~12 years before~
I wring the water from the ragged rough-spun dress in my small, pale hands. Sighing, I sit back on the heels of my tight wooden shoes and peek up at the round old woman hobbling around the laundry room.
"Fraun, my hands hurt."
"Finish up that basket and we'll balm them," the woman replies with a gruff voice, glancing at me with a gentle, sad smile. "We don't want to risk a punishment, now do we?"
"I suppose not," I reply softly, flexing my raw fingers. My skin is dry, cracked, stinging. Tiny hands never meant for the labor of servanthood. Rosa tells me my blood keeps me from being the best laborer I can be. Whatever that means. "Rosa, are you done hanging the sheets yet?"
A slim girl of sixteen peers out from behind a damp, dangling sheet pinned to a clothesline. A smile plays on her rosy lips and her blue eyes sparkle as she shakes her head.
"Unfortunately not, Shera. You'll have to complete your duties on your own today."
"But...!" Pouting, I drop the dress back into the soapy water, biting down hard on my lip when the water stings my cuts. I jump with a small cry of surprise when the door flings open and a guard marches into the room.
"It's time, Fraun," comes a man's voice, muffled by the thick helmet over his face. "The emperor has requested to see her."
"Now?" The old woman turns and stares at me. Frowning, I stand, my heart hammering in my chest. The emperor? What does he want? "Dearest, come," Fraun calls, motioning me to her side. I obey, wrapping my thin arms around her broad waist. "We'll be waiting should you need us."
"What's happening?" I ask, fear overcoming me as the guard reaches out toward me impatiently.
"It'll be alright," Rosa reassures me, prying me from Fraun's side and nudging me away. "I promise."
Shuddering, I take the guard's hand and let him drag me from the room. His steps are long and fast, and I nearly have to run to keep up. Servants and noble people and Judges alike hardly spare me as glance as I hurry past, careful not to bump anyone. We come to a stop before two broad doors I never dared to pass, warned by the others to stay away. The guard stoops down, resting one armored hand on my shoulder.
"Be on your best behavior. Emperor Gramis is not known for his kindness."
With that, he pushes the door open and shoves me into the wide room before shutting me in like a caged rodent. The floor is wide, lined with decorative carpets and broad windows. Straight ahead sits a man with hair as white as the clouds, a glittering crown resting on top. The ruler stands, eyeing me as curiously as I eye him. Slowly but steadily, he walks toward me, adorned with robes twice his size and jewelry ten times my life's worth. Heart hammering in my chest, I throw myself on all fours, bowing as low as I can for fear of breathing my last breaths in this very room.
"Arise, my child. Do not fear me."
I squeak when a cool hand rests on my back, another pushing me to my rather unimpressive height. The emperor himself kneels before me, his pale blue eyes looking over me cautiously. His face is pressed with the hard lines of difficult decisions and hardships aplenty. A slight smile tugs at his lips and he rests one wrinkled hand on my head.
"You resemble your mother so clearly," he murmurs. "In the highest reaches of power, there are many secrets. One is to be revealed to you today. Tell me, child, what is your name?"
"Shera," I reply meekly, watching a single white eyebrow raise sharply.
"Is that all?" Scared, I shrug, biting hard into my lip. He shakes his head. "No, it is not. My dear, your name is Shera Castean Solidor."
"Solidor...?" I frown, watching as he nods, looking past me when the doors open and shut. I don't dare look back, frozen in place.
"Yes, Solidor. And these, Shera, are your elder brothers."
I finally turn to see three tall boys standing behind me, all with matching dark locks and light eyes full of fiery passion for their home. The shortest, who I also assume to be the youngest of the three, offers a gentle smile that calms my nerves the slightest bit.
"Here we have Vayne, Gregor, and Beldroth. The fourth, Larsa, is hardly four days old." The emperor rises, towering over his sons easily. "I have no doubt the five of you will stand together until your dying breaths."
"Majesty," I interrupt, looking over the faces of my supposed brothers anxiously. The words feel foreign on my tongue. "I'm terribly sorry, but I don't understand. I'm eight years old. Why am I to be introduced as your daughter now?"
"An illegitimate child makes a bad name for a ruler," the boy named Gregor replies, tilting his head to the side. "Our mother passed giving life to Larsa. It is not uncustomary for a princess to be introduced to the public years past her birth anyway."
"Enough questions," the emperor, my father, objects, motioning for silence. "I see you have many more, Shera. I request that you all head to another hall to discuss this. I have a counsil to attend with the Senate."
"Of course," Vayne replies, giving a slight bow before nodding for me to join his side. "What must I explain, Shera?"
"I will accompany you to Mount Bur-Omisace."
"I had hoped you'd say yes. I'm glad," Larsa replies, a gentle smile forming over his pale lips.
"My heart is not set. I still have questions," Ashe reminds him. "I hope to find answers along the way."
"I had other reason to invite you." Of course he did. This boy never gives up. "There is someone I'd like you to meet waiting on Bur-Omisace."
"Who is that?"
"An enemy, and an ally also. You will just have to wait and see for yourself."
"You do love your surprises," I scoff, earning a smile from my younger brother.
"He loves his secrets," Vaan corrects under his breath as the prince walks away. Ashe agrees with a light laugh.
"He does not mean ill by it."
"He's not bad. At least for an Imperial."
"He can't exactly help the side he was born on," I point out. Vaan grins, shrugs, and starts down the wooden bridge out of the village. My stomach stirs and I swallow the anxiety building in my chest. Mount Bur-Omisace. I left four years ago and now I make my return. I take a deep breath of the fresh morning air, shutting my eyes. Fates, please let that wrinkled old nu mou be buried six feet under by now.
"I've heard of wishing upon stars, but never of wishing upon the sun," comes a smooth voice. I sigh, rolling my eyes before turning to face the sky pirate behind me. "You truly are a peculiar one."
"It's an uncommon practice, but it works just as well," I reply dryly. He's as smug as ever, cocking his head in mock intrigue and raising an eyebrow.
"Oh? And just what were you wishing for?"
"Aren't you supposed to keep wishes to yourself?"
"I thought perhaps this sun-wishing ritual might be a bit different." I scoff, pushing off the post of the bridge and starting down with Balthier close behind.
"I'll have you know I wished twice. The first is a secret. The second time, I begged for you to be struck down with lightning."
"A bit harsh, don't you think? After all I've done for you?"
"All you've done has been for treasure, my most irritating accomplice," I sneer, tossing a sly smile over my shoulder. "Lightning is just enough to give you that last joyful, jolting dance before you fall for good."
"Ah, so you'd like to see me dance." I scoff, shaking my head.
"I'd rather be beheaded at the foot of Vayne Carudas Solidor than to witness that atrocity."
"I'm rather hurt, you know."
"Good." We step into the sand, pinched off from Vaan, Ashe, and Penelo as we wait for everyone else to join us at the exit of Jahara.
"But to go back to your previous statement: I find it quite inciteful of you to relay my plans to me after I've stated them clearly on my own. Quite genius indeed." I cross my eyes, facing away from him pointedly. Now he steps in front of me to block my view of the bickering teenagers across the sands, towering over me all too easily with the stupidly smug smile on his face. "And what are your intentions, exactly?"
"Escape," I shrug, turning my eyes toward his finally.
"Jonan."
"Everything."
"And that would require death, I'm afraid." I groan, snapping my fingers and cursing dramatically.
"I've been discovered! You're right, Balthier. This is all my honorable quest for a good end to my story."
"I could do so easily this very moment—if you so wish," he replies smoothly, raising an eyebrow.
"Ah, yes. But I said I wanted a good end," I remind him, my lips cocking into a lopsided smile. "And to bite a filthy bullet of yours... Why, I'd rather not die from a bruise poisoned with all that rust."
"Aren't you flattering," he mutters, glancing toward Vaan with a curious look in his green eyes. "It's a wonder Jonan holds such alternatives over your head."
"That's what I thought too, at the start." I shrug, my eyes scanning the golden desert sand. "But... Incompetent men will be incompetent men, and beautiful women will be beautiful women." I smile, starting toward Vaan and tossing my words over my shoulder. "I'm sure you know something of that. Or should I ask Fran?"
Not waiting to see his undoubtedly well-covered reaction, I face Vaan and scan the skyline. The morning light glows on the horizon and the slightest chill permeates my clothes from the recovering night air. Fran comes to cross the bridge, heading toward Balthier with Basch trailing behind her. I join the knight's side with a cheerful greeting only find myself led back to the sky pirates. Sighing, I follow anyway, standing at Basch's side with my arms crossed loosely and a hip cast out to the side.
"Only Mount Bur-Omisace stands at the northern end of the Jagd Ramooda," the blonde muses, his voice as deep and smooth as always. I study every glint on Fran's armor as I listen, appreciating the soldier's expansive knowledge of the geography of Ivalice. "Once we're in jagd, we need not fear pursuit by their airships."
"Don't get your hopes up," Balthier replies easily, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops and turning on his heels, heading toward the sandy ledge to the left of Ashe's small group. We follow, Fran keeping her distance and merely watching through passive crimson eyes. "You'll remember the Leviathan sailed straight over the Jagd Yensa, right up to Raithwall's Tomb. Skystone that works even in jagd. I recall Shae mentioning a partner who crafted the stuff." Green eyes as vibrant as the rolling grassy hills behind me flash toward the dull golden brown of mine. "Did he work with the empire?"
"If only," I scoff, shaking my head and gently tapping the armor covering my left arm. "Might've saved us some trouble if we had no troubles with the imperials."
"You know nethicite's behind it," he replies dryly, turning his eyes back toward the desert. Something about him and his opinions about nethicite rub me the wrong way as if he's hiding something. I shake my head. Aren't we all? "Little wonder they're so keen on the stuff."
"And what is it you're after, Balthier?" Basch asks, stepping closer to the pirate's side. Balthier's steady expression melts away into an absent frown and he stares at the sky as if he can't hear the knight. "You're a welcome hand, and a great aid, but why?"
"Worried I'm out to steal nethicite, eh?" Balthier replies, his voice taking on the slightest edge. "Can't say I'm unaccustomed to people doubting my intentions." He pauses, still refusing to look at Basch. "... Nothing could be further from my mind. Shall I swear by your sword or some such?" he asks sarcastically, dusting off his sleeves.
"Apologies. But I needed to know where you stand. Her Majesty depends on you, and you seemed to have an interest in the Stone." Balthier finally turns to face him, though I find his eyes on me, an actor scanning his audience to see how well he performs his act. I must not look satisfied. His lips cock up into a teasing smile and he shrugs.
"I'm only here to see how the story unfolds; Shae appears to be here for the same. Any self-respecting leading man would do the same."
With that, he turns and heads toward Ashe and the others that wait for us. Fran moves to follow, her long legs taking fewer steps and longer strides through the sand. Basch sighs, looking down at me with those gentle blue eyes.
"Is he correct?"
"It's what I've been telling him," I mutter, shrugging. "But... I'm here for a lot of things. Escape, revenge, treasure, all that."
"No loyalties to Her Majesty?"
"I..." My voice trails off as I turn to glance at her. "I support her in her decision to take down Vayne. That's why I'm here—to rip that wretch to pieces."
"I see."
"On the contrary," I sigh, turning away from the disappointed knight, "I do believe you've grown blind." Vaan practically tackles me by the time I reach the others, grinning ear to ear.
"Shae! They're letting us use the chocobos for free!"
"Indeed they are, and you will take care of them," Ashe replies, warning clear in her voice. "Though," she adds with a sigh, "we may have to double up. We can't take all their flock for ourselves."
"I have no objections to the prospect, Lady Ashe," Larsa replies, stepping up from behind to join the group. Penelo laughs, taking hold of his hand.
"Larsa and I can go together," she offers, eliciting a smile from my younger brother.
"Yes, I have no objections to that either."
"Can I ride with Balthier?" Vaan begs, turning to face the sky pirate. "C'mon, you can't always go with Fran."
"Ah, but I can," Balthier replies smoothly, lips turning up into a mischievous smile. "Are we free to mount when we're prepared to leave?"
"Yes, gather at the edge of the grass just over there," Ashe nods, motioning toward the expanse of the plains that opens up outside the entrance to the garif village. Basch steps forth and takes hold of a chocobo's reins, offering them to Ashe.
"Your Majesty should ride your own," he says meekly, bowing his head. Ashe comes close to rolling her eyes, I can sense it. Not very gently, she pulls the lead from the knight's hands and raises a stubborn eyebrow.
"And who should keep me from falling and breaking my neck should I lose control?" Basch glances at her, clearing his throat and backing away to give the princess space. Smiling, I follow Vaan into the pen where he saddles a chocobo next to Fran and Balthier.
"Looks like I'm to ride with you," I muse, crossing my arms and looking up at the tanned boy. He grins, his gray eyes gleaming.
"I guess it could've been worse. I might've gotten stuck with Lamont."
"I'd hold your tongue," Balthier warns lightly, smiling. "She and the boy are quite good friends."
"I wouldn't say friends," I scoff, peering over the chocobo's golden feathers.
"You lie far too often," the pirate counters, pulling himself up onto the bird's back. Fran hops on behind him, eyeing me with amusement. "You look at each other far too easily to be less than that."
"I'd call it good terms," I shrug, climbing on behind Vaan and carefully wrapping my arms around his bare middle. I can't say I'm disappointed; the boy's far too well muscled for his age. Vaan gives a nervous laugh when I rest my chin on his shoulder, tugging on the reins to the chocobo.
"I don't really know how to control this thing," he admits.
"Just give her a little push," I reply, shutting my eyes. He tugs the reins; the bird rears its head; I yelp; I cling to Vaan; I bite his shoulder. Balthier takes a small bag of gil from Fran, chuckling when the thief squeals.
"Ow! Shae!"
"A most entertaining show," Balthier comments, tucking the betted gil into a pouch on his leg. "But I'm afraid we must be on our way."
"Yeah, yeah," Vaan huffs, guiding the chocobo out of the pen and carefully pulling her to a stop beside the others'.
"Are we prepared to head out?" Basch asks as we join them, sitting tall behind Ashe, though he looks as if he could slide off at any moment. "We first must travel through the Golmore Jungle before we reach the mountain."
"I suppose we're as prepared as we'll ever be," Larsa replies, smiling over the top of his chocobo's head. "Shall we, Lady Ashe?"