Author's Note: This should be the end of tweaks and revisions made up to chapter four. If you should ever find any grievous error, please let me know and it shall be edited immediately. I always strive for perfection with my writing. This is as much a learning process for me, as it is a creative outlet. I enjoy sharing my work with everyone! If you're new to the series, welcome! I hope you enjoy the ride!
Dear Basch,
I have long waited to hear news from you. It saddens me that you declined my intervention. I only wished to see you free.
Free to roam. Free to do as you please. Free to return home to where you belong.
Again, I understand more than anyone why you are honor bound to Larsa. The promise you made to Noah was binding, but would he want this of you? If Larsa were able to live prosperously, would you still linger behind watching his every step? Had you accepted the help, I would have had so many things planned for your return. Chefs that specialized in Landis cuisine, trinkets from your homeland, and a tribute to a fallen nation all to welcome you home.
I suppose it was not meant to be.
Al-Cid continues to visit. He demands that I visit him in Rozarria, as there is much for me to do there. He swears that once I visit him, I will know where my future lies. He now hints at a Dalmascan/Rozarrian alliance.
I've given it much thought and I see now that my visit there is needed. If I should go, I will more than likely succumb to his whims for our nations. There is still time for me to retract my decision. I love Dalmasca as I love a friend, a brother. This kingdom is very dear to me, but...
Should the kingdom of my heart be rewarded in this fashion?
I am both Queen and woman. Whatever steps I take will undoubtedly change the lives of many. I believe the choice is clear.
However, should there be a reason for this alliance to halt? Only you can answer that.
-Ashelia
Several Months Earlier
They were standing off in a corner watching the ceremony from afar. Noticing the tightening of his back and the frigid stance, she slipped her small hand into his and squeezed it. Penelo knew this day was to come. Ashe had sent a letter to Basch telling him to save her from herself. It was rather ironic that these two individuals both possessed the same flaw that was ultimately keeping them apart. Had it been any other couple, Penelo would have been happy for them. However, this was wrong. Al-Cid, as fun and flamboyant as he was, just could not make Ashe happy. She just knew it.
Penelo wasn't certain if she believed in the concept of soul mates, but if there were such a thing, shouldn't Ashe and Basch be it? Considering herself Basch's best friend, she allowed herself certain freedoms. Such a relationship gave her many privileges, which both Vaan and Larsa envied to an extent. Penelo was both honored and puzzled that she was allowed to be with him during his moment of weakness. Were they to stand there from the sidelines watching the presentation of the ring and the official announcement? She sincerely hoped that Basch was not out to torture himself by watching this entire spectacle tonight.
"You know, Balthier absolutely hates him."
Basch offered his first smile of the day.
"Balthier despises anyone who dares to upstage him."
Squeezing her hand one last time, he felt an odd bump along her ring finger. Slowly touching her hand, he noticed the bump once more. Looking down he saw the ring that Larsa had specially commissioned several months prior. Their love story was one that slowly blossomed over time. No matter the obstacles, they still were able to find one another in the end. In Penelo's case, Vaan was certainly an obstacle.
"It looks beautiful on you."
She didn't hear Basch and instead searched for any sign of distress on Ashe's face. Instead of joy or sadness, all Penelo encountered was a stern diplomatic poker expression. Ashe seemed to be going through another diplomatic duty and nothing more.
"Shouldn't you be by Larsa's side now?"
"I rather be by my friend's side."
"We knew this was coming."
"It could have been stopped. Fran told me about the fight you two had."
"Has she?"
The pair sighed as Al-Cid waved his hands around and suddenly grabbed Ashe and squeezed her tightly, while swearing sweet nothings in his native tongue. One could almost hear the invisible Rozarrian guitar play in the background every time he spoke. Penelo guessed that a certain sky pirate was somewhere out in the back vomiting from the excessive amounts of love and attention given to the Dalmascan Queen.
"We can stop this. No, you can stop this."
"If Fran really told you about our discussion, you would know why I can't."
"You're making a mistake."
Al-Cid kissed the Queen to a round of cheers and applause. He was extremely adept at pleasing a crowd. It seemed the people of Dalmasca loved this potential new king. No one had yet to hiss or spread any negative rumor aside from his reputation of behaving like a sky pirate during parties. Balthier absolutely despised the comparison. He most often compared Al-Cid to a malboro, poisonous to all five senses.
Penelo leaned into Basch's arm and held on to him, her head resting just below his shoulder. She looked up at him one last time with that pleading look of hers and he did not react.
"One day, one day you'll wake up and realize what it is that you have to do."
In Basch's mind, he already had.
"Please, explain to me one more time how the events transpired," an exhausted Larsa, pleaded with the group. Inside the palace of the late Gran Kiltias, everyone scattered around. Vaan and Penelo were in a back room tending to Ashe. Fran had gone off in search of Haba who was roaming about the building. Only Basch and Balthier were in the main entrance explaining the details to Larsa.
"The message sent to me was intercepted by a Rozarrian official. Al-Cid shall be arriving any moment. What are we to say to him?"
"The truth, I presume." Al-Cid entered the grand palace with his entourage following steps behind him. Aggravated, he did not bother with formalities and left his sunglasses on. He glared at the three men standing inside the palace, though his shades hid the intensity of his gaze. Larsa, naturally, walked up to greet Al-Cid in the most cordial way possible, but he is brushed aside. The Rozarrian marched forward to stare down Balthier and Basch. Someone was responsible for the injuries his little Desert Flower received. He would make sure they paid, as there was much to consider as Ashe was not only beautiful, but she held the key for the much-treasured Dalmascan/Rozarrian alliance that he so craved. It would not do him well that his bride, suffer and die before he was announced official king of Rozarria and Dalmasca. His heart could always heal, but no one could replace a Dalmascan Queen and that was the tragedy in this scenario.
"You send a woman to do a man's job? Chasing Espers is not what I thought the Lady Ashe meant, when she said that she needed a vacation."
Balthier seemed ready to assault him verbally, but he just looked on in disgust. Fixing the sleeves to his shirt, he pondered aloud the first thing that came to mind. "Having marital problems already?"
Never one to be offended at the remarks of those less handsome and adept at the matters of love, he waved his hand dismissing the claims at once. Had Balthier not realized that he was addressing a Margrace? He cared little for rules of court and propriety, but if there was one thing that Al-Cid knew, it was love in all its glorious forms. Why, he was certain he could have seduced every female in the group that traveled with the Lady Ashe, during the war. Yet, revealing such truths were bound to hurt this sky pirate.
"In our country, the man's duty is to honor and protect women. I respected the Lady's Ashe decision to go to war few years ago, but now there is no need for this. Whose idea was it for her to join this foolish errand?"
"Lord Al-Cid," Basch began, though he was interrupted by the man in question asking to be addressed simply as Al-Cid. "During the recapture of Shemhaizai, we concluded that the Espers had increased in strength. We decided it was in the best interest of the Queen and Lady Penelo to not participate in these seizures."
"Yes, but that does not explain how and why my little flower was fighting with you...Esper Busters?"
Larsa intervened for he knew Al-Cid better than anyone. Al-Cid was more than a character. He had a single-track mind and was devious in all matters. He was one of those few beings that could be classified as being neutral in every aspect of life. His personality and behavior lent some to believe he was a selfish cod in his personal life. Evidence suggested that his love of self exceeded all healthy standards, but there were other facets to his personality, that were easily clouded by his behavior. Searching for the depths of the Rozarrian Prince's heart was much like swimming through a murky lake. It was impossible to know what was underneath the water with all of the filth that covered the top.
"I was told before your arrival that there was no intention to involve Lady Ashe, but...the information was leaked to her by the suggestion of someone who is well experienced in such matters," Larsa said delicately.
"Now I hear that the group of Esper Busters is incompetent and cannot keep secrets to themselves. What is wrong? This team has lost much finesse after the war, I see."
"That's not true," Vaan, blurted out. He was followed by Penelo. The pair thought it was time to update everyone on Ashe's condition, when they overheard bits and pieces of Al-Cid's interrogation.
"Ah, hello Vaan. Your tongue is as loose as ever." Somewhat subdued he took off his sunglasses and handed them off to someone behind him. He was rather unconcerned that the servant girl was accidentally smacked in the face with the accessory piece, but that was Al-Cid. "You have changed little over these years. So, let me ask again, why involve the Queen in the affairs of soldiers?"
"Ashe could handle herself. She knew the risks," Penelo retorted immediately.
"Apparently not, otherwise you would have been there yourself Empress of Archadia." Penelo fumed inwardly and looked at Basch and Larsa for support. Larsa came to her side and held her wrist, almost expecting his new wife to give Al-Cid the proverbial "smack down" that Vaan claimed to have always received from her. He was not ready yet to begin his marriage with Penelo flying in a rage, whether or not she was provoked.
"Again, women doing the work of men. Can someone tell me why the men of this party have no conception as to what occurred out there? How is it that Lord Larsa is more well versed in the matters than a sky pirate and a Judge Magister? And which one of these women, I assume a woman, as apparently no male Esper Buster is smart enough to be so elusive. Which woman made a suggestion to Vaan?"
Penelo bit her bottom lip and whispered to Vaan, "Not another word, sparky."
Long slender like claws opened the door to the room, which Haba was occupying. The viera quietly entered and closed the door behind her unsurprised at Haba's position. She had been standing in front of the door waiting for her, apparently.
"Your scent is much changed, Haba."
"Ah, so you do remember."
Fran walked in a slow steady pace circling Haba, her eyes glimmering with forbidden knowledge.
"Will the others rebel soon?"
"Soon enough."
The mood of the room changed as a dagger is pulled out and thrust against Haba's neck. She doesn't react nor is she frightened. The tension is thick and all consuming. Haba waited for the blade to slice her neck, but the dagger only tickled her neck as it slid against her skin. The viera faced her opponent, crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side. She grabbed hold of Haba's long black tresses and inhaled the scent. Fran could no longer deny who was standing before her.
Centuries Earlier
"It is time we depart."
The three little girls woke up to find the Wood's dream weaver towering before them. All children of the wood were protected in this sacred dome. They were sleeping together in a bed, huddled closely to one another. Startled awake, they began to dress themselves. Had it been time for their induction? There were to be no more little vieras for several more decades they were told. All of this commotion was a blur to the youngest one. The two older sisters felt it was best to observe the dream weaver.
"Where do you take us?" The oldest asked.
"To your future," the dream weaver said in an exasperated voice. The reaction was atypical of viera and stunned the three young ones.
No being was allowed to live, had they disturbed the sanctity that was this room. Younger viera were separated by family, clan, and future position, however they were the only younger viera alive at this time. The young ones were under constant surveillance. For young viera to be taken from the dome before their induction ceremony into the wood was met with the most strict and harshest of punishments. There were secrets that needed to be learned, traditions passed, and knowledge only to be held by the viera.
"We go to Rozarria. A crystal has taken root into the wood and can no longer be removed."
Being mindful of their teachings, they listened well and followed. Not one complained about the shawl meant to hide their beautiful bunny-like ears. They did not cry when taken away from home and the safety of the wood. The trio trust and follow the elder viera. That is how the wood functioned. One always trusted the wisdom of the wood.
"Why are we here?" Two of the younger sisters tended to speak in unison.
The oldest sister, whose beautiful white hair was loose and wild only, spoke when the situation called for it. Her vision ached at the new sights, but she continued to admire the world outside the wood.
"We are to watch."
The younger ones cannot argue. They only wait, watch, and listen. Obedient as always, they kept to the shadows and witnessed the odd shaped bodies of humes for the first time.
The Rozarrians were holding a sacred religious ceremony. The chosen one was revealed today and that would mean she would become an intermediary between all living creatures and the Gods. They speak in that native tongue, so harsh and loud were their voices that the little girls pulled down their ears to smother the noise.
"It's deafening."
"It's confusing."
"It is amazing," replied the middle sister. She appears ashamed and adds, "That such voices exist."
The ceremony was several hours long, but it sped by to the viera. All they had to do was blink and the event was over. The dream weaver pulled them off to the side. They are to wait again. She warned them to take in the scents of all the people around them. She demanded that they remember the smell of hume flesh, the colorful odors each one emitted. She told them to remember each distinctive marker for this would be their true test.
"Viera children. So the Gods do not lie," replied the young woman with flowing black hair. "Are they the viera you have spoken of?"
"Yes," answered the dream weaver. "Your safety lies within their grasp."
"I am in need of no protection. I have the shield of the Gods. They look after me and no prophecy can alter that."
She knelt down and hugged the youngest of the three. The Rozarrian smirked ever so slightly as she ran her fingers through the hair of the middle sister. She pulled her hair close to her face and took in the scent. They smelt of rare flowers and fresh rain. The younger viera carried the heavy scent of the wood that made them ever more darling to curious on lookers.
The dream weaver's countenance and voice was more weary and anxious.
"The God's creations rebel as we speak. Horrors take place. Each of you will play a part if you heed my counsel."
"Is that all?" The oldest viera child was not pleased with the events that so far have transpired.
"You see Viera," replied the Rozarrian, "even your children doubt your prophecy. How can three children protect me from harm?"
"You know not of the way of the wood. Without them you put yourself at risk."
The hume stood up and patted the oldest girl on the head as if she were a pet chocobo. The girl frowned and wished she had never taken off her shawl during the ceremony now.
"Take them home. You underestimate the protection of the Gods. I have served them for many years and tonight I have been rewarded. Go home Viera. Your prophecies mean nothing to me."
The dream weaver nodded and looked down at the children. "One leaves the wood, one guards the wood, and the other leads the wood. That is your new future now."
"No one ever leaves the wood," answered the oldest.
"One will."
Each one is warned of the coming events. Weeks passed and the events transpired just as the dream weaver predicted. Luckily, the three sisters were unaware of the chaos in hume civilization. Their little voices only pleaded to return home.
The young viera were finally allowed by the dream weaver to make the trek back home towards the end of the rebellion against the Gods. Once in the Golmore Jungle, the dream weaver knelt down and said the most heretical statement of all time.
"Even the wood can make mistakes. I pray this forbidden knowledge keeps you all safe."
She opened her mouth to speak once more, when the dream weaver is shot down by a flurry of arrows. The law of the wood was absolute. No one was to take a viera child away from her home. All three sisters watched as her body slumped on top of the middle sister. The dream weaver's life hanged on by a single thread. She forced herself off the middle sister and walked towards her newfound enemies.
She had heard whispers of banishment for the children had they left home. This would be her final doing as a dream weaver.
"You cannot banish the children. They have yet to leave the wood. I was to take them to Rozarria, but they were scared and frightened.
Their leader came forward for this was truly a hideous moment during her reign. Moments earlier she decreed that a fellow viera be executed and banishment for the three younger ones.
The dream weaver always told her that her replacement was of blood. It brought her satisfaction knowing that even this prophecy could not be upheld, as no viera would ever lay a hand against her. She always believed this prophecy meant that the viera who succeeded her lusted after her position. She was not open to the other possibilities.
The dream weaver in an act of defiance grabbed a quiver of arrows and aimed them at the young ones.
"I will attack them all." The brazen lie from the dream weaver's lips startled everyone around her.
The three sisters held each other's tiny hands. They whispered goodbyes to one another.
"NO!"
For some reason unknown, the leader was spurred into action. Her body flailed about as she covered the younger children. She thought she heard the gasps of her fellow kin, but she was wrong. It was she, who gasped for air, once the results were known to her. The arrow had shot through her midsection and somehow slanted up through the exit wound. The point of the arrow was tantalizingly close to her neck as it leaked blood upon the floor.
Many viera were enraged at the quick defeat of their leader. It was all too much and the rest of their fury was placed upon their fallen dream weaver.
Mutinous screams bellowed through the night before the three sisters were finally ushered back into the wood.
They are repeatedly asked if they ever left the wood.
"No," the sisters all lied, "we never left the wood."
Ever since then, Jote learned never to aid a hume ever again.
Present Day
Releasing Haba's hair Fran put the dagger back inside her suit. She was a ferocious woman who felt a myriad of emotions that she kept dormant under that controlled visage of hers.
"It is over. I know your truth."
Haba reached out and touched Fran's forehead.
"Olvide," she whispered.
Fran closed her eyes. The memories of her past, the meeting with Haba were all memories that melted away, much like snow. She had a vague sense that something was missing, but the further the magicks probed into her memory the more it erased any and all connection to Haba.
Taken aback, before finalizing the spell, Haba had simply one thing to ask of her.
"Viera," she was interested in Fran's lack of struggle during the casting of the spell, "you knew, didn't you?"
"Even a shamaness cannot change her destiny."
Once the spell was sealed, Haba left Fran with directions as to her next actions. She nodded her head and headed for the door. Pausing, the viera looked back at the figure before her. She did not know who this woman was or what her intentions were, but at the core of her being, she knew something was wrong. It was that strong intuition of hers that kept Fran alive all these years. One's intuition can never be unlearned."
"Yes?"
Fran looked to see the holy stones, magicite, and crystals in her hand. They were apparently handed to her. These stones would keep all the remaining Espers at bay.
"Your scent is familiar."
However, no more could be said of the matter once the sound of stones cracking and screaming trickled into the room. Another Esper had rebelled. Fran ran off in search of her friends pushing her worries aside. Those feelings would have to be explored at another time. For now, all that mattered was the safety of loved ones.