him seem so at ease upon enemy territory as he did now.

"What is your name?" Artania called behind him, purposely lacking any respectful decorum that he would bestow to anyone else.

But the young man wasn't bothered in the least, merely throwing a hand over his shoulder without looking upon the Minister.

"That information is insignificant," he responded, his voice still retaining it's friendly charm, despite his presence being anything but.

Cid could not look away from him. He drank everything in. Every movement, every word, every breath he drew in.

Artania then signalled to a soldier who nodded in turn and exited the room swiftly on silent orders.

The silver-haired man looked to Cid amusedly, his smile bright and hinging on a laugh,"Did your Artania just send someone to go sniff me out?"

The Regent merely nodded, not yet sure what it is that he wanted to say, too absorbed in his observations as he was.

"Why not merely give it if we can so easily procure it? If us knowing your name matters not to you in the end?" Artania almost barked, a rare show of anger rising.

"Because the timing isn't quite right," the youth merely shrugged, finally looking to the minister to flash him a wicked grin.

"Then why is it that you're here?" Cid asked earnestly, gently.

The armoured man turned back to the Regent, resting an elbow at his knee in order to prop a cheek upon a fist.

"I imagine you'll find out plenty about me in a short amount of time. But that's not what I wanted to discuss."

His eyes softened then, his open smile turning into a closed one as he gazed at the Regent, seemingly satisfied by what it was that he saw.

"I am merely begging an indulgence. I'm quite curious as to how you have found yourself in this state? Hmm?"

Cid shrugged in turn, curious as to the direction their conversation had taken, cautious with his words.

"I made an irrevocable offense against my wife. This is merely my due," he supplied simply, his small beady eyes locking onto deceptive blue ones.

"And yet you've still managed to hold down an entire government," the young man responded with open admiration, for once relinquishing the mask he had maintained throughout their brief exchange.

And then he leaned forward, whispering so that only himself and the Regent could hear," I would not have come so far had I chosen you. I imagine your Chief Advisor and Minister wouldn't have let me come within a district of you."

The silver-haired man leaned back and stood, his bell like sleeves heavy as they fell gently to cover what appeared to be devious hands.

"There is so much I would like to talk with you about. But there is simply no time," the man replied with open honesty, a soft smile returning.

He turned to leave and it was then that Cid finally spoke, his words wiping the smile from the youth's face, causing his head to turn with eyes widened in newfound regard.

"Someone like you, I imagine, know's all kinds of things. Much like my Minister, you have a way of detecting and rooting out information in all manner of methods, I assume. As such, I also surmise that you are aware that Princess Garnet is indeed a substitute for the natural born daughter of Kind til Alexandros."

The youth responded, clearly taken aback by the unexpected turn in their discussion, but awfully intrigued.

"Indeed, I am," he broached, his voice indicating that it was the Regent's turn to go on.

"The hardest part for her, when acclimating herself to her new role, was imitating the Alexandrian accent. No one would dare question it presently, her tongue has most definitely become an example of elocution and execution. And it's a rare person who knows the truth that she is a stand in. Yet for those who do know, if you listen quite closely, you can still detect scarce hints of her mother tongue hidden within inflections of some of her words. It's the damnedest thing."

The young man's mouth barely opened before sliding closed once more.

And then he smiled, bowing with all the propriety and correctness of Alexandrian nobility.

"To be sure, I would not have made it far with you by a long shot," he acknowledged respectfully before turning to the doors, making his exit.

When they could no longer hear the metallic steps of their uninvited guest, Artania immediately moved to his Regent, bending down fastidiously, waiting not a moment for his command.

"You were right to send out for information. But I fear whatever we discover might not be enough. But do not relent. Brahne will go no further for the moment now that she has won. But that man. That man intends to be the ruin of us all, I can feel it," Cid instructed bitterly, his tiny fists clenching in frustration.

"Dispatch all informants available to us, leave nothing unturned. We're running out of time!" he commanded, all individuals in the room nodding in turn, his meaning clear, resonating with them all.

"If only we knew how much time we had," Artania queried fearfully, his voice solemn.

He had wondered how such a kingdom as Burmercia had fallen in the course of mere days. But now he was quite certain he now knew. And it didn't bode well for them all.

Especially for Alexandria, Cid couldn't help but fear.

Kuja could hear the clicking of his boots as he shuffled down the main staircase, away from the throne room.

What a find Cid Fabool had been. If only there had been more time. That was one individual that he could spare hours for in immersive conversation. So long had he been surrounded by women of power, that the Regent of Lindblum had barely hinted at interest within his curiosity.

He couldn't help but to admit that recently he believed the majority of his glory was due strictly to his Minister and Chief Advisor but he could no longer concur that that was the case. Cid was his own man and a force to be reckoned with, for sure.

In but a matter of but a few short minutes of conversation, he had sniffed him out as a foreigner. And if he could have detected such so quickly, then in no time at all he would be rife with information concerning the genome.

And he smiled.

In admiration.

In respect.

And in the futility of it all.

Because the point of fact was, they were all simply out of time.

A/N: Hilda will finally be back in the next chapter, if anyone is interested in still seeing her, that is. Once again, thank you for putting up with me and reading this thing, getting to hear from any of you is one of the best things that happens to me and it's more than I deserve.