A/N: Yo. I was so surprised to get more than 5 reviews I was like 'Whaaat. But it's been like a year.' Also, re-read the last chapter a little if you can't figure out what's happening in this one.

Chapter 9

Ovelia… my angel… my hope.

This was a Difficult situation.

Ovelia was my queen. Or, princes now.

I still don't understand that.

I still have problems pushing through the haze around my consciousness. Had I not monk training of the highest sort, this poison would have rendered me half sensed at most.

Look how he presses the knife to her gentle skin! I can't bear it!

It just… isn't right. That's not right, brother!

She's innocent in all of this!

Whatever this is!

And I… I was supposed to be her hero…

What am I doing…

Do something!

Anything!

No. Focus.

I have to keep my head straight. Forget these stray and odd thoughts.

Ovelia.

In the past I was to protect the Royal family at all costs.

That was a very long time ago. Such things as titles mattered little to me now.

Queen, bishop, saint, knight... these titles meant nothing to me, because they proved nothing.

I had met some of the best of men and women, and some of the worst of men and women, and all around their titles seemed to have no relationship to whom was which.

Just as my brother. He was more sworn to protect her highness than I, yet he pushed that blade and I saw a trickle of blood on it.

"Well, brother?!" Dycedarg asked demandingly. "The stone's location!"

Fine, have it!

I don't even know what it is!

No! I couldn't do that!

I was now quickly approaching the dilemma I had posed. Ovelia or the stone.

Were I to trade my life for that of an innocent girl such as her, 'twould be barter, but the stone...

I could not abide the stone's existence. I wasn't heartless towards the princess, but I just could not…

There are still possibilities to strike mine brother down. The swords I had discarded are not too far from me, and there are many more skills at my disposal than swordplay.

Sneaky things. Clever things. Ninja arts. Spells I could mutter beneath my breath.

Even if I assault mine brother, Ovelia may yet survive.

With my luck, I doubt it.

I'm sorry. It's awful.

Teta, again, flashed through my mind.

I'm sorry Teta. I would surrender were it just me, I swear it.

But I couldn't capitulate to my brother's demands for the stone, even if I did not at the moment know its exact location…

It may well be on my person. Or in a place I could easily guess.

Worse, because I didn't know where I had put it, I couldn't say whether any false location I gave would be false indeed, or the truth slipping from the corner of my mind.

"Don't try my patience, brother." Dycedarg insisted. "She can serve me as well dead as alive!"

"That's a bluff." I attempt to argue. "She could easily be the next reigning monarch!"

"Do you think so little of me?" Dycedarg asked in amusement. "Do you think my future prospects were hung on something so loose as the cooperation of a love stricken juvenile girl? Hear a little story of mine, Ramza. The princess of our great country killed by mine brother. A tragedy."

This again. It was nonsense.

"Yes. The little brother I had adored sought that which lay beyond his station. In his greedy lust, befriended the sow in our dungeons. A radical by the moniker Mad Dog."

Brother!

"And I, with soulful reluctance, struck down my own flesh. What do you think about this story?"

"Fanciful." I shot back.

"Oh, very." My brother agreed. "A wonderful fairytale for the masses. But you must understand, brother. A prince represents a promise of strength. A princess represents a promise of purity. The former is more oft given responsibilities, but the later is more adored. You have to use your pieces judiciously. With her death, the entire nation will think of nobility as noble. The line between the peasants and the gentry will be redrawn fresh. And I will be at the head of that movement."

"But you don't believe in it!" I proclaimed in disdain.

"Because I don't believe in it, I don't feel bad for exploiting it." Was Dycedarg's cool response.

I understood what he was aiming for. I could read between the lines. He could do it.

He could be a hero. Not just that, he could be a champion to the noblesse even while he was a hero to the masses.

He would both become a man of the times, and charge the times with violent energy to suit himself.

She really did serve him as well dead or alive.

But I just can't… I just…

"If you kill her," I muttered in warning, "I'll have nothing to stop me from killing you."

My brother smiled a wide, toothy smile. Upon his face I had never seen such an honest smile as that.

Wordlessly, he pulled the blade fully. In a smooth motion, he'd taken my dilemma from me.

No. Ovelia!

What? No, I had to focus. I had to move.

Thoughts flashed through my head in a fraction of a second's hesitation.

Another choice. First aid or defeating the enemy. The sequence of this was important, for in truth it was almost impossible to accomplish both.

Kill Dycedarg first, and then see if I could do something for Ovelia.

Not her, oh please, oh God, I beseech!

A voice. No, not quite. A mere thought.

In fact it was less than a thought, and more. It was an emotion that was ferocious and pure. A child like panic of the highest order.

The poison. It must be the liquid befuddling me.

I love her!

Focus!

I never loved her! She's just Alma's friend, to me. And a queen, I suppose.

I have my priorities! If I rush to the girl's side, I'd die even if I could save her life. Then she'd be alone with my brother and she would be no better off with such a fate!

Though it condemned her to only the slimmest chance of survival, I had to put her aside for twenty, or even thirty seconds. I could kill Dycedarg in thirty, I'm sure! And he had to die! If he could grasp the Lucavi in this state, I don't even know what would happen to Ivalace!

I didn't want to bury Ovelia. I really didn't want to bury any more people!

But if I have to pick between digging one more grave and digging graves for our whole nation, I knew my path!

Teta! I'm sorry! It's for the world!

Ovelia… my silk, my dream, my hope!

These feelings… I don't…

"Ovelia!" I screamed. I awoke.

Everything was senseless. I had been dreaming. I know that for a fact. And words were exchanged. And my dream self… another self… fought and spoke as if he were real. He moved my body. He had otherworldly skills.

It made no sense.

My dreams might somehow be real.

That made no sense either.

But I did not care.

I immediately threw myself to Ovelia's side. In the moment, I saw nothing else. I honestly forgot that my brother, Mad Dog, and Agrias even existed.

I only saw that crimson blood gushing forth.

I had to stop it.

Yet as I scrambled towards Ovelia's body, I felt something pierce my side.

Dagger, sword, bullet, I wasn't too certain.

I still did not care.

I layered skills upon Ovelia.

I did not know these skills, but I executed every form of revitalization possible, in quick succession. Shout, Chakra, and I even started to chant Raise 3.

I spied along the near wall, another of the items from the merchant's wares. A bag of orangely red down.

Yes, phoenix feathers. I know how to apply them to an otherwise fatal neck wound. I don't know how I do, but I do know that I do. I thank my dream self.

On hands and knees still, from treating Ovelia, I tried to crawl towards it. I reached out to the phoenix down as if to grasp at a miracle.

Something pinned me in place. I stared in brief confusion at the protruding knife hilt. My left hand was pinned to the ground.

Only then, I looked up at my glowering elder brother. He was a powerful knight, whatever he said. He put a dagger three inches through my palm and into solid stone floor.

"Well?" My brother asked.

That's right. Dream self was having a conversation with brother.

Dream self was holding his own both with swords and conversation against the brother I looked up to so much. Dream self was amazing. His only flaw was that he didn't understand that Ovelia came first. I could not be the husband or lover she deserved. I, an aspiring knight, already failed to keep an innocent girl from harm. It might be my pessimism talking again, but I had failed a lot.

But I could do as much as put her first, damn it.

No!

Yes!

"I gave the stone to her." I said with no hesitation.

My brother took a half step backwards. "The stone? You gave it to the princess?"

I shook my head, no. My hand and side were still bleeding, but half-dreaming as I was I didn't feel it too well. Ovelia was… not in a very critical state right now. She might not need the phoenix down, after all the skills I had used so far. Right. I… didn't know what I was doing. I wasn't a Hero. I was just 13. I was just doing everything I could in a panic.

Ovelia coughed out my name as she rolled weakly on the floor. I think she'd be ok.

"No? Then you gave it to Alma, after all?" Dycedarg asked pointedly. I don't know where he was getting all these knives. I belatedly realized that I'd been struck earlier in my side, and that it hurt. And my hand that was pinned to the ground hurt as well, as a matter of fact.

"Tell me, Ramza." My brother insisted. "I can easily gut the girl as many times as it takes."

I did hesitate. I looked at Ovelia, then.

She weakly shook her head at me. 'Don't' I believe she whispered.

The stone is everything. It carries enough sinister power…

Damn it, it's not even human. It's also not concerned with human things!

Whatever Dycedarg could do, at least he'd need people to rule!

The Lucavi would be fine ruling over a giant cinder for a planet!

There are priorities! Balances to be made! Evil, committed for Good's sake! A regrettable sacrifice! Don't be naive!

Shut up. Shut up, me! I do have my damn priorities!

Before I thought of justice and war! Before I held a sword!

I was standing between my sister and rabid dogs! I was shielding her from scorn and loneliness! I promised her that I'd always be there for her!

That's what I am! I protect my friends with all at my disposal!

That came first! If I let Ovelia die, I won't even know who I am anymore!

You mustn't!

But I met my brother's eyes. "Not Alma." I admitted. "I gave it to Mother."

My brother's expression snapped into a sharp frown. "Your mother's dead… oh." He gasped. "I see. I can believe that. You gave it… to her. That is a place unlikely to be uncovered."

Yes, I hid it inside mother's urn. Amongst her ashes.

"Ovelia." I insisted.

"Yes." My brother nodded. "I'll allow her to live, although you'll still have to die. I keep my word on these kinds of things, you know. As long as she is obedient, she can live. I promise that." He spoke these words as if they were his last farewell to me, his brother, and he grasped the first sword available to him… one of the two my dream self had discarded… and he placed it before my face. The proclamation was clear.

I could understand that, but I paled.

Ovelia was somewhat like Alma.

Both knew what it was like to be obedient.

Neither let that get in their way overmuch.

Even now, although we were both lying on the stone floor in various states of debilitation, I could see her face scrunch up in fury and pain.

She was far from an obedient mood.

She'd take death rather than heed my brother's words right now.

So I did the first thing that entered my mind. I turned my head slightly and bit down on the tip of that blade.

"What?!" My brother's expression twisted into a mixture of surprise and pure disdain.

Having bought this little time, I brought my one unpinned hand around to the blade and grasped it recklessly.

I had no leverage, on my hands and knees as I was. I'm sure my brother thought I was being needlessly desperate to cling to life.

But I was not clinging to life. I was fighting my best. Through my teeth that were still clenched around the sword edge I declared it:

"Life… is… short..."

My brother is no fool. He stepped back immediately. He yanked away his sword as if I were a tiger.

"That's not possible!" He declared shakily. "You were gone only one month!"

Dycedarg's eyes flickered downwards, to Ovelia's near form.

But I had grasped the dagger pinning one hand with the other. I yanked it free of the stone. I was free. I was armed. I threw the dagger with precision and speed as I made my home between my brother and Ovelia, in a crouch.

Yes, I had done it. This was where I belonged.

I… I had to keep certain things safe. Ovelia was more than a girl to me. She was my fond hope. More than that, she was a dear friend.

If I had to choose between a true friend and a liar blood-relation…

Well, I'd rather not choose.

But I'd take my friend!

My brother had deflected my thrown blade, and stared at me in a rictus of disbelief. "Art thou mad?" he asked in amazement. "Can you move this much with such injury and affliction of poison? Are you really driven this far? For what, brother? There's nothing for you to hope for!" He yelled at me. "There's no way out! You've no future with a princess, you bastard son! You've no accolades awaiting you if you save a princess either! You've not the pedigree to be the people's hero! A story is all in the telling, brother, and I've all the storytellers as my conspirators! The judges and the lords! Their royal scribes and messengers! You'll be feared and disdained instead, as fratricidal! I wouldn't be surprised if, in killing me, you really had to resort to a life on the run!" Dycedarg proclaimed seriously.

He was being honest. I knew he was right.

Who would believe this tale were I to repeat it?

With my only witnesses being a radicalist prisoner, a juvenile princess that had run away, and a young knight foolish enough to help that princess run away?

"You'll have no woman to keep you warm then, Ramza. In the dead of winter, with no land or money, what will you do?" Dycedarg asked me.

He's attempting to sap your spirit. He understands that willpower alone is what lets you stand now.

He's an intelligent fighter, whatever else can be said about him.

"My justice." I proclaimed, pulling free the last armerment in reach. The dagger in my side came loose and more blood from that wound began to slide down my side.

I could use Chakra now, but I feel if I lower my attentiveness that much, even for a moment, my brother will run me through.

Instead I set this bloody dagger in an upright grip in my shaky left hand. I grit my teeth and will my hold to stay true.

"It is my justice that will keep me warm."

Dycedarg frowned, raising his sword above his head. Several feet now separated us. I knew what was coming. I could feel the stirring in the air. "Your justice, what is it?" He asked.

"To help or to hurt others, as good and evil. Brother, you are also a Holy Knight that had to determine your own justice. What is the justice that led you to this life?"

"Ironic. To help or harm myself." Dycedarg explained calmly. "In a way, we could not be more compatible. My little brother."

"At the same time," I muttered, "we could not be farther apart."

My vision was becoming hazy. It would have to be now.

Two open wounds. You'll be dead soon.

You think I care, dream self? You think I planned to live forever? I may have no reason to live 'til the morning!

That's what I'm fighting for right now!

I took a deep breath.

"Life! Is! Short!" I… and my brother echoed in unision, as if we had decided on it beforehand.

This is where I succeed or fail!

I stared mine brother in the eyes. I had always respected him, but I respected him even more now. I respected him as a great evil that needed to die. "Bury!"

With an incensed expression, Dycedarg met my gaze. "Bury!" he roared.

This was my limit. I would use the Holy Swordskill taught to me by Sir Guinevere.

I knew little of the art in detail, 'cept that it required a sword.

And indeed, I didn't have a sword…

But if I treat the dagger as a shorter shortsword, would that be enough?

I also had no idea.

I had no idea about a lot of things.

But I knew I had to do it.

"Stasis Sword!"

Several small crystals of holy energy miraculously formed for me. They circled the blade edge of my dagger.

Of course, Dycedarg was the same. Several large crystals of holy energy surrounded his blade. He looked at me with an expression of hatred then. "You were only gone a month." He spat.

I was short of breath, and had nothing to say in response.

All I could convey was one last retort. I stabbed forwards with all of my strength, launching the Stasis crystals at my enemy.

With a mighty slash, my brother sent his attack to meet mine.

In the small enclosed space of the dungeon, with a handful of witnesses, these desperate energies clashed blindingly.

I did not avert my eyes from the incandescent light. I awaited the verdict of who's justice was to prevail.

And then, as the light faded, I collapsed in pain.

My legs had given out.

But I kept my eyes forwards.

"Brother." I horsely whispered.

"Ram…za…" He wheezed. Crystals protruded from his chest. Small, dagger like crystals. A mysterious dust was scattered about.

His attack was shattered.

"Damn… was my justice… not enough…"

I didn't say anything.

"If… only… I had that stone… that power…"

"No brother." I said with certainty. "If only… really, if only my dear brother had never been tainted by it."

"Hah… hah, hah… remember me… that way… Ramza…"

I… could have tried to crawl over there and use 'Shout'. I could have tried to chant 'Raise 3'. I also could have tried to grasp the phoenix down and use the Chemist's ability of item packaging and throwing across distances.

There were a lot of ways, but I, on purpose, did nothing.

I merely watched the breath fade from the corpse that had been Dycedarg Bevolue. I strangely felt no regret or shame in this. My only overwhelming regret was due to things coming to this point in the first place.

And only then, after the battle's tension left my body, did I collapse immediately without even being able to muster the strength to heal myself.

I heard Ovelia coughing as she chanted my name desperately. I heard other cries… Mad Dog… My Shield, Agrias…

But they progressively sounded farther away.

As I lost consciousness, I had absolutely no concerns at all.

I had tried my best. I was at peace.

.

.

A/N: There we go people. I'll be meeting up with my alpha reader/muse tomorrow in order to discuss where the story should go from here. Either onto another arc, and if so which kind of arc, or immediately into the climax, or even using this as the climax and going into the epilogue that has to tie up all the loose ends.

My alpha reader/muse, who by the way has always been my alpha reader/muse for all the stories on this site, is coming in to town to meet up with me and also to see about some special treatment for his condition. He's not doing too well, so I do hope everyone can send a little karmic feeling. I've always been quiet about his contribution, because he's strangely bashful about it. However, I have to make it clear at some point.

For a Beta reader, as long as the story has good grammar, you can clearly say he's done a great job. But an Alpha reader who's job is to break the writer's block or come up with ideas, you the reader won't know anything about how he's doing. This time let's all be equally appreciative of the alpha reader/muse. It's also thanks to him that this time's writer's block of 'how to make it poetic' was broken through. Just by hanging out and talking about the problem to someone else, I got a new perspective on it. When he said 'That sounds great. Do that.' I also gain confidence even in bold ideas.