"What is that thing?!" Vaan cries, diving back and away from the massive metallic creature dragging itself out of a glowing hole in the stone tiles.
"I haven't the slightest clue," Balthier replies, pulling his gun off his back. The spear in my hands suddenly feels unbearably heavy and I frown, rolling my shoulders back in hopes of alleviating the tension. Vaan, too, notices this weight, slashing his dagger through the air.
"Am I the only one feeling this?"
"No," I sigh, wincing as my arms ache in protest to any movement. "Our friend here likely emits a magnetic field."
"Fantastic," Balthier breathes, glancing over his shoulder at Penelo. "Know a spell or two to lend us a hand?"
"I can try," the girl replies, baring her staff as a skimpy shield.
"How's that gun feel, Balthier?" I ask, watching the bizarre iron dragon clamber closer.
"Not terrible."
I break off from the group and rush to the left, my steps slowed by the dragging weight of my weapon. While the creature is distracted, I take the opportunity to use momentum to swing my spear into its rusted back. One of its three eerie human-like faces swoops around its side and nears my own face. I stumble back, Vaan redirecting its attention with a rather hard slash to its metal shell. How long has this freak been down here? Balthier's gun cracks loud and clear without any hesitation. It doesn't affect him then, the lucky bastard.
Jerking away from Penelo's touch, the creature slides into the largest space in the room and spins, balancing on a single, deadly-sharp foot. I hardly have time to react before a dozen swords fly out in all directions. A stinging cut burns my left shoulder, the slash in my shirt causing the material to fall even further off my shoulder. Balthier dives to the right and Vaan to the left. The thief crashes into the pirate, causing them both to clamber to the ground less than gracefully. Penelo manages to escape the damage, but deemed the weakest link, the creature targets her.
Caught between fighting and saving the girl, I glance toward the two young men tangled up on the ground, each reaching for their weapon. Balthier looks far from frustrated, more burning with an irate temper, as he kicks at Vaan, trying to fire a shot that might stop the dragon from beheading the blonde. Penelo blocks a blow with her staff; I throw my weighted spear to the ground and dive toward Balthier. Huffing, I tear the gun from his fingertips.
"Oh, give me that, you incompetent buffoon!" I snap, firing one, two, three shots into the monster's side.
It rears two of its heads, the open iron-cast mouths screaming metallic echoes of pain. Tossing the firearm back to Balthier, I run to rescue my spear. Just as I drag the heavy javelin off the ground, Vaan slashes across the base of a head, chopping it clean off. The iron mask rattles to the ground and rolls to my feet, the creature shuddering and collapsing onto itself.
With a final groan, it falls back into the boiling pit of lava it dragged itself away from to begin with. Screaming, it flails its rusted limbs in the air as it melts away into the liquid rock. Two stone panels slide over the lava and close off the dying dragon below. Without hesitation, I sling my spear onto my back and scowl at the boys.
"What the hell was that?"
"Ask Vaan," Balthier huffs, adjusting the cuffs on his shirt and twisting a colorful ring on his tanned finger. "I suppose he decided now was the perfect time for a dirt nap."
"I did not!" the younger boy protests, throwing his hands in the air. "You hit me!"
"I did no such thing," Balthier sniffs. "If you had watched where you were—"
"Shut up!" I snap, halting them in their argument. Uncomfortable, Vaan pulls his arms closer to his body and Balthier raises an eyebrow. "It doesn't matter who did what. Your idiocy could have gotten Penelo killed."
"She can fight," Vaan defends.
"With that twig?" I retort, plucking the staff from the girl's hands and holding it out for her friend to see. "In what universe could this stop twelve iron swords and a pissed dragon?"
"Relax, Vaan," Balthier sighs, rolling his eyes. I huff, shoving the staff back into Penelo's hands and turning toward the next stone soldier we need to turn to Raithwall. "She's letting her sisterly instincts get the better of her," he mutters.
My short temper sparks to fury and I dive toward him, fist raised to meet his jaw. Both his hands push me back and Vaan's tug on my waist stops me from hitting Balthier, but it does nothing to prevent my elbow from snapping into the thief's nose. Groaning, the teenager falls back and clutches his dripping nose. Irritated, I clutch the high collar of Balthier's shirt and jerk his face down toward mine, glowering into his eyes.
"Can I help you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. I don't miss the warm pressure of his hands gently pressed to my sides.
"Piss. Off."
"Oh, getting snappy, are we? Where did your manners go?"
I merely spit in his face in response, shoving him away and stomping toward the statue. Grimacing, the pirate, swipes at his face with his dirtied sleeve. Penelo casts a gentle healing spell on her friend's bloody nose. I grit my teeth and shove at the statue to try and turn it in the right direction. It hardly budges.
"Need assistance?" Balthier asks smugly.
"You absolute ass," I hiss, digging my heels in the ground and pushing with my shoulder. It moves half an inch.
"That's no apology."
"You're not receiving one."
"You're not receiving help."
"I don't need it."
"It's naptime, then," Vaan mocks, yawning and slumping against the wall. Balthier smiles, joining his side and leaning back, watching with a smirk. Torn, Penelo merely stands far away.
"I despise you all," I huff, pulling out my spear and looking the statue up and down. "Fates kill me now."
"Don't tempt me," Balthier scoffs. "You nearly ruined my shirt."
"I could ruin a whole lot more," I retort, driving my spear's head in between the statue's base and the tiles.
"Oh?" The pirate raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Is that a promise?"
"You're gross," Vaan laughs, elbowing him.
Ignoring them, I push the spear's end, prying the soldier forward until it's turned enough that I'm satisfied. It would be incredibly inconvenient to have to redo all these pillars. I slide my spear back into its slot and stomp past my teammates, my hair swishing across the base of my back. I don't wait for them to catch up, keeping my quick, long strides even when Vaan begs me to slow down.
"Shae, c'mon! We're just kidding around!"
"Vaan, leave her alone," Penelo huffs, chasing after her friend. I force my eyes to stay ahead and shiver against the chill of the Stilshrine. Something's off about this place, and I've a feeling Belias isn't the last of the Espers the Fates will throw our way.
"I'm glad you figured it out as well," Basch admits, watching the base of Raithwall's enormous sword shift out of our way and open a new passage.
"It was all Shae," Vaan admits, scratching at his head when I scowl at him. "And she's in a bad mood, so wouldn't bother her right now."
"Whatever," I huff, crossing my arms. "You and Balthier are absolute—"
"Let's save the fighting for later," Ashe breaks in, leading the way down the new path.
"I'd hold your tongue if I was you," Balthier mutters as he passes by. I resist the urge to slam into his back with the end of my spear and follow the group further into the shrine.
The stairs slope upward into a doorway. Penelo, on edge, casts a shielding spell over us all. Ashe nods her thanks and pushes the stone door open. Immediately, we see that the entire room we enter is frozen over, coated top to bottom in a gleaming blue ice. In the center stands the figure of a woman with a massive golden tail and appendages like wings sprouting from her back. Her eyes are shielded by a pointed gold guard over her eyes. I shiver, pulling my spear free and watching my breath cloud in the air.
The creature swims up into the air, bearing a glittering trident, and the ice bursts into nothingness, cold shards that dissipate at her command. A swarm of ice shards collected as single beings flutters around her. Careful not to be caught in a corner, we break off from one another and try to divide up the work. Fran casts a fire spell on the creature itself, only to have the flame bounce right back at her.
"It's cast a reflect spell," Basch calls in warning.
One of the ice azers flies toward me, a flurry of sentient snow. A wave of bitter cold blows over me when the swarm casts a blizzard spell. Hitting it away with my spear, I hit it with a fire spell, nearly half of the azer melting after one hit. I grit my teeth through another ice spell and light it aflame once more. Taking my last opportunity, I strike the ice shards out of place and send them skittering across the ground, lifeless. Suddenly, the creature shrieks, swiveling around to face me as an appendage falls off her back and crumples on the floor. Blocking a strike from her frosted trident, I roll past her and rush back toward Basch.
"Kill those ice things!" Vaan calls, noticing the monster's reaction to me killing one of the swarms.
Quickly and easily, the lesser ice creatures are dispatched. Ashe is the first to turn to the mermaid-like monster, slashing into her side with her sword. Her shriveled appendages litter the floor and her icy blood drips from a wound inflicted by Vaan's dagger.
Fran fires a final arrow into the creature's chest; the monster rears, screaming and writhing in agony as her blue skin melts away into a flurry of cerulean sparks. The glittering bits of what she once was form into a gleaming orb that flutters down to the floor. In a flash of bright light, the ball becomes a symbol like that of the first Esper's, only gold and twisted into a different shape altogether. Taking a deep breath, Ashe sheathes her sword and steps up to the glittering symbol.
"What is the power of Belias?" she asks Basch in a low voice, her blue-gray eyes scanning over the Esper's remains.
"Strength," Basch replies flatly. "But not as simple as you might think. Belias gives strength through instinct and knowledge; I know not of this creature's might."
"Mateus," she whispers.
"What's that?" Vaan frowns, stepping up to her side. Ashe shakes her head, pressing her palm to the symbol. In a brilliant show of sparks, the image disappears and Ashe shudders.
"Well?" Balthier asks, crossing his arms. He's impatient, eyebrow raised.
"The power to heal," she replies, staring at her pale fingers a moment longer before shaking her head and walking toward the door at the other end of the room. "The blade should be just ahead."
"I don't doubt that," I sigh.
She pushes the door open to reveal a dim room glowing with blue runes and pillars. Curious markings of old Dalmasca litter the dark space, leading all the way up to the largest rune of all. It's a circle of twisted gold surrounded by smaller blue circles and filled with an even smaller blue pattern. Entranced, the princess walks up the stairs and close to the luminous panel. The gold circle begins to spin, awakened by her presence. The very center panel opens up and inside rests the Sword of Kings, a blade with a hollowed center and an array of spikes across the top.
Ashe pulls the Dawn Shard free, the nethicite now glowing a vibrant violet in response to the blade's aura. The pillars and spinning circles flash gold and stop their turning, their blue glow fading with the flash. The Sword of Kings absorbs the light, slowly drifting from its shelf and floating toward Ashe. The princess reaches up, gingerly wrapping her fingers around the grip. And then it clatters to the ground, heavier than she expected.
"You should try it on the Dawn Shard," Vaan suggests, stepping closer to her. "See if it can destroy nethicite or not."
"What?"
"He may just be on to something," Balthier comments, rests his hands on his hips. I roll my eyes but hold my tongue. He doesn't seem to be the fondest of the stuff, now does he? He nods his head toward his shoulder, shrugging when Ashe turns to face him. "The Dawn Shard's no use to us, after all."
Sighing, Ashe nods, turning and setting the Dawn Shard on a smaller raised part of the floor. She steps back, sword in hand. Suddenly, the Dawn Shard lights up again, a weak flicker in the dark.
"The Stone bleeds Mist," Ashe mutters.
"It has been roused," Fran replies. "It fears the sword."
Ashe stares ahead into the greenish cloud the Shard emits, gasping and lost in a daze. Frowning, I step forward to see what she's looking at, only to feel my breath catch in my throat. A tall, build man with tanned skin, a rough canvas shirt and a familiar spear sheathed on his back. Dern? I blink and then he's gone, nothing there.
My heart pounds in my chest, bringing me back to reality. I suddenly realize I've stepped forward, my hands balled into fists at my side and my mouth gaping; the others look confused. Their focus is drawn away when Ashe raises the sword over her head with great effort, taking a deep breath. It comes crashing down as she cries out, striking. And she misses. The Dawn Shard stops leaking Mist, its glow flickering out.
"You missed," I say dryly, the image of Dern's grin still vibrant in the back of my mind. I shake my head; Mist plays the cruelest tricks on the minds of the vulnerable.
"The Stone is quiet," Fran murmurs.
"This is the sword," Ashe nods. "The nethicite destroyer."
"Should it find its mark," Balthier grumbles, struggling to contain his irritation. Abruptly, he turns on his heels and paces away, leaving the rest of us behind in a fit of fighting anger. Sighing, Fran follows, brushing past me. I spare Ashe one last glance before starting to leave.
"Wait," Ashe calls. "Vaan, tell me. Did you see him again?"
"Who?" I demand, coming back to the thief's side.
"Rasler," he replies, his eyes falling to the ground. "And no, I didn't. Not a thing... Not even my brother." His voice is quiet, disappointed. "Not... not anything." He turns away quickly, following the others. Basch is surprisingly long gone, leaving with Penelo as Vaan and Ashe spoke. Ashe's eyes flicker to the floor, her fingers playing over the surface of the Dawn Shard.
"I saw something," I admit finally, earning her attention. "But it wasn't Rasler."
"Who...?" Her question cuts off. "Your partner?" I nod, crossing my arms.
"I'm not sure why, but I saw him, standing there with the biggest grin on his face." I scoff, shaking my head. "Not that it means anything. Mist plays tricks on the minds of the weak. I suppose I've let my defenses slip a bit too far." When she doesn't reply, I head out the door to the exit of the Stilshrine, our mission accomplished.