CHAPTER FIVE

Archades's Intentions

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Whenthe reality of a situation finally hits home, it can take a harsh and tragic toll on the person. The supreme truths earlier buried beneath clouded hopes can break the will to a point of no recovery. The slow change that had come over the ailing Emperor Gramis Gana Solidor – fourth ruler of Archades – distilled the spirits of the people. His four sons crept to their father's aid, but as the years passed and no change occurred, Larsa became the only truly faithful heir. Perhaps that was why Gramis spent the entire twelve years of Larsa's young life, keeping him away from the troublesome world of war and politics.

Gramis would often say to his youngest son, "Don't let the world's strong-front fool you, Larsa. It – like I – is ailed by its own dreaded worries."

His father's illness had brought a deep dismay and a naïve adult mindset upon Larsa. For years, he acted as his father's voice – instructing soldiers and reporting to the Archadian Senate, despite Gramis' protests to his son taking on such responsibilities. As the years passed, Vayne was witness to his younger brother's childhood demise.

Caught up in the duties of general command and overlook of the kingdom and its health, Vayne Carudas Solidor grew weary of the repetitive tasks through the years. His patience for his father to pass the throne along to another began to grow thin. Still, the man held his tongue firmly and did what he could to take careful watch over his family. Even though the sight of Larsa and their father together sickened him at times, Vayne also drew comfort in knowing that Larsa had someone to turn to when he himself wasn't around.

The endlessly tiresome task of finding Nethicite to strengthen both forces and the people's demanding need of technology, took its toll on Vayne. The slumped weariness of his features could no longer be easily hid. Discourage was drawn from his haggard appearance as rumors of the deathly sickness' return strung worry over Ivalice. The nation had already been befallen once by the unpredictable illness, and dread of its return broke the recovering hopes of Archades's people.

Vayne was browsing through the reports of various articles on the subject when there came a prominent rap on his bedroom door. Raising his gaze from where his chin rested on his fist at the desk to one side of his room, Vayne considered the interruption for a moment. He could quite simply remain quiet and let the person walk away – leaving Vayne to his reading and what little peace he was offered before bed. However, with the recent expansion in the desperate search for Nethicite, he wasn't ready to let anything lay to wait.

In a crisp, British accent, Vayne called out with suppressed irritation, "Enter."

The creak of the slowly opening door was followed by heavy footsteps as a middle-aged man dressed in large, black armor stepped into the room. Pressing a hand to his chest in salute and recognition – large, jutting helm resting beneath his arm at his side – Judge Magister Ghis' stern face and backset eyes locked faithfully on his leader's strong, unwavering gaze.

In a similar British accent, Ghis announced in a moderately low tone, "Our attempts to enter Henne Mines have been pushed back."

With a soft scowl, Vayne tossed the article in his lap aside – watching it for a moment as it fluttered onto the desk with the mismatched pile of similar displayed titles. Ghis didn't flinch at his lord's clear irritation, but instead waited patiently for a minute before prompting respectively, "My Lord?"

At this, Vayne raised his gaze accusingly. He considered the Judge before him for a minute before turning to stroking his chin in thought. The search for Nethicite over the years remained fruitless, and without access to the Henne Mines, would most likely remain so. Dalmasca refused to yield authority to the Archades Empire and the forces backing them. They presented a strong front – and not sitting on the throne – Vayne didn't have the authority to set the lines of a battlefield.

As silence passed, Ghis' gaze remained fixated on his leader and to the extravagant, threaded tapestries and various flags hanging decoratively from the stone walls. The lord's room was well kept and organized with various antiques of other lands, including strange items and devices the Judge had yet to see on the marketplace. Rumors amongst the people stated that Vayne had connections with merchants in Spira. Ghis had refused to believe that any son of Gramis would coincide with members of the Other World, but the strange items in the room made the man wonder.

As if catching Ghis' thoughts, Vayne raised a stern look to the Judge, and Ghis quickly returned his attention to the lord. Laying his arm on the desk, Vayne surveyed his faithful servant with interest before prompting in a flat, quiet tone, "What of the people? Do they remain faithful despite our wasted efforts?"

Shifting slightly as Vayne spat the word accusingly, Ghis fixated his eyes above his leader's head before replying promptly in an impassive voice, "Their loyalty remains strong to the royal blood."

The thought of the 'royal blood' disgusted Vayne thoroughly. His family was elected to the control of Archades, and a pheasant was just as likely to take the throne next. He suspected though that the role of Emperor – despite his father's wishes – would go to Larsa soon enough. Perhaps if the role did go to him though…

New thoughts and premises of the idea of Emperor played in Vayne's mind. Seeing the thoughtful look passing over the man's face, Ghis prompted again, "My Lord?"

This time, the title didn't enrage the man. Instead, Vayne looked up squarely into the man's eyes as he considered his faithful follower. Resting his chin against a fist, Vayne asked, "Tell me Ghis, what do you know of Spira?"

Finding this question thoroughly sudden, Ghis cleared his throat as he struggled to pick a plausible answer that wouldn't trigger a mood swing in the prince. Finally, he settled on the simple statement: "Not much, Lord Vayne. Spira remains disconnected from Ivalice and the nation's ways."

Giving a curt, understanding nod of this, Vayne inclined his head in deep thought. His furrowed brow made him look continuously hot-tempered. His shoulder-length, dark hair swayed to shield his face and the real feeling lying behind his perceptive eyes. At last, Vayne spoke in an even mid-tone; "Do a thorough research of Spira – send a scout to report back on their basic ways and the races resting there."

Thoroughly interested by Vayne's hidden plans, Ghis clamped his mouth shut firmly. With a straight salute, he paused before turning on heel and heading for the door. The Judge closed the door to the quiet silence of the room and the chaos erupting in his lord's mind.

A good soldier follows orders only – and never raises question to a mission nor the result that may come of it. A good soldier is willing to die for their country or a fellow man, but knows how to hold their own. A good soldier knows when to stand and fight, and when retreat is the better cause – a good soldier never surrenders.

By these standards, Cloud wasn't a good soldier. The same thoughts and techniques drilled into the common fighter's mind didn't apply to him. The Archadian army was consisted of puppets, and Cloud refused to be one of them any longer. Every time he tried to withdraw though, Vayne Solidor would always find a way to loop him back, or capture him.

When the draft came claiming his next mission, Cloud narrowed his cold, blue eyes at the thick parchment – scanning the words repeatedly to understand the terms. The messenger had already strolled off to complete other necessary deliveries. With an exasperated sigh, the blonde-spiky haired youth leaned back against the stone platform. The door to the shop opened with a clear jingle of bells. The woman stepping out – basket laden with flowers resting on her arm – eyed him as she strode briskly down the slope and disappeared into a crowd of children.

To the citizens of Archades, Cloud was nothing more than a mercenary boy – doing as the lords wished. They didn't see the hidden magikal shackles bounding him to Vayne's will and mercy – or lack of.

With a grunt, the imprisoned youth pushed himself to his feet. Dusting himself off a bit, he scanned the long sloping street – eyes catching on the gleam of each Arcadian soldier's armor. Cloud was the only one fighting against his will for this country, and it wasn't even his.

Vayne's plans were issued quietly from his own personal control – and therefore remained unknown to the rest of the royal family. Even if Larsa knew of his older brother's plans, he wouldn't have understood their full meaning. Larsa hoped for an alliance between Ivalice and Spira. Perhaps then, his father could truly relax and begin to recover from the illness befallen him. Despite Gramis' comforting words, Larsa understood – at least to the extent a sheltered child could – the desperate situation of his father's health.

What would happen if the Emperor died? Would Vayne take the throne, and keep their bloodline in control? Would Vayne accept the role even? He often spoke in dislike of the role of Emperor. He would rather serve and advise the ruler, then act as ruler himself.

Larsa felt impartial about the situation. He was young – only twelve – and understood little about the world's troubles. What was the dispute between Ivalice and Spira? Gramis seemed unable to give an answer, but Larsa suspected that it was something other then the technology crisis Spira expressed. In truth, the youth didn't understand how a world could advance and exist without the use of mechanics – for travel, protection, and the daily routine of life.

Larsa was sitting in his room contemplating this when a sharp knock came at his door. The sound shot the youth from his deep thinking, and jumping a little, Larsa had to take a deep breath before he could call in a calm voice, "Come in."

The strict, proud face of his brother appeared around the opening door. His dark, attentive eyes met his sibling's with a soft, caring look. Pushing himself to his feet – mood thoroughly lightened at the rare visit from Vayne – Larsa gestured him inside, saying enthusiastically, "Brother – please, close the door."

Letting it shut quietly behind him, Vayne strode closer. When he was mere feet from his brother, the man gazed around the room very similar to his own. Larsa had long since out-grown toys – having to care to their father's health for several years now. Vayne himself was consumed in the empire's affairs, and was permitted little time to even gather thoughts that didn't consider the welfare of his people.

Looking to his secretly anxious brother now, Vayne announced in a soft tone, "I'm here on pressing time, Larsa."

The boy's spirit faltered at these words, and the youth replied softly, "Oh," before turning and sitting in the cushioned, wooden chair at his desk. Larsa's eyes were fixated on his hands as he rested them on the wooden surface. After a moment, he raised his gaze to inquire, "Then what may I be of help with?"

Ever the serious one, Vayne noted quietly. You have grown far too quick, little brother of mine…

After a moment, Vayne stepped closer, and said in a light tone, "I have to conduct a research in Spira for hopes of permitting a treaty."

This perked Larsa's interest thoroughly, and he watched his older brother attentively. Far back before he was born, Spira and Ivalice had claimed their differences and gone their separate ways. There had been small hope of treaties since then. His father claimed that the Spirans blamed Ivalice for Sin's arrival. With the belief the monstrous, destructive creature came from its use of technology, it was no wonder that Spira wanted to take precautions and not involve itself with Ivalice.

"Do you think they will listen?"

With a deep nod of his head, Vayne noted, "I believe that with time, Spira and its Maesters will begin to notice the folly of their ways and speak peace terms."

Considering this statement for a patient moment, Larsa prompted now in pure curiosity, "But what does this matter have to do with me?"

Striding towards the neatly made bed and staring at the window and the waning sky beyond, Vayne seemed to contemplate this question for a minute before saying the words carefully; "I was thinking this a chance for you to experience Spira for yourself." Turning towards his brother with a light smile now, Vayne noted, "After all, how many more chances will there be? Enjoy it now, when you are still young and untroubled."

Larsa's eyes widened at these words as they started to register. Within moments, the youth was on his feet and throwing himself towards his brother. Vayne rested a hand on Larsa's shoulder as he waited patiently – a small smile creeping on his face as ambitions shone secretly in his eyes. When at last Larsa parted from the man's strong form, he raised his bewildered gaze – disbelief still shining in his narrow, youthful pupils.

The liveliness has been sucked away in his stay here, Vayne noted with an inner grimace. Father is a leech on Larsa, knowing nothing more than to suck to live.

"A-Are you serious?" Larsa prompted with a flourish of his accent. Thoughts of the foreign country brought a flutter of excitement and anticipation within him. The little prince had seen little outside Archades. To travel to a completely new world was a big step and change from his boring and demanding daily routine. Then the youth's face fell at this realization, as he muttered quietly, "Father, he…"

With a shake of his head, Vayne told his brother firmly, "Don't worry about the Emperor. I will personally make sure he is well attended to." At this, Larsa raised a grateful, lightened gaze and the years that seemed to have added to his true age began to melt away. It was a comforting sight, and for a minute, Vayne even forgot his secret treachery.

Clapping his brother on the shoulder and stepping back, Vayne decided it was best to leave before his conscience got the better of him. Turning and heading for the door, Vayne hid a contemplative smirk as visions of the upcoming events flashed in his daring, fiery orbs. Soon life for both himself and Archades would change, and Spira would reach a drastic situation that would quickly solve this ongoing struggle between the two sides of the world.

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Inspired Music: "Be Prepared" - Disney's Lion King OST