I am curious to know if anyone has noticed my naming process here. For those who don't know, or thought they saw it, Hugin and Munin were the names of the twin ravens belonging to Odin in Norse mythology, who fly over the world bringing him information. I derived Judge Magister Freyk's name from the name of Odin's wolf, Freki (old English, Frec), meaning desirous, greedy, and gluttonous. It turns out, the names kinda fit.
Thanks to ElTangoDeRoxanne for reviewing—I'm sure I'll see emeraldonyxdragon soon!
"Remind me why we are doing this?" Balthier asked wryly, tightening his grip on a makeshift staff.
"It was your idea." John's voice was as tight as the pirate's white knuckled grip on his staff.
Balthier looked up at him from where they crouched behind a rock, watching the one "fouler than all of them put together" patrol around a hanging cage. They could make out a human inside, white faced and ogling with terror.
"John, if I'd known he was talking about Zalera the Death Seraph, I would not have thought to put the tracker here," he complained, and glanced behind them. "There's no way out— the way we came through is sealed by a magick barrier of some sort."
"I thought you said there was no Mist!" John exploded.
"I am not completely infallible," Balthier returned evenly, glaring at the tracking device in John's hand leaking clear, faintly glowing liquid.
"Then let's just stick it to the damn thing and get out of here!" At that moment, the rock they sheltered behind exploded, and Zalera smiled at them with his eternal grin.
"Peek-a-boo." The Esper said without moving its' jaw. Balthier grabbed John and pulled him out of the way before he could be flattened by Zalera's hand, which came whistling out of the darkness to crush them.
"Evening, Zalera." The sky pirate said with a charming smile. "Haven't seen you since Basch died."
The Esper cackled, a noise like wind blowing through a cave, and summoned Dead Bones to his side. John quickly sank his dagger, still black with Balthier's blood, between the eyes of the closest skeleton to him. It screeched, bony fingers raking at him, but a solid punch shattered its skull. The skeleton collapsed into a heap, and did not get up. Balthier used his staff to separate a zombie's torso from its legs, crushing its' head under his foot. The next thing John knew, the sky pirate's hands were filled with Cactaur needles, which he flung with great accuracy at Zalera. Most of the needles rattled off the Esper's cloak and wing, but several of them embedded themselves in the Shamaness grafted to his body. She screamed, a horrifying, blood curdling wail, and at the same time, Balthier fell to his knees, covering his ears and crying out in anguish.
When the noise faded, he stumbled to his feet unsteadily. "Balthier!" John yelled, running toward him, but he stopped when the sky pirate raised his head.
His eyes were white. They were not their normally dancing golden honey brown, or even their unearthly, inhuman, but equally as familiar shining silver. They were white as bone or a funeral veil. John took a step back. "Are you okay?" He was unprepared when Balthier bared his teeth and lunged at him with astonishing speed. His soldier's instinct kicked in, and he ducked, falling on his back and bringing both his feet up, pushing the pirate over his head and somewhere behind him. "What's wrong with you, man?" he shouted, but Balthier got up again, his only reply a nasty growl and a likewise nasty smile, fangs glittering in the light.
"He's been possessed by the Death Seraph." A new voice called out to him, his accent almost identical to Balthier's. John glanced toward the cage in the center of the room, keeping Balthier in his peripheral vision.
"How?"
"I don't know, that's just my guess." The man shook his head, a few strands of grimy, raven black hair falling across his face. He brushed them aside with a dirty hand.
"Who are you?" John backed toward the cage, dodging another lunge from Balthier. One of the possessed pirate's fingers, curled into a blunt claw, nicked his face, drawing blood. The pirate licked it off his fingers, his white eyes glowing with hungry light.
"I'm… Leon." The man paused for a minute. "If you free me, I can help you fight."
"I'll see what I can do." John answered, not about to pass up any help in a fight against a Death God and a possessed, vampire pirate. He continued to back up, and Balthier continued his advance, Zalera trailing in his wake. When he was backed against the cage, Balthier sprang. At the last possible moment, John dove out of the way, and the pirate crashed into the hanging cage, snapping the bars and skewering himself on the broken ends. Leon scrambled through the gap while Balthier hung limply from the remains of the cage in a death trance before stirring, his eyelids fluttering.
"You can't take on your possessed friend the way he is— the only way to free him and get out of here is to kill Zalera. I'll distract your friend. You go after the Esper!" Leon commanded. John nodded, charging the Death Seraph. He picked up the staff Balthier had been using as he ran, using it first as a pole to vault into the air, then jamming it between Zalera's ribs. He hung there for dear life while the Esper buffeted him with his wing. The Shamaness was screaming all the while.
Leon circled Balthier, who turned his attention from John to his new opponent. "Right then, come on!" Leon grinned, and Balthier snarled. When the pirate approached, Leon cast Holy. Balthier gave another inhuman scream as he was swallowed in Holy light, his skin blistering and burning, but he stretched fingers of bone toward Leon, magick forcing him to move though he should have been unconscious. When the light dissipated, the young man spotted the glitter in Balthier's chest through a rip in his clothing.
"Right. That's coming out now." He plunged his hand through the pirate's chest, bones made brittle by Holy snapping like burned wood, closing his fingers about the medallion. Then he pulled. Balthier shuddered and jerked, clutching Leon's hand in an attempt to stop the medallion's removal, but he had been greatly weakened by the remnants of the serum and the spell still running in his veins. With a final tug, Leon ripped the medallion free, and Balthier collapsed to the ground, still.
John heaved himself up on the staff, muscles groaning in protest, and straddled it, eye to eye with the enraged Esper. At one point, the Shamaness even reached out and wrapped her arm about his neck. He stabbed her, and she cried out again, black blood pouring from the wound, and she relinquished her grip to nurse her hurts. John stabbed the Shamaness again— this time Zalera howled in pain, writhing, and the soldier was almost flung from his precarious perch. He clung there like a rodeo rider, narrowly avoiding getting gored on the end of Zalera's horns. Raising his arm again, he plunged the dagger into the Shamaness's chest.
She moaned quietly, her head rolling back, and Zalera sighed. His form began to waver, rapidly becoming insubstantial, until finally, he vanished into the Mist. John fell back to the floor, and at the same time, there was a searing pain in his right arm. He rolled down his sleeve, breathing through clenched teeth, and beheld the brand printed on his arm.
"Nice job!" Leon applauded. "Not many people have taken down Espers before. There's only thirteen of them, you know."
"Thanks. How's Balthier?" John asked. Leon averted his eyes.
"Not too well…" He stepped to the side and showed John the corpse.
A frail, old man lie in a pool of black blood, an ugly, bloody hole in his chest. His hands were like bony claws, gnarled and twisted, and his hair was white and silver, just the faintest hint of bronze shining in the dim light. "What did you do?" John gasped, falling to his knees in the sea of blood and pulling the ancient corpse to him. Its eyes were slightly open, but there was no light in those cloudy, rheumy eyes. It almost did not look like Balthier, with sunken, sagging cheeks and grey-white skin, but John recognized the point of his nose, the jut of his chin.
"I dealt with him as I deal with any other zombie. The only way to kill them is to pull their hearts out." Leon said. "I'm sorry, but Zalera turned him. It was the only way. I didn't think this would happen, though."
"I suspected that Balthier has been dead a long time, or kept from aging somehow… Zalera took possession of his soul, that or pushed it out of his body. Probably turned him back to how he should be when you took out that magical coin. Damn." John speculated, closing the old man's eyes.
The body began to smoke, the skin blackening and burning, glowing with magickal embers. Even the bones began to burn after a moment, but the flames did not hurt John, who remained there until the last of the ashes flowed away on the wind. Only a pile of clothes and jewelry lie in his lap.
"Damn!" he howled. Leon held the coin out, and John snatched it.
"I suppose you could hold onto it, as a memento…"
"Oh… that was rude, tearing my heart out like that…" Balthier's voice moaned through the room. John gave a cry of horror as black and red flesh began to encrust the medallion, dropping it in disgust. The flesh continued to grow, encircling the medallion and pulling it inside until only a tiny sliver was visible. After a while, bones began to emerge from the pulsating mass, first an arm, then a skull with fanged teeth. With great effort, the jumbled mess of bone and muscle pulled itself to its feet. Then the muscle began to boil, becoming skin, creating hair, and with a horrible squelch, eventually eyes formed, too. Warm, brown eyes. Within moments, Balthier the sky pirate stood before them, in all his youthful glory. There was not even a line on his face to show that he had been a wrinkled, ancient corpse only moments before. He swiftly dodged behind a rock, his face burning red.
"Er… John? Could you bring my clothes over here? And don't forget my piercings." John chuckled at the pirate's state of nakedness before complying and bringing over the said articles. After a few moments, Balthier stepped back out from behind the rock, fully clothed and fully regenerated. "I daresay that was the most unpleasant feeling in my life," he said. "I'll be guarding my heart more closely from now on."
"Are you sure you're okay?" John asked cautiously, searching for any hint of white in his eyes. Balthier nodded.
"I can hardly remember what happened, though. I just remember that fellow pulling my heart out. What happened, anyway? Who's that?" his eyes darted toward Leon.
"You were possessed by Zalera— probably because you're an undead. I pulled your heart out because I thought you were turned. There's no saving the turned. I'm Leon, by the way." Leon held his hand out, and Balthier shook it, eyeing him suspiciously. John shook his head.
"I've only partially forgiven him for killing you." He said, and Balthier cocked his head.
"Well, I'll give you another reason to not fully forgive him. This is no Leon. This is Munin Leonidas Solidor, twin brother to the Emperor and joint Emperor of Archades. What brings you down here, hmm?" the pirate grinned viciously.
"I apologize." Munin bowed his head, pawing his hair out of his eyes again. "My father told me you were very clever. It is a pleasure to meet you, Balthier Bunansa. I was thrown in here by Hugin, for reasons unknown, but for the fact that my brother has gone mad!"
Balthier narrowed his eyes. "Mad, you say?"
"Yes—"
"Quiet!" John hissed at that moment. They fell silent, straining their ears. Eventually, they heard the clanking footsteps of soldiers battling their way down the hall. "Let's get out of here." He dropped the tracking device on the ground. "Quickly, into the tunnel!"
They snuck out of the room toward the tiny mouth of a sewage pipe, and after much effort, forced their way into sewer beyond. Munin made a face as they plunged into six feet of murky brown water. Needless to say, the smell was atrocious.
"My shirt is ruined." Balthier groaned.
"Your shirt was already ruined since we left Nabudis." John reprimanded him. "Jules said to follow the current and we would end up in the Sochen Cave Palace."
They swam for a while, occasionally taking rests by clinging to the walls of the tunnel. "Why were you in prison?" Munin asked eventually.
"Balthier was accused of killing the Emperor, Larsa, and arrested. Apparently by decree of your brother." John replied. Munin creased his eyebrows.
"Hugin really has gone mad…" he whispered. "I do not believe you killed our father, Balthier."
"Good to know." Balthier sounded distracted, his eyes unfocused. John snapped his fingers in front of the undead pirate's face.
"What's on your mind?" he asked.
"Bahamut. Why is it rising again?" Balthier asked no one in particular.
"What's Bahamut?"
"Bahamut was an air fortress built by my mad uncle, Vayne, and used to assault Rabanastre seventy-five years ago during the Nethicite War. It was there Balthier and Fran gained their fame in the history books of Ivalice as heroes, who "sacrificed" their lives to steer the fortress away from the city and crash it outside of Rabanastre, instead of on it like Vayne planned." Munin explained.
"The control systems should have been dashed to pieces during the crash." Balthier said, shaking his head.
"Maybe the Terminators fixed it?" John tried to be helpful.
"Maybe." Balthier replied quietly.
"Terminators?" Munin asked.
"Balthier was summoned to my world on accident when Skynet, who builds the machines, experimented with a time device meant to send the things we call Terminators to a time in my childhood, to kill me before I could lead the humans to resist their tyrannical rule of Earth. The result was that they thought they had found Earth, and sent a large regiment of Terminators here. We cut down all of them but ten at the source, and three of them, mutated by the Mist, went into Archades and killed your father. We killed two others in Nabudis. Two were destroyed by Ivalice's harsh environment." John said.
"It sounds like the last of them went onto Bahamut." Balthier added, swimming a few more strokes through the filthy water, carefully keeping his mouth and nose out of the noxious mix of human refuse.
"Then, I have some interesting news for you." Munin said. "Hugin went to Rabanastre with Judge Magister Freyk for a conference with Lady Ishtar B'Nargin Dalmasca. When he came back, he had changed. He threw me into prison, and Judge Freyk became his most trusted aide."
"Curious…" Balthier whispered. "Most curious indeed…"
"Do you hear that?" Munin asked.
"Hear what?" Balthier and John asked at the same time.
"That roaring noise…" the ex-emperor clarified. Balthier squinted into the darkness.
"It sounds… it sounds like a waterfall!" he cried, and the next moment, they were swept out of the drainpipe and into a massive waterfall pouring into the Sochen Cave Palace. There was a wet crunch as they smacked into a narrow stone walkway under the pounding water, and Munin was the first to drag himself free of the deluge. His cloth and leather finery was ruined beyond repair. Balthier's white shirt was now a disgusting shade of brown, and he removed it as soon as he was clear of the sewage water pouring out of the pipe. John emerged last, shaking his head like a wet dog.
"Let's get out into Tchita. We can take a Gate Crystal into Rabanastre and try to get into contact with Fran and the others there." John said.
"I don't want to get close to Rabanastre after what happened to Hugin; not yet, anyways." Munin said. "Besides, Balthier is wanted by the Empire for high treason. Dalmasca would turn him in to maintain good relations with Archadia."
"Where else, then?" John argued.
"Balfonheim." Balthier said. "The most lawless city in Ivalice. Murderers, thieves, pirates, assassins, you'll find them all hiding down in Balfonheim."
"Of course, it also helps that you're the Pirate King, and you can declare war on the empire if you so choose." Munin's black eyes twinkled. Balthier nodded agreeably.
"Aye, that I could, but with a weirded Hugin and a savage Freyk in command of the army, we wouldn't last. No, we'll just go back to the Manse and recuperate. Fran probably returned to Balfonheim as well, waiting for us."
Balthier was right, as it turned out, and Fran had been waiting for them at Balfonheim for three days. By the third morning, she had almost been ready to give up.
"Balthier!" she grabbed him first around the neck, throttling him until his face turned white. "I thought you had been executed along with John," she whispered, eventually pulling him into a hug. She quickly pulled back. "You are a mess. What have you been doing? Swimming through Chocobo droppings?"
"Something very close to that, yes." Balthier replied. "This is Munin Leonidas Solidor. He's joining us on our Terminator hunt. Apparently, Hugin has gone mad."
"You can tell us the tale later. After you shower. We'll burn your clothes in a minute." Fran broke in. John stifled a smile.
After they had bathed, they sat around a fire place, where their clothes were slowly being devoured by the flames.
"So you mean that the Terminators have repaired a machine capable of taking down cities with one blast?" Barnes asked flatly. "You're f—" the fire crackled rather loudly at this point "—ing me."
"Not at all." Munin said, ignoring the outburst.
"Barnes, watch your language, you're in the presence of a King." Blair punched him in the shoulder.
"Two Kings, actually, but never mind." Munin shook his head kindly. Balthier leaned against Fran contentedly, and she ran her finger down the back of his vest. The one he wore today was gold and deep red. Her fingers migrated to the base of his neck, eliciting a deep purr that rose unbidden from his throat, and closing his eyes, he nuzzled her neck, drinking in her burning warmth with his cold skin. Blair laughed from where she sat in Marcus's lap, his arms around her protectively. Barnes looked on somewhat enviously, but said nothing.
"I wish Star were here." Kyle said forlornly. "Man, I miss Star."
"I miss Kate. And Alice." John added.
"Alice?" Marcus cocked his head.
"Kate had a baby."
"Oh."
"So… any idea how to take down Bahamut again?" Kyle asked shyly. Munin glanced at Balthier, who appeared to be fast asleep with his head in Fran's lap, but for the purr that still rumbled ever so faintly in his throat. The man clearly did not intend to do any answering, so Munin took it upon himself to come up with the ideas.
"When Balthier first did it, he had the Bhujerban Air Fleet at his back and Archadia as both their enemies. However, I doubt that Bhujerba would intend to help him again, especially since they are not at war with the Empire. And, if I remember correctly, weren't you two attacking Bhujerban Magicite Transports and smuggling Magicite out of Bhujerba recently?" he asked slyly.
"We made a pretty amount of gil off of that operation, did we not?" Fran nudged her partner's shoulder.
"Mm… seven hundred gil a kilogram for plain magicite," he answered sleepily. Munin gave a polite little cough.
"Ignoring your illicit activities in Bhujerba, you have been accused with regicide in Archadia. Hugin has removed me from the throne, and Freyk commands the army. I hear they mean to retake Dalmsaca. In Rozarria, the house Margrace went extinct in the Sangriento Civil war. And you called Dalmasca's wrath down upon your head during the Aegis Crystal heist."
"A pity." Balthier sat up, stretching.
"You have no allies, Balthier. How do you intend to get close enough to Bahamut without getting blasted by the Nethicite Cannon?" Munin asked. Balthier exchanged a smile with Fran.
"Tell them, darling."
"You didn't think we ruled Balfonheim without having our own army of sorts, did you?" she asked.
Yays!