Unexpected Aftershock

A Final Fantasy XII fiction.

Author's Notes

At last I've found time to work on yet another chapter. Again I apologize to all who were waiting for this, but I simply do not believe in rushing one's work, as the end result is only half of what the author intended it to be. But here it is at last, the third chapter.

NOTE: There will also be a slightly graphic fight scene in this chapter. Just a small heads-up.

Chapter 3

The Valiant

"Enter,"

The stone door slowly swung open without a sound, and in trotted a young-looking man, hair falling clear over his shoulders, blue as the sky. He too was dressed in a simple heavy cloak of purple stitching, with the symbol etched in gold across the chest. "Lord Gunther," was the curt reply, along with a small bow.

Gunther smiled behind his long beard, gesturing with his hands for the stranger to come closer, "Ah, Xerthus. I was beginning to think you'd never come"

"You summoned me, and I obeyed." He kept his voice low, and his eyes to the floor.

"Ever a loyal soldier... I like that..." Gunther began to slowly stroke his chin, seemingly forgetting that the other man was even there.

"What is your will, Your Excellency?"

The elder man snapped out of his trance and began to stand, but a mad coughing fit interrupted him, and instantly fell back into the chair. Before Xerthus could reply, another door in the back of the room flew open, out of which came the most stunning woman any ever had seen. A viera with hair like liquid silver spilling clear down her body past the belt line, dressed in simply a small corset that barely covered her entire mid-region. She was instantly at the side of the still coughing Gunther, one arm moving about his shoulders, the other to his cheek.

"My lord, are you well?" Her voice was smooth, like freshly woven silk.

After a moment of feigned coughing, Gunther nodded, "I am all right, Kirai..."

The viera nodded, though refused to leave his side.

Gunther waved a dismissive hand, "Go on, my dear. I shall be with you shortly."

Though ever reluctant, Kirai nodded, and sauntered back into the back, the door following behind her.

Throughout the entire endeavor, Xerthus had not said a word. In fact, he hadn't even moved, giving the impression that he was a stature; a mighty sentinel who watched over his lord.

"Rise, Xerthus, for I have orders for you."

The man did as such, rising from his knelt position, and locking eyes with the elder man. "What is your will?" He repeated.

"I believe it is time to awaken a sleeping monster. Take your men and march into Archades, flying the flag of Dalmasca. Convoy to the lord that you are an envoy from Lady Ashe, and once you are in the center of the city with Larsa drawn out, strike."

There was a pause, then Xerthus spoke up. "You would send me on a suicide mission, my lord?"

Gunther shook his head, "You do not think you could escape the city?"

"Not if I were in the center of it."

This time, Gunther narrowed his eyes, "Are you questioning me, Xerthus? You are but a tool to me, I can easily replace--..."

The man was cut off as the door before the throne was once again thrust open, orange hair instantly catching the attention of Gunther, who shot up from his chair in disgust, "Morgrin! How DARE you barge in here like that! I shall have you beaten to an inch of your life!"

As always, the assassin wore a cocky smirk, "Peace, my lord. I simply wanted to inform you that my men are ready to move out."

Gunther calmed at that, if only a little. "Then why are you standing here? Be gone from my sight, and take care of your duties."

"As you wish, Lord Gunther." With a last bow, Morgrin's body blinked twice, then disappeared.

Xerthus simply put his back to Gunther, and started for the still open door. "I shall do what you command, my lord."

Gunther barely had time to reply, as the door instantly shut itself behind the blue-haired man. Still, he couldn't help but let a grin show amidst the graying beard, "Soon... very soon.." he muttered.

Out in the training hall, it was loud and very noisy. A group of humes had gathered around two seeq who were rapidly throwing themselves at one another, maces and fists flying. But one hume stood out from the others; a woman with hair of chestnut color, which freely fell in the back, and even hung low against her brow. Like Xerthus and Morgrin, the lavender cloak was thrown against her form, though the deep sleeves were cut out to leave her arms bare to the shoulders, along with a small slice down the chest, revealing at best, but still hiding just enough flesh.

"So what did he say?" Said she when that all-too familiar blue hair came into view.

"I am to take my men and head into Archades."

The woman sneered in annoyance, "Suicide mission, huh? What is the old fool thinking?"

He shook his head, "Beside the point, Silmeia. We are his servants, and we will not betray him."

"Ever the loyal soldier, huh Xerthus?" She reflected Gunther's words with a huff, "Not that it matters, but why are you even going? Besides the obvious, I mean."

Xerthus shook his head. "I want Larsa dead and Archadia crushed just as much as Gunther does. But what about you? Why do you do this?"

Silmeia considered the question, then laughed. "I have my own reasons, of which I shall keep to myself."

Xerthus shrugged, "So be it. I must go and prepare." Without another word, he brushed past the woman, and disappeared further into the back. The woman watched him over her shoulder, then turned back around to watch the commotion around her.

Heavy armored boots rapidly thudded and clanged against the marble ground, the helmeted figure moving as fast as the heavy armor would allow him to move. At the sight of him, people of different class moved out of his way, and Imperial soldiers and guards saluted him in the traditional way when he passed. He made no noticeable acknowledgment back to them, and instead continued on his way. When he reached his destination—two large double doors-- he immediately threw them open and marched in. The room was spacious at best, with the Emperor sitting at a desk in the center, surrounded by various persons.

"Ah, Gabranth, there you are." Replied the young lord, and gestured with his hand. Whether he said it out of reflex due to the armor or simply to protect the man's identity was not known. Regardless, the Judge Magister walked in, still keeping the brisk, and noisy pace.

"My lord," he said once he stood before the desk, "I've dispatched several parties throughout the city to learn whatever they could. Only recently have all the tips come back to us."

Larsa instantly rose him his seat at that, sending the persons surrounding him out of the room. Once they were gone, he nodded. "What do you know, Basch?"

The Judge removed his helmet, tucking it beneath his left arm. "Most of the tips are anonymous, though are are extremely helpful. It seems that this 'Shadowed Claw' is indeed a resistance faction. They fly their own banner along with Dalmasca's, and--"

"Dalmasca?" Larsa was clearly shocked. "That is outrageous! We had signed a peace treaty with the Lady Ashe. Why does she allow this to happen?"

"That is where it grows more disturbing, Majesty. Other sources indicate that maybe they missed the word on when the war was over. Some speculate that they believe Dalmasca lost, and they are picking up the reins of battle once more."

The Emperor was stunned, though did not let himself lose face, "Does Lady Ashe know of this?"

"We've received no word from Her Majesty as of yet, though I arranged a message be sent to her."

"That is not good enough, Basch... I would feel more comfortable seeing Lady Ashe in person and informing her myself."

"But Lord Larsa, you cannot leave Archadia, especially not during such times. As it is--..."

"Enough, Basch." He stopped the man with a stern glare. "I want you to have the Leviathan shipped with enough provisions to a two days trip; one to Dalmasca, one back here. Of course, I'll not go unprepared, so arrange a few soldiers and supportive ships to come along as well. You will accompany me, of course. As for the notion on my absence, it will be all right. I've already informed someone to stay here and watch Archades while I am away."

Basch wante so badly to object, or even question exactly who this 'someone' was. It could have been a number of people, really. But he could not say a word, or object in any way, as Larsa was now his emperor. He bowed, and placed the horned helmet back onto his head. "As you wish, my lord. I shall have everything ready by tomorrow."

Larsa nodded, "Good, as that is when I plan to leave; tomorrow."

With one last bow, Basch turned and departed the room, already wondering where to start on his arrangements.

The situation was certainly not looking good for Borgin and his men. By now, they were backed clear against the wreckage of a large ship, all means of escape blocked by the bounty hunters and mercenaries. Still, Borgrin kept a strong face, clutching the ungodly large spear held out in front of himself, threatening to pierce whatever came within striking distance.

"So you will not give up and die, I see. I must say, that is something new coming from Imperials." Ba'gamnan shouted, clearly enjoying this moment.

"You know nothing of our duties, you disgusting bounty hunter!" Retorted Borgrin, "Don't forget, you once worked for us."

The bangaa shot back with a snarl, "And hated every moment of it. I was a fool to shackle myself to a useless sack of spineless cowards."

"You are the one who ran away after you attempted to kill Lord Larsa, knowing full well who he was. I'm ashamed Judge Gabranth did not kill you when he had the chance. No matter, I shall do it myself; you were a fool to come here."

"Boldness will only lead to death, Borgin. And its high time you met your end! KILL THEM!"

With that, the assaulting party charged toward the Imperials, who at Borgrin's command, rushed out to meet them before they were closed in and trapped.

As the two forces clashed together, a wave of noises battered the air. Swords upon swords clattering together, gunshots ringing in the air, the occasional ball of fire of ice spear striking down a poor soul. It was for the better part of a word, chaos.

Borgrin quickly entered the fray, throwing up his weapon at a horizontal angle to block the sword of another hume, before an armored boot met the man's gut and he fell to the ground. He would then spin around, moving fast despite his heavy armor, and thrusting the spear out to catch a bangaa in the neck, a spurt of blood resounding from the wound as the creature fell over, dead. Another spin, and he caught another bangaa racing towards him, sword drawn. Borgin rushed out to meet him halfway, the spear jutting out into the bangaa's gut and out his back on the other side.

It surprised Ba'gamnan just how easily the Imperials fell under his might. Almost instantly he had taken the lives of two soldiers with one swipe of the weapon, the buzz saw cutting into their armor and splitting their chests. When another tried to attack him from behind, the bangaa simply snapped his claw out, digging the talons into the exposed neck; an instant kill, and threw the man to the ground. He snarled, showing rows of teeth filed to points, as the lance was once again thrust out, claiming the head of yet another hume. A fountain of blood gushed up from the wound, and the corpse fell over.

Everywhere where was death. The Imperials were outmatched three to one, and for the better part, their opponents were better trained, this evident from how fiercely they fought. Though they were even in terms of weapons, the mercenaries' army hardly seemed to be dented, much less pierced. It protected them well. Near the back of the line, a small group of rifleman were firing shots out into the fray, though did little more than slightly wound whatever they hit. 'Bullet-proof armor... they came prepared,' Borgin thought to himself once he witnessed this. Further in the back of the line, mages constantly charged various low-level magicks, and slowly thinned the ranks of the oppressers. But like before, it barely did any good. The enemies seemed to just keep coming.

Never once did Borgin stop, always he was moving, taking the life of whatever came before his eyes. Another thrust of his spear and a hume soldier came down. However, he didn't see the second soldier to his left, which quickly brought his ax down upon Borgin's arm. Thankfully, his armor was thick as a turtle's shell, so the ax did not remove the arm, only cutting deeply into the flesh. With a yell of pain and anger, Borgin removed a mytrhil blade from his side, snapping it out at the ax-wielding soldier, taking his life. Despite his injury, he jumped right back into the fray, now swinging both spear and sword about in a mad frenzy, felling soldier, after soldier.

The weapon was thrust left and right many times, the deadly buzz saw claiming the lives of whatever got in its way. The bangaa's green skin was now soaked in blood, giving it an eerie color when mixed with the crimson stains. He loved the flow of battle, how everything and everyone was dying all around him. It was what drove him insane, yet how he derived pleasure from it. Still clutching the weapon, he was about to throw himself into a tangle of imperials, when he and Borgin's eyes met.

Almost instantly, they charged towards one another, spear striking spear. Yet the ever-spinning buzz saw knocked Borgin's weapon aside, and was thrust forward once more, only to be knocked upward by the mytrhil blade. This process was repeated time and time again, neither force seeming to give ground. Each time Borgin went to strike, it was deflected or dodged entirely. Ba'gamnan could barely touch the man, as he used two weapons, and thus could easily block. The two came together yet again, holding their weapons and pushing them together in an effort to throw the other off balance, or to the ground. An airship rumbled overhead, though no one payed attention to it. Each side assumed it was one of their own.

Ba'gamnan snarled, "I'm tired of playing games with you, hume."

Borgin did not reply, though added more pressure to his weapons, trying so hard to knock the bounty hunter off his feet. But to no avail. Borgin took a single step forward, and that was his biggest mistake. Ba'gamnan kicked the remaining leg out from underneath the hume, sending him onto his back in a loud clatter of steel. Before he could even recover, he was met face to face with that deadly buzz saw, the bangaa wickedly grinning on the other end of it.

"Looks like the Empire is finished. And here I thought you were to kill me?"

Borgrin blinked, "You... you work for the resistance, don't you?"

"To an extent. Lord Gunther hired me. He is the leader of the 'resistance,' the Shadowed Claw."

"Shadowed Claw..." Borgin glared up at the creature, "Where do they hide? What are they hoping to accomplish?"

Ba'gamnan grinned wickedly, "They hide amongst you, though you will never find them. Now, pray to your gods, for you shall meet them soon."

He then swung the weapon around for the deathblow, when a sudden explosion shook the ground.

All eyes turned upward to the ship which hovered high above them, even Ba'gamnan was momentarily distracted, Borgrin using this chance to grab his blade and move away from the dangerous lance.

The fighting stopped, and a brief silence settled over the land, each person wondering who this airship intended to aid, and exactly who could be piloting it. The question was answered when the left side of it flared in bright light, as its cannons were fired upon the mercenaries, three explosions once again shaking the ground as corresponding fireballs ripped open their ranks. The soldiers tried to turn and run, but a gatling gun across the bottom of the ship only shredded them as they crossed the line of fire. The ship lowered closer to the ground, when suddenly two behemoth grappling hooks—resembling ships anchors-- were fired from two of the cannons. Each hook struck the ground with loud thuds, digging deep into the dirt and connected with thick metal lines. Four figures, two on each line, began to slide down from the ship at a wicked fast pace. As they neared, a sudden gunshot erupted from one of the figures, then another, and another, each time a different foe was felled. A sudden flurry of arrows took the lives of several more enemies. And when the first two figures hit the bottom of the line, they eyed their foes, the first one speaking with a cocky grin.

"Well now, I believe the leading man has made his appearance."

It was Balthier, and Fran.

"You again!" Ba'gamnan shouted, already being thrown into a rage, "I thought never to see your face again!"

Balthier snorted, "Still at it, Ba'gamnan? I must say, its really quite sad. Why don't you run home to your master with your tail between your legs?"

"We shall see who is the one running, sky pirate!"

The next two figures to leap off of the hook lines were of course the two Rabanastre orphans, Vaan clutching a deadly looking ax. "Now THIS is REAL fun." He exclaimed.

Then the fighting resumed, seemingly more fearsome than it was before.

Vaan immediately jumped into the first group of soldiers that he saw, swinging the ax around with such a skill he never knew he possessed. It quickly brought down a seeq who aimed a broadsword for his neck, only to turn around and clip off the arm of another bangaa. He got so caught up in the moment, he didn't notice a second bangaa lumber up to him, sword at the ready. Vaan whirled around just in time to see an arrow pierce the creature's neck from the back, sticking clear out in the front and pouring blood. "Thanks, Fran!"

"Do not foolishly fight, Vaan. Keep your enemies in sight." Said the viera.

Penelo had stayed behind the others, her body constantly giving off the soft glow of magick. She constantly threw a barrage of fire and thunder at the enemies, saving more potent spells for any that managed to fight their way closer to her. At her side she kept a dagger at the ready, just for when she ran out of magick power. Though she disliked fighting, she knew it was for the greater good.

Balthier did not necessarily stay away from the major points of battle. He ran here and there, firing off shots from his gun, using the butt-end to bash unsuspecting enemies in the face when they were not looking. A dirty trick perhaps. But then again, he was a pirate; he didn't know the meaning of fair play. When someone swung a weapon at him, and it was too heavy or sharp to deflect with his gun, he either shot the poor bastard in the face, or ducked, and rolled out of the way, much to his discontent of 'soiling his cuffs again.'

Fran also stayed away from the front, not too far from Penelo. Always was her bow nocked with an arrow, sometimes two, before they were fired into the waiting soldiers before them. Any one that came before her perhaps imagined her in a different fashion before they were struck down with an arrow to the heart or head. She cared not what others thought of her; she'd never stoop to so low a level. Just near her feet was her quiver of arrows, which she eventually sunk to kneeling on one knee to reach the arrows more quickly.

It appeared that the sight of the four newcomers gave the Imperials more hope, as they now fought more fiercely than ever before. Though Vaan strongly disliked fighting alongside Imperials; where neither he or Penelo ever thought they would. After what seemed like mere seconds, the mercenaries were pushed further back, as the previous shots from the Strahl took out a good hunk of their standing forces. This allowed the Imperials and those who fought alongside them to quickly whittle down their flanks.

Vaan constantly threw himself at any enemy, though not recklessly. He kept his guard up as Fran had warned, striking down whatever came before him, and quickly checking to be sure none were sneaking up on him in an ambush. After taking the head off of another mercenary, he looked up just in time to see Ba'gamnan kill another Imperial. In a rage, he clutched his ax and charged the bangaa, bringing the weapon over his head for a deathblow.

However, it was not to be. Ba'gamnan saw the blond coming well before he even came within striking distance, and threw his own weapon out to catch the ax. Vaan cringed, suddenly regretting this, as the bangaa was far more powerful than he remembered. He wasn't about to back down though, not now at least. For a moment, they both stood there, weapons crossed, and staring each other down. Neither were going to give ground, and the bangaa was beginning to grow tired of playing these games. He knew it was all but over now that Balthier and the others were here, already he could see his men being thinned out quicker and quicker. Still, if he could kill even one of them, he would be satisfied.

A sudden shift of weight, and Ba'gamnan stepped off to the side, causing Vaan to lose his balance and fall forward. He cursed as his weapon slipped out of his sweating hand and started to attempt a recovery, but Ba'gamnan quickly landed a foot into his chest, both knocking the wind out of him, and sending him flat into the dirt.

"Enough of this! Hurry up and die, filthy orphan scum!" He wasted no time in raising his weapon to finish off the boy once and for all. But the blow would never connect.

Mere moments before Vaan was to be killed, two arrows soared over his head, both piercing themselves into the bangaa's gut. Not two seconds later, Balthier stepped from behind a flank soldiers, and fired a single shot into Ba'gamnan's arm holding the weapon. And finally, a small spike of ice shot straight as an arrow through the air, landing itself in Ba'gamnan's other arm. Vaan quickly used this moment to stumble away, disappearing behind a group of Imperials.

Severely injured and bleeding in several places, Ba'gamnan clutched his weapon tightly, and ran fast as he could away from the battle. "Retreat, you fools! This battle will be the end of us all!"

What little bit of mercenaries that were left instantly turned around and followed their leader away from the battle. Before too much longer they had disappeared into the hills.

Borgin stomped up towards the sky pirate, a barely noticeable limp in his step, "You could have killed him easily! Now he will return to the Shadowed Claw and only be of further annoyance to us!"

Balthier shrugged, placing the gun over his right shoulder. "I doubt he will be of any use to this 'Shadowed Claw' now that he is not only severely wounded, but also failed to destroy any of us. If he had turned and ran when we arrived, then I would have shot him down."

Borgin only scowled and stomped off to attend to the wounded. "So much for gratitude." The pirate mumbled to his partner, who nodded slowly.

"I don't think we should stay," Came Penelo's voice, "Those men could be back at any time. And I'm sure Larsa will want to hear about this."

"She is right," Fran agreed, "Archadia's ruler must know of those who threaten his throne."

Balthier nodded, "It's settled then. Next stop: Archades."