The Madness is so cute here, I just wanna hug it and squeeze it and huggle it and—oh wait. He noms on people. Nevermind~ Anywhoo, just because I'm weird, Other Balthier is called Ffamran by Lightning and others. I feel that Lightning would call him by a more endearing name, since the undead Balthier isn't truly on good terms with him. :D

"This has been heckling my mind for a while now, so I must ask: why do you sleep?"

Lightning cracked an eye open to glare at her current annoyance, only to find that Balthier was crouching over her and pinning her to the bed mat. A cat-like smirk was creeping across his face, silver-speckled eyes nearly shining with glee. She sighed deeply, feeling the remaining flecks of Sleep leave her.

"Unlike you, I want to feel alive from time to time," she said with a small yawn. "Mind telling me why you decided to wake me up this morning? I thought you'd be out rummaging through the forest for scraps of food."

"You're too kind in the mornings, Light. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Maybe." She ran a finger along his cheekbone, tracing his hairline with slight fixation. "Mustadio always said I needed to lighten up in the mornings, but he was never awake until the afternoon at times, so how would he know?" A sigh escaped her lips, and she tugged at one of Balthier's earrings. "And don't avoid my question; it bothers me when you do that. Why are you in here?"

Balthier's face paled and he sent a sidelong glance toward the crickets chirping and frogs croaking outside. "I, er...I was watching you sleep."

Before Lightning could punch him, Ramza pulled the tent flap open and peered inside, expression blank when he caught sight of the two on the bed mat. His cheeks flushed and he vanished behind the flap, though his shadow remained evident outside. "Lady Claire, the rest of us are ready to leave," he said nervously, "but if you're not ready yet, we can wait!"

She shoved Balthier off of her and shook out her hair. "Just give me a few minutes," she called, punching Balthier in the shoulder. He gave her a mock pout, though amusement danced in his eyes. "Go on ahead, if you must. Just watch out for snakes in Midlight's Deep, all right?"

"Snakes?" Balthier asked, situating himself on Agrias' bed mat and watching Lightning dig in her pack.

"Even though he's on a tight leash, Lindzei likes to trick those who enter Midlight's Deep. Him and Ragnarok would make a fine team against bounty hunters if they weren't at each others throats all the time."

"Your beastie has quite a few enemies..."

She laughed, tossing the pack over her shoulder and picking up her gunblade. "Only a few. They all misunderstand his intentions, really. He never wanted to hurt anyone but the gods when we met years ago, and scaring the wits out of bounty hunters is his way of having fun. And," she bit her lip, looking to the side, "he's only trying to cheer me up by doing that. He knows how much I..." want them all to die for what they did.

"You, what?"

Balthier was giving her that look again, the one that made her knees weak and false-breath stop. He knew she was hiding something, but she couldn't tell him the truth. She wouldn't admit that she was afraid.

"It's nothing; no use living in the past, right?"

She stepped out of the tent in a hurry, escaping that questioning and accusing glare.

Midlight's Deep had changed. Every twist and turn was lined with vines, plagued by mossfungus that would kill a hume if inhaled too much. Lightning instructed the others to cast Shell on themselves to avoid the toxic fumes, and Balthier made a show of throwing a glob of fungus at Ramza's face. He complained that walking with a sword lodged between his ribs wasn't the most comfortable of things, but she sharply told him that he deserved it.

Cidolfus was disappointed that Yiazmat had been killed years before by an unknown creature, though he happily collected a few scales from the corpse to sell to traders (he was after some rare sword again). As they ventured further and further, deeper and deeper into the cavern's depths, Lightning's anxiousness was growing stronger. Balthier, too, looked like he'd seen a ghost (although, knowing him, he had seen one).

"If you don't stop tearing at your cuffs," Lightning hissed through the corner of her mouth, "I'll throw some mossfungus at you."

Balthier stared at her like a frightened chocobo. "I wasn't aware that I..." He shook his head, shuddering slightly. "Apologies. This place...doesn't settle well with me."

"Why?"

"It seems that your beastie has a bone to pick with me."

Lightning shot him a fierce glare. "Stop calling him my beastie. That's worse than the time Snow kept calling me Ragnarok's prey."

The word prey seemed to set Balthier on edge; his brows furrowed, sharp teeth showed through snarling lips and his fingers were clenched into fists, whitening his knuckles. Lightning eyed him suspiciously, tilting her head in a concerned manner.

"Something the matter?"

"You are not his prey," he hissed inhumanely. "You are not his to claim. You are min—" He stopped abruptly, fingers twitching as if inclined to scratch his own ears off. "The sooner we leave, the better."

"If you're afraid of Ragnarok, you could just say so." A smile pinched her lips. "You're not the only one, anyway. Vaan used to tell me how much my Balthier would threaten to tear his arms off. The poor kid couldn't look him in the eyes after that."

A warm presence was suddenly at her side, a hand ghosting across her cheek. Lightning froze, earning bewildered gazes from the rest of her companions; though Cid was on the verge of laughing. Balthier, on the other hand, appeared to be absolutely annoyed. She didn't understand why until he spat out one name:

"Ffamran—"

And then he was there, standing beside her with that lively, sarcastic smirk. He was still translucent, like all ghosts were, but he was more solid than the last time she saw him. How long ago had it been? Long before Mustadio died, yes—it had been when she, in desperation, begged Balthier to kill her.

Lightning felt like she was back on Cocoon and was meeting him for the first time. But her heart was not beating in a rushed way, nor were her cheeks turning pink from longing. Ffamran touched her cheek again, bringing her closer until their lips met. She could feel him this time, holding her close as if to never want to let her go—he was here, with her, there was no denying it. She'd almost forgotten altogether that they weren't alone.

"It's you," Lightning murmured when she slowly moved away. "You've been with me the whole time..."

"The magicks Etro's put on you have hindered my chances of talking with you," Ffamran said. "Trust me: I would have rather met with you on better conditions. Midlight's Deep is Ragnarok's domain, and Etro's control does not reach here, lest she come to this realm herself."

"I'm surprised you're alone here. I thought—given the circumstances—you would have had Snow or someone else here. You're still all ghosts, right?"

Ffamran cast his eyes downward, then looked to Balthier, who stood near the cavern's wall with a disgruntled and distasteful look on his face. "I have not moved on, yes. But I am not tied to this world, either. My soul, because he is most like me, is tied to his. This is Ultima's doing."

"Ultima?" Balthier barked, stepping forward. "That she-witch—"

"Careful with that mouth of yours, Madness," Ffamran warned boredly. "You've not seen the High Seraph's strength. She, like most gods, isn't too keen on your presence here. For once I agree."

"Going to kill me, weak hume? Try, if you dare." Balthier's expression warped into that of a monster, silver eyes glimmering in the darkness. "You're just a soul, wandering until time's end. Why don't you run back to that fool? He'll save you, won't he?" A gruesome, fiendish laugh erupted from his throat. "Yet he is not here; gone away, like all the good souls of this realm!"

Lightning stepped between them, keeping a hand firmly on Ffamran's chest, holding him back. "What's gotten into you? You—you promised to keep that thing under control!"

"Thing?" Balthier whirled toward her, hands twisting for her throat. "I am no thing, you old woman. Mad I am, yes, but who is to say that you, dearest Lightning, are not mad as well?" He grabbed her hands with a tight grip, and Lightning squirmed as she watched her own fingers wither and shrink into old, shriveled skin and bone. "No god holds you—but I! I, mad they call me, have claimed your soul!"

"I am not yours, so let me go!" She struggled against it, but the Madness—was it truly the Madness?—held her close, stroking her hair with a trembling hand and resting its chin atop her head. It felt so wrong; this was not what she wanted. This was not Balthier nor Ffamran.

Ffamran was quick to pull her away, drawing a translucent fomalhaut and aiming it toward the Madness' untamed appearance. "Go and crawl back into the hole you came from, Madness," he snapped.

"Why don't you crawl on your hands and knees, little ghost, and scamper through that Door? They're all waiting for you!"

It took longer than expected for Lightning to realize she was no longer in Midlight's Deep, protected by the Mist and vines; sideways buildings, a sky that resembled shimmering waves of stained red water, and a creature so devilish and full of trickery. This was the void.

And as the Madness launched itself at Ffamran, Lightning found her voice and screamed.

"Stop!" Lightning shot up from the ground, clutching the scar on her shoulder and looking about the eyes staring at her. She paid no attention to Agrias' concerned stare, nor Ramza's alarmed appearance. Cidolfus was the closest to her, an arm wrapped around her shoulders to keep her steady, while Balthier—he was hume now, yes?—couldn't bear to look her in the eyes.

"I had no idea the undead could be affected by mossfungus," Agrias said in disbelief.

"We can't, not usually," Lightning answered, out of breath. "So it was all just a dream, right? Just...a dream."

Balthier ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath in vieran. He looked toward his left, as if waiting for permission to speak from someone who was no longer there. Ramza saw this and scowled.

"Well, pirate? Should we expect to see you faint because of the toxic fumes?"

Lightning eagerly awaited to hear him speak, but Balthier looked to be much too frightened to even explain what happened. But she could see it in his eyes: he was losing control over the Madness.

"Light, you know I would—I would never let it hurt you," he said uneasily. "But it wanted to cheer you up—don't you understand? I did not think...it would..."

She didn't give him the chance to finish. "Look, let's keep going. This place is giving me the creeps."

As Ramza led the way down the path, Lightning pulled Balthier aside and waited until Agrias was out of ear-shot to speak. "The Madness," she whispered, "it didn't...eat his soul, did it?"

He glanced toward the air in front of them, sighing gently with relief. "No, he's still there. Though the Madness was right: he should move on..."

They left it at that; there were more pressing matters to attend to. Lightning kept a close eye on him, nonetheless, for no one knew when that creature would strike again and attempt to steal someone's soul. She tried to sway her mind to other things, such as listening to Cidolfus lecture Ramza or the hissing of snakes tangled within the depths of the cavern. There was so much to focus on, but nothing could satisfy her worry. The Madness was holding onto her, somehow, with its clawed paws and slimy teeth.

Her soul belonged to it.

At last she could feel the warm breath of Mist seeping through the ground, brushing her legs and arms, and leading her closer to the Serpent Bearer. Soon they were facing a series of cliffs and waterfalls, magick energy leaking from each drop of water falling against the rocks. The roses peered through the pale grasses like excited hume children, waving blissfully in the docile wind, and the clouds drifting above guarded the imaginary sky. This was her dream realm.

"Ragnarok?" Lightning called, standing at the front of the group. Balthier made a whining noise from behind her, fidgeting with his cuffs again. "If you're off chasing down bounty hunters again—"

"You enjoy ruining my fun, don't you, Claire?"

Ragnarok materialized into view, sitting crosslegged in one of the mangled and bare trees. A snake was slithering down from one of the branches, hissing pleasantly at their visitors in greeting. Lightning smiled.

"Nice to see Lindzei's not slinking around Ivalice like the miry snake he is," she said.

"He's not the best of pets, I must admit," Ragnarok replied with a sigh, stroking the snake's coils with a single finger. "He occasionally brings in rats and other vile creatures in an attempt to poison me. Really, Lindzei, you ought to try better than that; I know what you're capable of."

Lindzei turned his head from the god, curling around Ragnarok's neck. Ragnarok looked back toward Lightning, smiling in partial amusement when he spotted the rest of the humes standing behind her with confused expressions. Yet when he saw Balthier, he scowled and hopped down from the tree, disturbing Lindzei's nap and earning a spitting hiss in response.

"I should have expected this," Ragnarok snarled. "I thought you a good man, once before, but now you have sunken so low to align with a creature so weak-minded, so easily tempted with promises of the blood and souls of pitiful humes..."

"I could say the same to you," Balthier said shortly. "That little serpent you call pet has done worse things than I. Need I remind you of the murder he commited, damning this fine creature you so dearly cherish?" He kept a hand on Lightning's shoulder, fingers tracing the scar beneath her clothes. "It's his fault she is this way, wouldn't you agree?"

"Stop messing with my dreams," Lightning murmured lowly. "Let me wake up, let me—"

Ragnarok shook his head. "This is no dream, Claire. But I won't let this fiend hurt you anymore." He scowled, crimson eyes darting toward Balthier. "Unhand her."

Lightning parted from Balthier, though for a brief time she almost wished she hadn't. Unlike the touch of humes and godly beings, his hands did not burn her in any way. His touch was pleasing. Ragnarok turned his attention elsewhere for a moment, eying the three humes.

"You've come for the auracite." At this, an emerald Stone glittered in his hands. "There is no doubt in my mind that you will defeat the High Seraph, but know this: no good comes from desiring assistance from gods. We, after all, can only curse the living."

Ramza narrowed his eyes, staring at the Stone. "You're the Serpent Bearer. The Lucavi that should have never existed."

"You make it sound like a terrible thing." He turned toward Lightning, his gaze softening. "I would have you take this Stone as you did before, though this time...Do not make me harm you." When he touched her hand, kissing it gently, Lightning smiled faintly. How often he reminded her of Ffamran. "I would rather fight the High Seraph herself, not you as well. You've kept your planned freedom a secret for far too long, Claire."

"You should know why I have to keep it secret, then," she warned.

"And I will do my best to prevent it, for he," Ragnarok's eyes flashed in Balthier's direction, "won't be there to protect you."

"What makes you think I need protecting?"

"Over the years, Claire, you've developed a taste for the outworldly. Be mindful around those you call your allies, especially those who might—"

"Really, Ragnarok. She can manage on her own just fine."

Lindzei slithered from Ragnarok's neck and disappeared beneath the roses, appearing again with a wisp of wind in hume-like form. His eyes were red, though not as gentle as Ragnarok's; he wore a thick cloak made of rich gray material; and his hands were bound by magick. Agrias drew her sword, jumping slightly at the god's appearance. He merely waved his cuffed hands toward her and faced Ragnarok.

"You've gotten bitter in your old age, Ragnarok. It's no wonder Etro denies you passage to other worlds; you're likely to wreak havoc in a fit of madness, wouldn't you agree?" Lindzei asked, pointed teeth peeking through pale lips.

"How many gods live here?" Agrias asked Lightning uneasily. "You have made strange acquaintances, Lady Claire."

The squire laughed lightly, though Balthier was less than amused. "Just hand over the Stone, and we'll be on our way," he said. "We've more important matters than dealing with chained gods."

"So soon? At least stay for a game of cards, would you?"

Balthier looked conflicted for a moment, torn better thoughts, and Lightning moved forward, taking the Stone from Ragnarok. The divine god faded within the Stone, frowning mournfully, while Lindzei disappeared with a sharp laugh. Once the two gods were gone, Cidolfus broke the long silence.

"A card game would be a fair break; you're all much too tense these days."

They set camp around nightfall. The moon was trapped and encased by clouds, allowing Balthier to roam the camp without worry. While Ramza and Cidolfus pitched the last tent, she and Agrias were deep in conversation about tomorrow's task when Ragnarok—always nosy—chimed his opinion.

'Why not forget about hunting Lucavi for once? Better yet: forget them altogether. You seek an end to your immortality, Claire, but they cannot give it to you. This is worse than the time you begged for death from that mad man.'

"It's impolite to eavesdrop," Lightning told the Stone, pulling it from her pack.

'I only wish to see you happy. That boy—was his name Mustadio? He always knew how to make you happy.'

Her still heart stung. "Mustadio is no longer here, Ragnarok. I thought you knew that."

'Yes, why else do you think I'm so persistent about killing bounty hunters?'

She slid the Stone back into its rightful place, turning her eyes toward Balthier as he tried starting a fire. Every time he tried lighting a flame it would burn out, the touch of his cold skin overpowering the weak source of heat. He gave up after a while, stubbornly sitting across the two women and scowling. But he did not look at them; his eyes were glued to the Stone in Lightning's pack.

"Mind if I had a look at that?" he asked. "I have yet to tell that beastie my thoughts regarding his apparent delivery business."

"You can hear him?"

"Well I did once play host to his needs. Is it that much of a surprise?"

'Allow him to hold my Stone with his bloody hands, and I won't forgive you, Claire.'

Lightning shook her head. "I'd rather not take any chances, Balthier. I'm sorry. And, from what it sounds like, you're not on the best of terms with Ragnarok. I think he's still upset over what you did."

After Ramza rejoined their group and easily lit the fire, Balthier left in a hurry, claiming he heard a wild fiend out in the forest. Lightning watched him leave with slight guilt; he seemed worried about something, but she chose not to ask. She was afraid that the Madness would try stealing her soul again.

It was nearly midnight when they heard it: a cry so broken and lost, maddened and desperate. Cidolfus thought it was a young Bandersnatch pining for its mother, though Lightning thought differently. She pushed her fear away and left the camp, traveling down the road and through the forest until she found what she was looking for. A strong whiff of blood coasted the air, making her nose twitch in disgust.

"Why have you made this my lot in life? What have I done? I only helped you, and this was how I was rewarded?"

Lightning stepped forward, keeping calm when she spotted Balthier pacing madly about the road, sandals leaving behind foot prints of red. "Balthier?" she called, and he spun around, looking at her wildly. He looked like a caged animal waiting to be set free. "I thought I heard you," she continued. "We could hear you screaming from the camp, but Ramza and the others thought it was a fiend. Is something wrong?"

"I ate two human souls!" he bellowed frantically, gesturing to the misshapen puddles of blood at his feet. "The Madness, it ate their souls!"

She held him by the shoulders, leaning close to his ear. "Be quiet. If you keep shouting, then the others will come looking for us." After helping him sit, he continued his worried rant, words running from his lips in a rushed tone.

"Their souls, I have damned them to nothing. At least, I thought, even if they no longer walked the mortal plain, they could find some happiness in the afterlife. But the Madness, idiot creature, it ate them as a dessert! It doesn't even need them!"

"But what if the afterlife is full of suffering? Did you save them, then?" She wasn't sure how to comfort him; any time Ffamran broke down, she merely sat there and waited for him to calm down. But this was not Ffamran, this was Balthier. She was all he had left.

"I don't know..." he moaned, leaning against her. "I don't like living like this, Light. You probably think that I am just a monster, enjoying the pleasure of the hunt, but the truth is rather to the contrary. It is the only way I can survive and be sane, Lightning. You know what happens if I don't."

He touched her shoulder, a brushing motion, where the scar branded her skin. Lightning closed her eyes. "I know." She ran her hand through his hair, earning a low and light purr in response. She thought nothing of it though, despite how odd it was. Of all the monsters she'd met in her life, Balthier was the one that confused her the most.

"Light?" he asked, sitting up slightly. "Ragnarok mentioned something in Midlight's Deep; he said that you were trying to do something about your immortality, and you rather quickly shushed him. Would you be of the inclination to share your thoughts?"

"Ragnarok has a big mouth and can't keep it shut. He enjoys the sound of his own voice, don't worry about it."

"You're hiding something and I don't like it. If you recall, you were trying to hide the fact that you wanted me to kill you seventy years ago, and now look where it has gotten us."

That was a topic she wished to avoid. Lightning shifted her shoulders, glancing to the side. "You're covered in blood."

"So I am." He was looking at something in his palm, but Lightning was too wary to even see what.

"You should go clean yourself up. You're a mess, and you look a little..."

"Gorged? Yes. I don't know when I'll get to eat next… and I am of the impression that if I attempted to have one of our dear party members for dinner I would find myself in a position of utmost hostility. I'm certain I'll look better in an hour or so."

"I sure hope so."

She led him down the hill at the other end of the road, where she could hear the trickling of a small creek just below. Once they were close enough, she pushed him into the water, grinning at his yelp of surprise, then bent down at the waterside and ran her fingers through the diminutive waves. Her reflection stared back at her, a shadow in the water, though she thought it was smiling.

"Don't think you've escaped my questions, Light," Balthier said with a scowl as he pulled off his shirt. She looked up and flicked her fingers, shooting water drops at his unimpressed glare.

"Good luck in getting answers, and don't go to Ragnarok; I won't give him to you. It's for your own safety, as well as the party's."

She said nothing more, allowing silence to claim her lips.

In her dreams, someone always cried. Usually it was Mustadio, crying over the death of his father nearly thirty years before. True, him and Lightning had not been in that world at the time, but Mustadio knew his father had passed on, an old man dying in his sleep. There were others who would show up in her dreams as well, though Lightning refused to completely acknowledge them, for they were not people she knew well enough to pity and their tears were quite loud. Snow often showed up, claiming that he couldn't find someone anywhere. She tried telling him the truth, but he was determined to find that ghostly sky pirate all on his own. He would be sobbing, of course; spending over fifteen hundred years without his closest companion proved too much for the self acclaimed hero.

But tonight, someone new was crying over the grave in the tangled forest. Someone that Lightning did not expect to see.

"Serah?"

The Yarhi-girl was crouched over the grave, hiccuping mildly and rubbing the tears from her eyes. Her single side-ponytail spilled over her shoulder like a waterfall of pink waves, and her blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight. Lightning stood over her, holding and fiddling with her rose bracelet.

"This is Mustadio's grave," she whispered tenderly. "I didn't think you knew of him, Serah."

"It's so sad," Serah choked between sniffles. "Because this man died, you've given up on life. Why, Claire? Was he that important to you? There are so many here who don't want you to go."

"I gave up on life the day I died. I have not lived since."

Serah shook her head, still furiously brushing the tears away. "But he's still here, isn't he?"

"What?"

"The undead, cursed man. He's the one you love."

Lightning narrowed her eyes. "I don't understand."

"You never understand, Claire. You can't love the living—you only love the dead."

Suddenly Serah melted into puddles of blood oozing into a ditch, fading into the kisses of Mist brushing Lightning's cheek. No, wait—that was not the Mist. It, it was—

—a paw?

Lightning sprung from the Sleep spell and flung the furry thing on her chest across the tent, then groped the floor for her gunblade. Agrias was sound asleep in her bed mat, unaware that a creature was whimpering in the corner of the tent, its scaled tail between its legs. Lightning moved from her bed mat and inched closer and closer to the creature, lips closed tightly.

"I was only trying to wake you," the thing sniveled. "But you are so cruel to me—so cruel, cruel, cruel..."

Then the Madness turned, and Lightning raised her gunblade and fired.