The water below comes up over my ankles, soaking through my boots. The sewers reek, as expected. Perhaps, if I grew up here, I might've spent much more time playing in this underground wreckage. For now, it's merely an escape route from the cause of my life's troubles: authority. My nose crinkles upon seeing three bodies floating in the shallow water. Balthier hums, looking over their skimpy armor skeptically.
"Insurgents. Most like they thought to take advantage of a lax watch while the fete's on... to feed the good consul a length of steel for his supper." He crosses his arms, tossing a look over his shoulder. "I should think Vayne used to such hospitality."
"Clever," I mutter, earning the questioning looks of the others. "He used himself as the bait to draw them near, and then sent in the air brigade. He looks innocent through the entire ordeal."
"A fine, bloody banquet," Balthier sighs, looking over the loose white sleeves covering his arms. "Hmph. I daresay I've soiled my cuffs. If a dungeon's waiting for us at the end of the night, it had best have a change of wardrobe."
"While I appreciate your deep concerns for your appearance, I do believe we have greater issues at hand," I butt in, shooting him a smug smile. His expression is unamused, annoyed. With a "hmph" he walks past with Fran at his heels.
Hardly a moment after a squeak resonates through the open space, an arrow flies into a massive rat's side. Blood stains the water red as Fran lowers her bow, Vaan gawking shamelessly. Sighing, I pull my spear free. So that's how it'll be. Lady Luck, why have you abandoned me? Balthier raises an eyebrow, looking me over.
"What?" I demand, resting my free hand on my hip. He shrugs.
"Despite having seen you wield it before, it seems that spear doesn't suit you."
"Well, I suppose you have yet to prove your mental capacity," I retort, watching Vaan fight a smile. Balthier only chuckles.
"With that spirit, I thought you might know how to wear a shirt properly."
Vaan bursts into laughter, pulling a dagger from a short sheathe at his hip and hurrying to kill another rat. Balthier fires his gun with one hand, effectively ending the life of a second rodent. I frown, looking down at the loose white shirt covering my body. Light twine laced across the top of a plunging neckline holds it together; he can't mean that, unless he's a prude that's offended by skin. I know that can't be true, looking at Fran. With that attitude, I doubt he sees much more than that viera anyway. I scoff. Says the man with a rainbow across his knuckles.
The sewers are endless tunnels that crawl on forever, smelling of stagnant water and rot. Rats and steelings alike flutter above and below. I skewer a rodent before swatting a flapping annoyance out of my face, watching the steeling collapse to the ground. Easy. Everyone's guard is up, and it's not because of the monsters. I don't care about the thief; these pirates have me on edge. Balthier begins to hum a tune as he strolls, one I vaguely remember but can't place. Fran picks off another rat easily, turning her nose upward.
"A strange scent in the air," she comments. Balthier merely raises an eyebrow, resting his hefty gun on his shoulder
"Today's my lucky day!" Vaan calls, running toward an urn to our left that I would have missed otherwise. The patterns of both merge in a way that leaves me cross-eyed.
The boy throws the deep blue lid into the murky water and digs into the deep pot. I stand a good foot away from Balthier and Fran, glancing at them warily before watching the thief pull a jingling pouch free with a grin. He turns back, grinning proudly at the three of us before running past to lead the way. He slips the pouch into a fold of his sash taking his knives back out to fight a shrieking steeling.
Shooting the pirates a sly look, I dive forward, rolling to my feet and purposely knocking Vaan onto his face. I "accidentally" catch myself on his back, pushing myself to my feet fifty gil richer. I drop the small, burlap pouch down the front of my shirt, stabbing the steeling from the air. Blood flows down my spear and I flick it off. Balthier shakes his head, amused, as Vaan shouts at me, demanding that I play fair.
"Silence!" Fran hisses suddenly, nodding toward the ledge up above us.
The sounds of a skirmish overpower that of the sewer water, several heavily armored soldiers cornering a woman at the edge of the top floor. Gritting out a battle cry, the woman slashes a sword across one guard's head, his body falling into the water below.
"Who would be next?!" she demands. The soldiers don't back down.
"Close ranks! Bring her down!" one orders, raising his blade defensively.
Vaan, watching the girl back away with wide eyes, rushes forward to offer his help.
"Jump down!" he shouts, waving an arm in the air. I huff, ducking my head when the imperial officers look at us. "Hurry!" The woman looks between Vaan and her enemies, sword raised hesitantly. Finally, she swivels around and makes a leap of faith, arms spread and eyes squeezed shut. I wince when Vaan catches her, the two breathing sighs of relief.
"She's not alone!"
"Our ranks grow by the hour," Fran sighs, staring at the woman. Balthier hurries forward as the guards drop down around us.
"And our troubles with them."
The gate clangs shut behind him; I raise my lance, eyes narrowed on the enemy. If we're to fight them, I suppose it doesn't matter if they recognize me or not. They can't lock me away anywhere when I'm dead. The woman drops down from Vaan's arms, bashing a guard away with her shield and straightening her short, bright pink skirt. I shake my head, blocking a soldier's strike over my head and kicking another man to the ground as he tries to charge from behind. Working quickly, I thrust my spear underneath the first's helmet and rip it free before taking out the other.
Blood stains the water even before Balthier's gun blasts a final shot, diluted but crimson all the same. I sigh, putting my spear on my back and crossing my arms. The woman watches us carefully through cropped blonde bangs, hair brushing over her shoulders when she turns to mark out each of us. Blood drips slowly from a cut in her arm, running along her pale skin and soaking into the guard on her right wrist.
"You alright?" Vaan asks, stepping forward.
"Thank you," she nods, offering a gentle smile.
"Um... I'm Vaan."
"And this is Balthier and—Hey!" he protests.
I turn to see Balthier walking away, stopping with a huff when Vaan shouts at him. Rolling his eyes, the sky pirate waits impatiently. As for me, I only wish to escape this disgusting hideaway and head for a rest at the Sand Sea. A drink would do me well right about now.
"What's your name?" Vaan asks innocently, smiling at the young woman. She frowns. Odd.
"Amalia."
"Amalia, huh? Nice to meet you."
I scoff, crossing my arms. Can we get this show on the road? I have nothing against Vaan making a friend or two, but now is not the time. Amalia turns, pacing a few steps away from the boy.
"There were others with me—"
"I'm sorry," Fran murmurs, shaking her head.
"No..." Amalia breathes, closing her eyes.
I frown as a glow flickers brightly in Vaan's pocket. The boy frowns, pulling the magicite free. It casts a golden glow across his youthful face and my heart practically begs me to snatch it and run as fast as I can.
"Oh, now isn't that impressive?" Balthier comments, resting his hands on his hips.
"Don't get any ideas. I said it's mine," Vaan snaps defensively. But it won't be as soon as I find a way to grab it.
"I'm afraid the jury's still out on that one," the sky pirate counters, cocking his head to the side. Amalia's face falls into a darker expression.
"You stole that?"
"Yeah!" Vaan replies proudly, holding the magicite out for her to see. It's glow dies at her presence. Fran exchanges a glance with Balthier, turning to the thief with a dry look.
"Have you finished? When the guards don't come in, they'll come looking for us."
"If they aren't already," Balthier adds, straightening.
"The Fates are against me today," I mutter, shaking my head.
"You should come with us," Vaan offers excitedly. "Better than being by yourself." We hardly know this woman. I shrug. Then again, we hardly know each other's names and we're stuck together. Amalia pulls her shoulders back, walking past me and Fran without sparing a glance.
"Very well."
"What's wrong with her?" the boy frowns, watching her go, white shirt swishing around her sides gently. Such a contrast to the more rugged appearances of her new companions. Balthier huffs, looking back at him pointedly, his voice firm.
"You have a lot to learn before we even get started on your thievery."
"What's that mean?" Vaan asks, his head tilted just the slightest bit. Blonde hair falls into his gray eyes as he does so.
"You're less than adequate at your newfound hobby," I clarify with a sneer, brushing past him to follow Amalia. Balthier simply sighs, joining with Fran at his side. The fair-haired woman stops walking, turning to face us. Her fingers pull at the tight metal guards covering her legs.
"The situation requires I accept such help as I find, though it be from thieves." She crosses her arms, eyes filled with determination. "I shall accompany until we find my companions. No longer."
"Let's think of her as a guest, then," Balthier utters to Vaan. "She'll leave when she pleases. So, we keep to our affairs and she to hers. I doubt we'll find her wanting in valor, being such an upstanding member of the insurgence."
"Resistance," Amalia corrects, eyes narrowed. "And don't speak as if I'm not here." She straightens, turning to face the sewer passages. "Well, what are we waiting for?" You?
Taking on a steady pace, we head up the next staircase and enter a broad, open room. Already, goosebumps raise on my skin and I can tell something is going to go terribly wrong. As it turns out, I am correct. Over the sounds of running water comes the gurgling of three dirty, yellow flan bubbling up from the stone floor. I watch them cautiously, feeling my heart thud a bit harder at a low growl from above our heads. As if realizing in unison, we look up to see a menacing, gooey grin looking back at us. I roll out of the way with a strangled shout, ripping my spear free as the flan close in on us.
Vaan rushes toward the same flan I do, slicing into its thick, blubbery surface relentlessly. I appreciate his vigor, but it gets us nowhere.
"You, know, there are more than enough targets to spare," I point out, gritting my teeth and forcing my spear into the side of the monster. It cries out in a strangled, warped voice that makes us both visibly cringe.
"Yeah, I know," the boy shrugs, diving in and out with the agility of youthfulness. "But... I thought it might be easier if we team up, yeah? Even if you are after my magicite." And your gil, I add silently, grinning.
"What, so you'll let Amalia take one all on her own?" I ask sweetly, nodding toward the woman waving a sword around in the face of a flan. Vaan swivels around, leaving me just enough space to knock him to the ground with a bump from my hip. He scowls at me before rushing to help the newest addition to our escape party. A final jab from my lance leaves the flan melting into a sticky puddle of murky slime.
I turn in time to see Fran scorching the flan she and Balthier take on, the monster's flesh bubbling and burning as it shrieks. A smug smile crosses Balthier's face and he pulls the trigger a final time before his flan falls too. And then he's smacked unceremoniously into the ground, face first, by a strike from the largest flan of the four.
"We all have those days!" I call innocently, blocking the flan's initial blow as I hurry to strike it down. Fran actually looks the slightest bit amused, though it may just be at Balthier's annoyance. Amalia and Vaan finally rush in, the latter watching in amazement as the viera scorches the flan's flesh and elicits a shriek.
"Whoa!"
"Not much magick where you come from, thief?" I ask, ducking underneath another swat from the flan. Its movements are frenzied now, and I know we have it on its last legs.
"No, there's magick," he replies, rolling to his feet after taking a particularly hard slap to the lower back. "I just don't know any spells."
"That makes two of us," Balthier mutters back, scowling at his weapon when it jams. "Honestly, I'll have to make a point of returning this one, Fran."
"That would be wise," the viera returns, firing an arrow into the flan's eye. So close.
Determined to finish it off, I turn and sprint toward the lipped edge of the ledge we fight on, ignoring the confused stares of the others. I jump, my feet striking the short brick wall sealing us in and sending me shooting toward the flan. Clenching my teeth, I drive my weapon down through the top of the flan's head with as much power as I can muster at this clumsy angle. If only the ceiling wasn't so low. No matter. I use my continued momentum to flip to the ground, pulling my lance away with me.
Gurgling a final scream, the flan sinks into itself, leaking bubbling yellow ooze, and slides toward the end of the platform, melting into the water below. I huff, tucking my spear away and meeting the eyebrow-raised expressions of my companions.
"What?" I scoff, pacing past them toward the next set of tunnels. "We've got a sewer to escape, do we not?"
"Show off," Vaan mutters, sheathing his knives and following.
"I do believe you're only upset because you know not how to keep up with the show once you've made an entrance," Balthier replies smoothly.
"I'm not upset," Vaan huffs. That's the end of that conversation.
We walk through winding tunnels and twisting pathways for what feels like hours. No one speaks aside from Balthier's irritating humming, if that even counts. Amalia sends Vaan a dirty look whenever he opens his mouth; he finally shuts up.
The killing of gigantoads and steelings is tedious until we come across a wider area. An ominous gate blocks our path. Paying it no mind, Amalia pushes it open, leading the way inside. Balthier shrugs at Fran, following. Muttering my annoyances under my breath, I walk into the new area, already gripping my spear.
Surely enough, the gate clangs shut behind us and a burning ball of flame rushes past my head, spinning around the room and diving out into the open. Upon striking the ground, it bursts into the form of a nearly graceful animal, glowing red and orange with six long appendages floating out from its flaming face. Its burning tail brushes the water and it stumbles onto the walkway, startled. A grating whinny echoes through the room; Vaan's attacking before I realize he's drawn his weapon.
I follow, making sure to keep my distance by staying at the end of my weapon. The creature's skin is rough, cracked like molten rock. Amalia winces each time she gets too close to the heat. Fire spells fly at us left and right, difficult to dodge. Cursing the gods for the fact that I'm still here in the sewers fighting a flaming monster instead of sipping madhu back in the Sand Sea, I plunge my spear into the side of the beast. It nearly throws me to the ground as it screams, bucking around wildly.
Shaking its mane, crazed, a ring of fire bursts up from the ground around it. Vaan cries out, diving into the shallow water nearby to extinguish the flames eating at his clothes. A drop lands on the mare's skin, sizzling. Shouting a frustrated cry, the thief splashes at it angrily. The flaming menace shrieks, bucking. A splash of lava erupts from its back from Fran's arrow and another from a slash from Ashe's sword. Laughing this time, Vaan scoops up water in a bag and dumps it over the monster.
With another burst of flames, the mare rears up on its hind legs and bursts back into a fiery orb, escaping into the dark recesses of the sewer system. Heart pounding in my chest, I breathe a sigh of relief, strapping my spear back into place.
"Well, that was—"
"Stand where you are!"
I turn with dread to see an entire row of soldiers on the ledge above aiming guns straight at our heads. My heart jumps to my throat, choking me. Vayne Solidor paces up between the men, looking over us with sharp, ever observant eyes. Upon seeing me, he mere cocks an eyebrow, continuing. Amalia reaches for her sword, stopped only by Balthier's hand.
"Now's not the time," he utters, eyes locked ahead at the soldiers waiting to shoot.
More of said guards head down the stairs to the left, weapons level and ready. Amalia's expression sours; Vaan looks around nervously. Taking a deep breath, I shake my head, ignoring Fran's gaze. Upon Vayne's nod, the guards pair up, one taking hold of one of us and the other keeping his gun poised. I grit my teeth, glaring at the water and forcing down the urge to send an elbow into my guard's armored jaw as he twists my bindings even tighter. I can almost feel his smile as he looks over my bitter scowl.
"Take them up," is Vayne's last command before he turns and walks away steadily. I glare at his back, burning imaginary holes into his blackened hard. Of course it was you.