I pull my lance free from the final ice wolf's neck, hot blood spilling into the melting snow. Fran sheathes her loose arrow and turns her face to the wind, eyes narrowing against its sting. Sighing, I twist at the armor at my wrist as if it's a shackle and not a tool to hide my painful reminders. Vaan huffs, shuddering.
"Are we almost there?"
"The guides said the Shrine is just up this path," Ashe replies, dragging her heavy boots through the deep snow. "The longer we stand and talk, the longer you'll freeze."
"Yeah, yeah," the thief sighs, hugging his arms to his body. Penelo looks equally miserable, shivering with blue lips and fingertips. "I'm starving. We haven't any real food for days."
"Quit whining," I huff, crossing my arms and trudging along. I glance down at Balthier's open-ended shoes and frown. "Aren't you cold?"
"Not quite," he replies, raising an eyebrow. "Aren't you?"
"At least my shoes cover my feet," I scoff, turning my face up to the sun in hopes of warming up. The light heats my face gently, not nearly enough to protect me from the freezing temperatures, but enough to refresh my spirits.
"I generally walk forward, so the holes at the back are really not an issue." Balthier eyes my shirt. "However, those useless cut-outs on your shoulders may be cause for concern before long."
I give a disinterested hum and scan our surroundings for enemies as we climb a towering hill. Vaan sticks his hands in the snow and drags himself up, Penelo frowning at her friend and shaking her head. Basch glances around at all of us, his light eyes staying on me a little longer as he mulls over something. Then, shaking his head, he turns away and nods toward the view ahead I haven't quite reached.
"There we are. The Stilshrine."
"Already?" I ask, stepping up beside him to scan over the sun-kissed blocks building up the temple looming ahead. Vaan bursts out in relieved laughter and runs down the hill, the snow stopping short at the temple's first towering pillars. "It's a relief to take a short walk for once."
"Relish in it," Balthier mutters, starting toward the Shrine. "It may be the last one we take."
"I certainly hope not," I sigh. "Though, at some point, we have to return to Dalmascan terrain."
"That's a long journey," Basch replies. "However, we have chocobos and perhaps even the assistance of Al-Cid. He may have a faster means of travel."
"I can't wait to feel a sunburn again," I breathe, smiling. "And sand, the pesky stuff. I can't wait to feel that scraping me all up while I work on my ship."
"You certainly seem to live a rather tame life," Balthier comments, though I think he says it more to get under my skin. I roll my eyes.
"I may just become a hermit for a while after this. I've had enough adventure in the past decade to last me the rest of my life."
"Is that so? You've only lived for two of those."
"Stories for another time."
He doesn't miss my playful wink.
The stone is solid and rough under my feet, the shrine's overhanging arches and pillars creating a sense of scale that steals my breath away. The doors draw closer much quicker than I would like. Unfortunately, we must enter at some point. A kiltias stops us by the door, bowing to Ashe.
"Lady Ashe, a message. The legend tells us the Sword of Kings was never meant to be used for the base spilling of blood. Think you on these words."
"I will," Ashe replies dutifully.
She pushes the enormous stone doors open and we enter the musty Stilshrine of Miriam. The room is expansive with paths and small statues and a massive carving of a king at the center of the open space. Taking a deep breath, the princess leading us steps toward one of the statues, eyes narrowing as she reads the inscription carved into the stone.
"Treaty-seeker: relic held, this pedestal embrace."
"It refers to you, Majesty," Basch replies.
"The relic must mean the Dawn Shard," I nod. Frowning, Ashe pulls the lackluster orb out, resting the nethicite in the palm of her hand.
"And what if we're wrong?" Penelo dares to ask timidly, clutching her staff tightly. "Does this place crumble to pieces with us inside?"
"You've listened to far too many bedtime stories," Balthier retorts, nodding toward Ashe. "It should be right."
"I suppose..."
Ashe steps up, clutching the Dawn Shard in one hand and stretching her free fingers toward the pedestal. A burst of light explodes from the statue, enveloping us in brightness that's nearly blinding. There's a familiar tug and, once the light's faded, we're in a completely new location. I blink the floating spots out of my vision, scanning the dark room made of gray stone. A loud scrape echoes through the corridor and everything tenses as the scrapes turn into creaks and groans.
"Guys?" Vaan's eyes are wide, his knuckles white on the end of his dagger.
"What do you suppose we do?" Balthier replies coolly, unfazed by the living state towering fifteen feet above us.
"Run?" Penelo suggests, clutching her staff.
"I'm certain we could take it," the sky pirate shrugs, glancing back at Ashe. Rolling my eyes, I draw my spear and strike the statue's ankle before diving back and raising an eyebrow, my point proven.
"Can't exactly beat it to death."
"There are more methods."
"That I hardly know of." There's another long, drawn-out scrape as the guardian draws its rough sword.
"I might suggest fleeing this once, Majesty," Basch suggests.
Ashe, giving a defeated sigh, nods. We rush through the doorway ahead with the statue pounding at our heels. We're hardly given a break, however, because the second we find refuge from the monster, we're bombarded with attacks from three dragon-like beasts. If they weren't trying to snap me in half, I might find them beautiful with their glistening power blue scales and lavender wings.
Fran uses her bow to block attacks as she conjures up an ice spell. The dragon snapping at her rears back with a stifled yelp, shaking its head rapidly. I take the opportunity to jab at its chest, Vaan sliding past to slash at its leg. By the time it recovers, the viera's struck it with another spell. To help Basch and Ashe, I cast my own ice spell on their target before rushing back toward my own enemy.
Sticking with my tendency to make my attacks a little extravagant, I grip the side of the dragon's neck and swing myself onto its back, sitting on it like it's a chocobo. Vaan laughs and Fran looks clearly amused as I raise my spear in the air like a proud child might—just before ramming the end through the overgrown lizard's skull. I suppose that might be the only divide between me and a child at this rate... Fran fires one last spell toward Penelo and Balthier's beast, her partner ending the dragon with a final bullet.
"That was much easier than I thought it would be," Penelo says, relieved. She grins at me. "What was going on over there, anyway?"
"I was having a bit of fun," I shrug, fighting a smile.
"Apparently Shae prefers to ride her prey before ending it's suffering," Balthier comments, slinging his gun over his shoulder casually. I raise an eyebrow; Basch gives a short huff of a laugh before shaking his head.
"Let's continue then, shall we?" Ashe says finally, brushing the pirate's words off and walking across the broad room to the next stone doorway.
A massive staircase leads up to split in the path, each direction holding another set of stairs that leads deeper into the temple. Ashe leads us down the left path and into a corridor I can only assume is a circle. That way, it wouldn't matter which way we went. A pair of zombies stumbles toward us, quickly dispatched by Fran's fire spells and Basch's blade. At the end of the path, there's another pedestal with a new inscription. I cross my arms, head cocked to the right as I read aloud.
"Treaty-seeker: relic held, this pedestal embrace. Paths untold discover."
"Here we go again," Penelo sighs.
Ashe steps forward and rests her hand on the pedestal. The floor shakes and for half a second, I think the ceiling might collapse. And then the walls lower bit by bit, disappearing into the floor to create a steep set of stone stairs leading to two iron doors. The princess frowns, between the two paths.
"Having a dilemma?" Balthier asks. She spares him an irritated glance and turns Basch.
"Where should we start? Splitting up or staying together?"
"If I know these sorts of temples at all," I start, eyeing the path to the right. "There's a task that must be completed in each section in order for you to proceed with the final discourse."
"Of course there are," Ashe sighs, shaking her head. "Fine, then. We split into two groups and then return here once each task is completed. If there is no task, head toward the other team." She turns to Balthier, her eyes holding the slightest bit of distrust. "Can you lead the other team?"
"It's certainly fitting for the leading man," Balthier replies smoothly, his lips cocked into a smug smile. "Of course I can."
"I will go with the Her Majesty," Basch announces. "Does anyone else wish to join us? We have an uneven number."
"Knowing the both of you in battle, you'll only need one more," Balthier points out, the humble knight bowing his head in thanks. A silence heavily settles over the party as we glance at each other. Fran finally gives in, unexpectedly, and steps forward.
"I have no qualms about joining this group."
"It looks like I'm in charge of the children," Balthier sighs, hands rested on his hips. I scoff.
"You've got me."
"Your point?"
"One of them won't return," Basch grumbles, Fran's ear twitching in agreement.
"Vaan and I will hold down the fort," I retort, stepping past Balthier and motioning for the youngest members of the party to join us. Vaan grins, grabbing Penelo's wrist and running after me. Balthier and Basch exchange a hidden look and part ways.
We hurry down staircase after staircase, finally entering a room lined with wolfish statues. Two zombies turn upon seeing us enter the room with their swords raised and their flesh rotting. Sending a blast of fire their way, I rush toward one with my spear poised. Vaan and Penelo strike down the second easily enough—zombies aren't exactly the toughest enemies we've crossed so far.
The hallways are incredibly dark and empty, each little sound carrying much farther than intended. Balthier hums the same tune he always does, gun rested on his shoulder. Penelo and Vaan whisper back and forth for a bit before breaking apart. The hallway winds this way and that, leading us along a path scattered with zombies and the occasional gigas.
"I can't not talk," Vaan finally groans, throwing his head back toward the ceiling. "I'm tired and I'm hungry and I kinda just wanna go back to Rabanastre."
"Be my guest," Balthier replies. "I'd like to see you walk all the way back to Rabanastre."
"I could do it," he replies defensively. Penelo giggles.
"Oh, Vaan. We'd find you kidnapped by pirates or something."
"Probably dead, honestly. The boy could starve from not eating for two hours," I mutter, Balthier chuckling when Vaan protests.
"I don't eat that much!"
"If I recall correctly," Balthier interjects. "When we left Jahara, we had plenty of rations and we're now completely out."
"Someone promised to find more food and never did," I add, nudging the boy. He huffs, running ahead to cut down another undead guardian. Once we catch up, he sheathes his blade with a frown. "I'll give you fair warning now: you eat like that when you're around Balthier's age and you'll look like a seeq in half a year."
"First of all," Penelo starts, raising an eyebrow. "Balthier's only, what, two years older than you? Secondly, that's pretty rude to seeqs."
"But am I wrong?" I counter. Balthier rolls his eyes, shrugging at Vaan when the boy frowns at him. "Exactly."
"I'm not fat now," Vaan huffs. "I don't see why it makes a difference in five years."
"Trust me, it does," I laugh, though I do give him a gentle pat on the shoulder. "And I didn't say there was anything wrong with you. You're quite perfect in the body department." Vaan bursts out laughing.
"Did you just squeeze my bicep?" he snickers. I grin back at him, shrugging at Balthier's eyebrow-raise.
"Look, someone's gotta admire the kid's nice... features."
"I'll keep that in mind," Balthier grumbles, rolling his eyes yet again. He nods toward something in his sights. "I do believe we've found what we're searching for."
A statue of a soldier stands on a short pillar, facing east from our position. Vaan and Penelo run ahead, looking over the stone man in search of clues. The younger of the two finds it first, which is not surprising in any way.
"Guardians three, face ye with the blade. With relic-bearer join, your fealty swear to me." Penelo faces me and Balthier, frowning. "What's that mean?"
"Guardians three..." Balthier muses. "Three statues, most likely."
"Face ye with the blade?" Vaan repeats, scratching at his head. "That's pretty old speech right there."
"What, you never took a language course?" I tease, earning a flat smile. "There's that, and then 'Swear your fealty to me.'"
"Never," Balthier mutters. I ignore him, my mind piecing together the hints in a flash.
"His sword needs to face the statue of King Raithwall!" I blurt.
"For real?" Vaan asks, looking up at the statue.
"That has to be it," I insist, moving to turn the statue on its rotating pillar.
"It seems to add up," Balthier agrees. "Having trouble?"
"Help me out, you ass," I hiss, teeth grit as the statue barely moves. Chuckling, Balthier pushes from the other side of the stone man, turning the statue steadily. "Stop! Right there."
"For sure?" Penelo asks, just to be certain.
"Positive," I nod. "Looks like we can meet up with Basch and Ashe now.
"I wonder if they figured it out," Vaan grins.
"Basch basically speaks the way these plaques are written," I point out. "They'll be alright."
"And the third statue?" Penelo inquires. I shrug, looking over at Balthier.
"There were only two paths. Two choices." I force myself to look ahead, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. "I suppose you just have to choose a path, stick to it, and see what happens." I start walking down the path we came from, my steps faltering upon hearing Balthier reply in his smooth, unaffected voice.
"And if you choose wrong?"
"Then you stick with the wrong path or you cut corners and cross paths to the right way," I shrug, feigning nonchalance. "But you can't ever go backwards."
"Why not?" Vaan asks, walking up to my side and continuing the odd analogy. "Is the past too dark?"
"Not exactly," I reply, brushing my hair out of my face as I think, my voice unintentionally fading to nothing less than raw, real, far deeper than the surface I've bared for so long. "The path crumbles behind you as you continue. You can stop, of course, and the path won't fall from beneath you. But from there you reach no destination." I shrug, turning to flash him a gentle smile. "That's when the darkness catches up and swallows you whole."
"Is the darkness catching up to you?"
"..." I allow a light laugh and shake my head. "Perhaps. At this rate, I've lived enough life for an entire lifetime. I suppose what I might need is a little less of that dark, though."
"We all do," Vaan nods, throwing an arm around my shoulders and grinning at Balthier. "Hey, Balthier. If Fran ever left you would you let Shae be your partner?"
"Absolutely not," Balthier and I reply at the same time. Penelo giggles, shaking her head.
"You're both so stubborn," she laughs, catching up to my other side to walk between me and the other sky pirate. "But you know, when the path falls apart, it doesn't disappear into an abyss. It falls into a river or a lake—so you really can go back. It's just harder to restart." A pair of green eyes finds mine over the girl's head.
"You hear that, Shae?" Balthier says. "You aren't entirely broken after all."
"Yeah, well, let's just pretend my path's got lava underneath," I retort. "And if I go back, I'll be boiled alive, so..."
"I can't tell if you're joking or not," Vaan admits with a nervous laugh. "I mean, you told me a long time ago in Nalbina that you really hate Vayne. Everyone does. But why just him? Why not the whole Empire?"
"So many reasons," I scoff. "He's manipulative, he's power-starved, he's vain, he's twisted and cruel and disgusting. And this is coming from someone who doesn't have much of a position on the war."
"So, you have met him," Balthier muses. "I was beginning to wonder if you only held grudges for Larsa's sake."
"Of course I've met him," I huff. "One can hardly hate a man so much if he's never truly suffered such cruelty first hand."
"I mean, how cruel is he really, though?" Vaan asks. "All things considered with the war and nethicite, he just seems like a tough guy who wants to control the world." He shrugs, frowning. "He's the reason Reks... But in person, is he really all that bad? Maybe we're just not seeing the whole picture." I let loose a bitter laugh that startles the curious boy, tracing the hem of my shirt.
"Once upon a time, I served under Vayne Solidor. I won't tell you why or when or how I got there, but I did. That man's out of his mind. The only thing he cares for is position and Larsa, and the latter always comes second. After tricking me into slaughtering two of my very best friends, he then decided to lock me away from the world for safety's sake. Long story short, I found a way out and he didn't like it."
"What do you mean...?"
I shrug Vaan's arm off my shoulder and lift the end of my shirt up to my collarbone, revealing a long, twisting scar from a knife carving deep into my flesh. Engraved in my side is the crest of House Solidor and 'Never forget from wence you came' beneath it, fainter. The scar reaches from my hip bone to the bottom of my ribcage, winding snakes forever reminding me of Vayne's venomous mind games.
"This is after he hurt Dern. Well, hurt's an understatement." I shrug. "Now, don't you ever doubt me when I say Vayne needs to die ever again," I snap, dropping my shirt, smoothing it and continuing down the hall. The other three hesitate together for a moment before following.
"Wait," Vaan calls. "Did Vayne... was he the reason your partner died?" The reason? Most definitely.
"Yes." The exact cause? No. I change my tone to a brighter, happier voice. "So, I case you were wondering why I've tagged along, now you know." My pitch and my smile are all too sweet. "Because I'd rather watch Vayne come to a slow, suffering end than entertain Jonan any day." That evokes a quiet laugh from Balthier, but that's my only response. So what if I'm out of my mind? So what if my intentions are dark and wrong and I can't tell anyone the truth because I can't trust? I'm alive aren't I? I can't help the grin tugging at my lips. I can't wait until Vayne's not.
Dern... I never knew that I needed you this badly, that you were the only one keeping my head on my shoulders.