I sling the greenish blood from the tip of my spear to the sandstone beneath my feet, grimacing at the scent of rotting flesh that seeps from the crumpled creature before me. Vaan hisses as Penelo gingerly looks over a gash in his arm from one of the beast's curled gray claws. Sheathing her sword, Ashe steps toward the towering gates of the tower's base, walking steadily past the gray, wrinkled undead dragon to her left. Vaan walks past her, staring up at a bronze plaque on the stone wall.
"Hey, Fran. Something's written on the wall."
"Engraved by someone, it seems," the viera replies, taking long steps up to his side. "It's quite old." One of her speckled ears twitches and she begins to read. "'Lo, seeker in days unborn, god-blade bearer. Know you: this tower challenges the sky. Ware the watcher; the ward of the Three Waits, soul-hungry, unsated. He without power, want it not. He with power, trust it not. He with sight, heed it not. Rend illusion, cut the true path. In blood, Raithwall.'"
"The Dynast-King?" Ashe cries, rushing forward.
"Does it startle you?" Fran replies, a gentle laughter surprisingly clear in her voice. "The Dynast-King took his sword from the Occuria. It was here he claimed the nethicite. He must have known he was not the last the Occuria would choose. He left this for you." Fran shakes her head, walking past Ashe. "Rend illusion, cut the true path. Words of much mystery. Yet his blood run sin your veins. Perhaps it whispers to you the truth?"
Awed, Ashe steps up to the enormous gates of the tower, pressing a palm to the golden gate. A brilliant blue flash lights up the sky and the seam between the doors, a low rumbling rising from the ground beneath us.
Basch is hot on her heels, stepping inside the temple with a stern expression, scanning for enemies in the dim blue light. I follow Fran, blinking to adjust my eyes to the darkness. The sound of crashing water floods my ears. A waterfall pours down the very center of the towering structure, casting lights across the blue brick walls. But this water is different, for it flows toward the sky in stream of fine mist. Penelo dares to approach the edge of the ground floor, reaching out a hand to touch the water, Gasping, she pulls away with the droplets scatter away from her, continuing their journey to the top.
"How's that even possible?" Vaan asks, scratching the back of his head. Balthier crosses his arms, watching the falls.
"Something's pulling it up," he muses. Fran's ear twitches; Vaan turns and frowns at the sky pirates.
"But why? Does it make clouds or something?"
"Or it's being used to fuel something," I suggest, shrugging when I earn everyone's eyes. "Steam power, perhaps. Power for what, I don't know. At any rate, I can't be bothered to speculate about this any longer. We should get to the Sun-cryst as quickly as possible."
"Agreed," Ashe nods, glancing at the dark passageway that echoes with the growls and cries of the monsters that lie within.
"Shall we?" Reddas asks, arching an eyebrow.
"Better now that never," I mutter with a sigh, leading the charge into the darkness with only the fuel of the sudden urge to face Vayne once and for all energizing me to make my move. Your turn, brother.
The eight of us are beaten, bloody, bruised, and beyond exhausted by the time we make it to the final lift at the very top of the tower. Vaan's lip has been busted several times over, Penelo's weak from the sheer number of times she's casted the same simple curing spells, Balthier has a strip of Basch's shirt tied around his bicep to stop the bleeding from a gash, and our supply of potions and patience ran out long ago. Ashe walks with a slight limp alongside Basch, who's covered in enough cuts to butcher a cockatrice and then some. I walk beside Fran, my muscles aching, my sides pinching, and my feet screaming for a break. As long as the Imperials don't stop, we keep going.
The elevator creaks to a stop, revealing to us a clear path to a beaming ray of light dead ahead. The top of the tower holds no one but us. Reddas steps forth, awed in the light of the artifact.
"So this is the Sun-cryst," he murmurs. The closer we get, the more we can recognize that the beams of light are, in fact, solid beams of glowing crystal that envelop the relic, protecting from greedy hands and selfish souls.
"King Raithwall stood here," Ashe says, drawing the Sword of Kings and eyeing its glittering hilt. "With this sword he cut the Sun-cryst and took its power in his hand."
"But you're going to use the sword to destroy the Sun-cryst," Vaan interrupts, stepping closer to her. Ashe's eyes fall, flickering between the blade and the crystal as she thinks. "Aren't you, Ashe?"
"Don't interrupt me, Vaan," she sighs, but her tone is light and there's a soft smile on her face.
In her other hand she takes the Treaty Blade and thrusts it toward the sky. A whirlwind of blue sparks erupts from the sword, blowing a gusting wind about. A rippling breeze that burns red like fire circles the base of the tower and swirls up to reach the top quickly. Basch and I watch as the fiery tendrils meeting the blade's winds and color the sky in a burst of vibrant orange symbols. Clouds rumbling with thunder and flashing with lightning swarm toward the tower in a rush, drawn by the magick. The sky becomes black and winds howl outside the confines of the tower's balcony.
Before Ashe, the Sun-cryst lays bare, unguarded. She starts forward, gripping the Sword of Kings, but suddenly stops with a gasp. I frown, uncertain of her shock, but then I remember; the visions. Only this time, I don't see Dern and Vaan doesn't see his brother, Reks. There's nothing. A pit opens at the bottom of my stomach and I slowly walk up behind Ashe, watching her hesitant halt.
"Lord Rasler?" Basch says, clearly surprised.
"You see something?" I ask, glancing back at him. Ashe's voice draws me back.
"You want revenge," she states plainly, but her voice is full of anger. "You would have me use the Stone? You would have me destroy the Empire?" she demands. "Is this my duty?! Is this what you want?!" Huffing, she shakes her head. "I cannot."
"Why do you hesitate?" comes a muffled voice. I jump, startled, and turn to see the figure of a heavily armored man walking along the tower's edge, swords drawn. "Take what is yours. The Cryst is a blade. It was meant for you. Wield it! Avenge your father!" Ashe gasps and the man steps closer. I draw my spear slowly, readying myself for what's to come. "Yes, it was I who wore Basch's face—who cut down the life of Dalmasca—Lady Ashe! Your father's murderer is here!"
"You?!" Ashe cries, horrified.
"And Reks!" Vaan shouts, enraged.
"I slew your king. I slew your country. Do these deeds not demand vengeance?" The soldier twists the ends of his swords together, forming one long, bladed staff. I raise my spear. Ashe raises the Treaty Blade, glowering. "Yes. Good! Find your wrath! Take up your sword! Fight, and serve those who died before you!"
"He's goading you!" I shout over the howling wind. "We'll find our vengeance through other means!" Before I can react, the Judge rushes toward Vaan and raises his weapon to strike. An echoing clang resounds through the air as Reddas dives forth and blocks the strike with the flat of his blade, glaring up at the man's helmet.
"A Judge Magister there was," the pirate grits through clenched teeth. "Two years past, he took in his hand the Midlight Shard, stolen from Nabradia, and used it not knowing what he did, and Nabudis was blown away. Cid ordered this of him to learn the nethicite's true power." Reddas pushes against his blade, forcing the Judge back. "That man swore never to let such terrible power be used again. He forsook his Judicer's plate, and his name." The Judge shoves back, pulling his weapon free.
"Judge Zecht," he says calmly.
"It's been too long, Gabranth," Reddas replies, readying his daggers for another attack. "Reach out your hand, Lady Ashe! But remember, that which you must grasp is something beyond revenge, something greater than despair. Something beyond our reach. Try as we might, Gabranth, history's claims bind us too tightly." Irritated, Gabranth lashes out, swinging at Reddas. His attacks send Reddas to the ground several feet away. Heart hammering in my chest, I prepare to interfere.
"No, we cannot escape the past. This man is living proof!" the Judge cries, pointing at Reddas with his weapon. "What is your past, Daughter of Dalmasca? Did you not swear revenge? Do the dead not demand it?!"
Ashe, silent, stares at whatever apparition of Rasler she sees. Vaan picks up the dagger Rassler dropped on his way to the floor, glaring at the Judge before him as the princess weighs her options. There's nothing but the howling of the wind for a few miserable moments; Vaan and Ashe exchange a gaze that seems to turn the world upside down for the two of them. Vaan's rage fades and Lady Ashe's eyes fall to the ground before she speaks.
"Rasler. My prince. Our time was short. Yet I know this: you were not the kind to take base revenge!" she shouts, swinging her sword through the air as though she cut the ghost in half. "The Rasler I knew... is gone."
"You are a saint, Ashelia B'nargin," a demonic voice says, its voice scratchy and varied in tone. "You must use the nethicite. You must be the one to strengthen history's weave!" A burst of blue lights sprays from the place before Ashe and scatters.
"I am no false saint for you to use!"
"Ashe..." Vaan whispers.
"In all Dalmasca's long history, not once did we rely on the Dusk Shard," Ashe says slowly, brow furrowed. "Our people resolved to never use I, though their need might be dire. That was the Dalmasca I wanted back. To use the Stone now would be to betray that." Sharply, she turns to face us. "I will destroy the Sun-cryst! I will discard the Stone!"
"You claim no need of power?" Gabranth demands. "What of your kingdom's broken shame? The dead demand justice!"
"You're wrong," Vaan replies. "What would change? I can't help my brother now. My brother's gone. He's dead!"
"The dead demand nothing," I say, shaking my head. "All that remains is their empty bodies and their legacies, and neither can be carried by pretending they live. Adamar's gone—his time is long past. There's nothing overtaking the Empire with the Crysts can do about that."
"Even with power, we cannot change what has passed. What is done, is done." Ashe drops the Dusk Shard to the ground, watching it roll to the foot of Gabranth without so much as a glimmer. Gabranth shakes his head.
"Without power, what future can you claim? What good is a kingdom you cannot defend?"
"Then I will defend queen and kingdom both!" Basch replies quickly, stepping past Vaan.
"Ha! Defend? You? You who failed Landis and Dalmasca? What can shame hope to keep safe?!" Gabranth breaks the polearm into two swords, clearly angered. "Your shield is shattered! Your oaths poison those you would protect!"
Without further warning, Gabranth rushes at his twin brother. Being the closest to Basch, I rush to the side, baring my spear as a measly shield to block the initial blow. The power behind the attack nearly knocks me straight to the ground, but I grit my teeth and push back, bearing the pain as Gabranth cuts into my side while I get a good stab into his armor. I stumble away from the frenzy of attacks Gabranth lets loose at his brother, watching Basch block with adept speed, but never once fight back. Vaan dives in, jamming his dagger into the hole I made and tearing it wider. The Judge grunts, swatting the thief away with the hilt of his blade only to be struck by the sharp edge of Ashe's sword. He steps back, facing his brother.
"Hear me, Basch! Do not think that killing the kingslayer will win you back your honor! When you abandoned home and kin, your name was forever stained with blood! "
"Aye, the stain is mine to bear," Basch acknowledges calmly. "But I will bear it willingly, knowing that I did all that I could for hope!"
"Preen and strut as you like! In the end, we are the same! Blood-thirsting carrion birds, hell-bent on revenge!" With that, he reattaches his swords and lunges back into the fight.
Balthier's bullets and Fran's arrows hardly make a dent, and so the pair keep their distance. Vaan gets Gabranth tangled up on his own two feet as he darts around close to the ground. Basch continues to defend, and when he pushes back particularly hard, I ram the end of my spear into the base of his helmet with as much force as I can possibly muster. Gabranth cries out, knocked backward several steps from the blow. Panting, he stands back, swords weakly raised.
"So you, too, would leave your debts unpaid?" he demands.
"Enough of this!" My stomach clenches at the sound of the familiar voice and I meet Balthier's irritated scowl. "I can bear no more!" Doctor Cid steps forth, clutching the Dusk Shard in one hand. "You disappoint me, Gabranth. He trusted you." Cid shoves the Judge aside, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "When you bared steel against the Princess, you foreswore your obligation to your emperor! You shame yourself and make mockery of Lord Larsa's trust." He eyes the Shard, pushing his glasses up with one finger. "You are unfit to serve him as sword or shield. And so, I release you from that service. Your presence is neither required nor welcome."
Doctor Cid strides past, head held high and shoulders back. Gabranth trembles with rage, gripping his weapons so tightly that his hands shake. Growling, he rushes forward to attack the older man. Basch cries out a warning, but flashing red eyes meet him first and Venat transports Cid back to the Judge's side. The scientist flashes a cocky smirk before Venat throws Gabranth across the tower's peak like he weighs nothing more than a feather. The Judge slams into the wall and collapses to the ground with a heaved sigh. Balthier sighs and joins the rest of the party where we've gathered.
"You were only a tool of this Venat," he says simply, though I can see the rage building in him purely from seeing his father.
"How quaint," Doctor Cid replies, his voice mocking. "We are allies! The Occuria give men power as a master feeds his dog: it is meant to tame us. How well you've resisted their wile." Cid's eyes flare with excitement. "By turning your back on the stones, you give us free hand to write our own history."
"And at what price?" Ashe counters, scowling. "Dalmasca's freedom for your nethicite? I shall not suffer you to have it. The Sun-cryst be damned!" Doctor Cid bellow outs a laugh and rushes toward the crystal; I shake my head in disbelief.
"He's a bloody lunatic!"
"That's for damn sure," Balthier mutters.
"Oh, be sure that it is!" Cid cries. "For what other purpose do you think you're brought us here? But, Milady, I would have you stay your Occurian sword! The Sun-cryst is glutted with mist, and so precious a thing must not be squandered! Let us use the Stone! Finish this, Venat!" Colorful clouds of light swirl above us and Cid lets out a maniacal laugh, throwing his arms out to the side. "Shards of nethicite! Cocoon of the Sun-cryst! Spill forth your Mist upon this Ivalice! Let sea and sky be awash in it, that Bahamut may come and drink his fill!"
The lights above our heads burst into waves of bright heat. I wince, shielding my face with my forearm and bracing myself to keep the winds from knocking me over. Fran's hair whips past my ear and she grunts, gritting her teeth as she, too, battles the magick. From the corner of my eye, I see Balthier peer up over his arm and glower at his father, who continues to shout nonsense to the sky.
"And lo! How brightly burned their lanthorn! Casts it back the shadow of Occurian design! Testament that Man's history shall be His alone!"
"You made your nethicite for this?" Balthier growls, nothing but anger showing in his features. He glares straight into the blinding light, stepping forward. "You mimic the Occuria's Stone for what? To become a god yourself?!" he shouts over the wind, fists balled at his sides.
"On whose shoulders better to stand than those of the would-be-gods!? Such high hopes I once had, but you ran, and ran, and they with you! Alas, the hour of your return is late!"
"You hoped for nothing but control!" I shriek over the screaming wind, but my words fall on deaf ears.
"Come, Ffamran! Revel in the glory of my triumph!" Cid bellows. Balthier practically snarls, overflowing with hatred as his father rushes toward us. One, two, three bullets pierce his chest, but he keeps coming. The light dims almost immediately, and I'm hardly left enough time to blink away the darkness before I'm bludgeoned over the head with one of the scientist's narrow firearms. "Down, down, down goes House Solidor!" Cid cries with glee, turning to shoot at Vaan. Basch drags me to my feet.
"You're alright?"
I don't answer, rushing toward the old man and using the pole of my spear to knock Cid's guns upward before stabbing his side. Blood stains his jacket and drips down the side of his body, but he doesn't react, knocking my spear to the ground and sending a spray of bullets my way. I cry out in pain, falling back onto my elbows as my spear clatters away. Fran's arrow pierces his heart and he pulls it free, stopped only by a wave of flames summoned by the viera's palm. Balthier shoots his father; Ashe and Basch attack with their swords. Penelo heals me with a Cure spell and I hurry to pick up my spear when Reddas suddenly rushes forward and throttles Cid to the ground. The old man's injuries seem to hit him like a wall and he clambers to his feet, chuckling as his wounds stitch back together. He pulls out a glowing orange crystal, beaming.
"Behold manufacted nethicite, the fruit of our power and knowledge! See what the Stone of Man is capable of! Witness its power with your own eyes!" He hurls it across the tower, cackling. "Famfrit! To me!"
The crystal bursts and a looming, golden giant appears. An Esper. Cid readies his guns yet again, still laughing. Reddas, Vaan, and Basch head toward Famfrit immediately. I snatch up my spear and run to stab Cid in the back while he's preoccupied with Ashe; my attack is deflected as though he's made of stone. Huffing, I turn to attack Famfrit when its engulfed completely in a shower of sparks from Fran. The Esper freezes completely, jerking only twice before collapsing completely. With a final hiss, it dissolves in a spray of blue sparks, reforming only into a spinning shard of symbols.
Balthier fires his gun three times; Cid groans, gasping and raising his firearms with shaky hands. They slip from his fingers and clatter to the ground. With a weak, pain groan, he falls forward. Balthier slings his weapon onto his back, rushing forward only to be stopped by the ghostly form of Venat. Balthier glowers, opening his mouth to speak, only to be stopped by Cid's wheezing voice.
"Let him by, Venat. It is done." Cid carefully begins to push himself to his feet, wincing. "Ah, how I have enjoyed these six years."
"The pleasure was all mine," Venat replies, his voice sharp and rippling between octaves. The Occuria moves to the right and reveals the bloodied scientist to his bitter, wayward son. Frowning at the fading hands and feet of his father, Balthier speaks.
"Was there no other way?" he asks, brows furrowed. Cid chuckles, shaking his head.
"Spend your pity elsewhere. If you are so set on running, hadn't you best be off?" Cid cracks the slightest of smiles that I dare call warm, perhaps even fond. "Fool of a pirate." Balthier's face turns to one less readable as the last of his father fades away, his eyes locked on the last place Cid stood for a long moment. Suddenly, a thud greets my ears and I turn to see Fran lying on the ground, eyes screwed shut.
"Fran!"
Penelo and I rush to the viera's side. The girl brushes the hair from Fran's face and I press my fingers to her neck to get a pulse. Her heart's gone haywire.
"The Mist burns," Fran forces, sounding far weaker than we've ever heard her. "To bursting it beats. The cocoon!" Balthier snaps out of whatever trance he was in and crouches beside his partner. Penelo shuffles out of the way, worried. "The Sun-cryst bursts," Fran moans, shuddering. "You must run as far as you can." A soft smile graces Balthier's face for a glimmer of a second before it vanishes.
"Easy, Fran," he says softly, his eyes gentle as he watches his friend suffer. Fran presses a clawed hand to his cheek, crimson eyes searching his face.
"Hadn't you best be off?" she asks earnestly. "That's what a sky pirate does. You fly, don't you? So take Shae and fly far, far away." Closing his eyes, Balthier takes Fran's hand in his before giving her a cocky half-smile.
"I suppose you'd better hang on then. Shae's not replacing you anytime soon."
"Damn," I reply softly, forcing a smile.
"You must quit this place!" Reddas shouts. "It's reacting! I've never seen it's like before. Nay, never this large. Never such threat impendent." He pulls the blade from Ashe's hands; I leap to my feet.
"Reddas—"
"For Nabudis!"
"Reddas!" Vaan protests. The pirate rushes through the force of the Sun-cryst's magick wind and leaps into the air, sword overhead. "Reddas, no!"
"I, Judge Magister, condemn you to oblivion!"
"No!" I scream, leaping to my feet.
But it's far too late. Balthier lifts Fran over his shoulder and clutches my arm, dragging us far away from the blast that impacts the tower the instant the Sword of Kings meets the Sun-cryst. A wave of blinding light and immense heat blast us as we rush down into the tower with everyone else hot on our heels. We don't stop sprinting until we're on the Strahl and high in the air, watching the tower burst from the pressure of the exploding stone.
Fran lies on the fold-out bed behind the cabin door with Penelo at her side, and even shielded from the blast, she can feel the burn of the blast. Vaan stands between me and Balthier, gray eyes locked on the flames licking at the ancient temple.
"Reddas," he murmurs.
"He saved us," Ashe replies gently.
"Yeah, but..." The boy's voice trails off. I sigh, glancing at Balthier.
"But how long will it last?"
"As long as you'd like," Balthier replies after a moment, pulling a lever on his control panel and turning us away from the scene. "As long as you don't get yourself killed."
"That's right," I mutter, shuddering. My heart skips a beat and I suddenly forget to breathe. "All that's left... is Vayne."