Author's Note: Okay, I may have said I didn't have time to keep updating, but your responses and wonderful reviews have spurred me on. I want to keep writing and it's all just fitting together. In this chapter, I hope I haven't given too much away, nasti person that I am, I still want you all guessing. But I had to get the plot moving on. Also, I hope I haven't gone over the top. Please enjoy and continue to review, your opinions always matter!
I don't own nuffin' of FF12…except maybe my own characters.
Final Fantasy 12
TRUE FEELINGS
HATE
Would the others dare to stop Her? The consequences of Her actions would surely invoke a seething response as She deceived the one who ensured Her wrath. They wouldn't even warn Her for fear of that same hate falling on to them. So they allowed it, not that they could even hope to stop Her if they tried.
The hate She bore disfigured Him, She took away his beauty and majesty and bound Him in the depths of darkness, where He would stay for eternity. He would fester and only grow more malformed and hideous. There would be no more love for Him, only suffering.
Archades - Year 704
The request for his presence was an unusual one. Normally it was Gramis who would beckon for him, but for the eldest son to want to see him, made the Judge a little uneasy. He had waited for a long time outside the chambers, but eventually the voice called for him to enter. He pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped inside.
This room was very austere, darker in tone than the Emperor's study, the blinds were drawn over the large windows to prevent any kind of light from entering. In front of those windows was a large desk behind which was sitting Vayne Solidor. He too looked dark in these shadows, his long black hair covering his face and his body dressed in the blackest robes. He was muttering to himself as he rustled through some papers on the desk, throwing some away, but murmuring and chuckling gently.
"You sent for me, my lord?" he asked as the mumbling from the Emperor's son continued. Vayne ignored him for a moment, still talking to himself and browsing through the files before him. Then he looked up. Those eyes were just as dark as his hair.
"Gabranth. Yes…" Vayne put the papers down and leaned back in his chair. He steepled his two index fingers and gently pressed them against his lips. "We have a problem. King Raminas of Dalmasca is proving to be a little troublesome and of course it could put Archadia's plans into ruin. I called you here because I wanted to ask you something."
"Yes, my lord Vayne." Gabranth bowed his head in respect.
"You have a brother."
Basch. Noah had not thought of his brother for a long time, those few occasions when he did, he felt only the deepest contempt for him. The coward had run away from Landis, discarding everything that the both of them had once held dear, leaving him to bare the burden of restoring their homeland. The hatred boiled once again inside him.
"Yes, my lord." Gabranth replied.
"A twin?"
"We are identical…yes…"
The smile on Vayne's lips was sly.
"Excellent. I also understand that your twin declined my father's offer to join Archadia."
"Yes…sire…I know not what has become of him."
"Fortunately…I do."
Noah felt his heart race. For the briefest of seconds there was a joy at hearing something about his sibling, however the contempt and bitterness returned once again. He clenched his fists and his teeth ground together in fierce abhorrence.
"CAPTAIN Basch Fon Ronsenberg…" Vayne had to laugh as he read the reports before him. "Of the Dalmascan Army. A Knight actually, a very prestigious position. From what I can read here, it seems he too has climbed the ranks and holds the respect of his leaders. Especially the King. And…oh my… this is rather sweet. He is appointed Protector of Princess Asheila B'nargin! What a co-incidence. How is my own brother, Gabranth?"
"He is…well."
"Lovely. I'll see him later for dinner, of course. But I'm not here to talk about dear Larsa. Gabranth, from your mannerisms and reactions to this piece of news, it seems you hold no love for your Knightly twin."
"He is no Knight. He is a coward." Gabranth uttered.
"And if you saw him…again? Now?"
His chest was tightening, Noah couldn't make sense of the incensed feelings that had festered for his brother. Their childhood had been so different, they had been friends, true brothers as their parents had brought them up to be, but he couldn't feel that love now. He didn't know where it had gone.
If he saw Basch again? What would he do?
"I'd kill him."
The smile on Vayne's face seemed as dark as his eyes. Something sinister lurked behind this youthful face.
"That's going a bit too far. How would you like to see him humiliated? His name and honour stripped from him? Basch would become a disgrace to Dalmasca, something he would deserve, would it not?"
Beneath his Judge helm, a satisfied smirk came across Gabranth's face. Disgrace, a fine and fitting punishment for his brother, one that Gabranth would be only too happy to dish out.
"What do you have in mind, my lord?"
Vayne finally got up to his feet. Black. Everything about him screamed black, only his pale white skin contrasted against this colour of his soul and appearance.
"An…advisor suggested to me that a certain Knight would be blamed for a tragic and horrific event bestowed on King Raminas. Though…a man who looked like him…exactly like him….say his fill that role, make it seem that it was the good Captain who…."
"And what is it you want me to do for the King of Dalmasca?"
"End his life, Gabranth. Commit plain and simple murder."
It was this moment, that Gabranth should have realised what he had really become.
Golomore Jungle Year 707
The pale creature stood before the wood, a feral haze bloodied in her eyes. Around her was a blue and silver aura which shimmered against her skin and her hands were blazing with ice cold intensity. She set on fire, the aura roaring into blue liquid flames as the mist and magic were ignited by her intent.
In her palms the light softened, rounded into balls and gently hovered. Within distance, these fiends were in a perfect and clear shot and although she couldn't feel it any more, she knew the wood was outraged. She didn't care, as she lobbed one of the balls of ice and flame directly into the centre of the mass of creatures. It exploded on impact, shooting up numerous shards of ice from the ground, but there was no element to it. Only immense power. The howls of agony echoed through the beasts, some of them wanting to turn and run, but she threw the other ball and again it sprouted tall sharp ice spikes. As they came forth, some of the beast's bodies were speared, crunching through the hides and bones and exposing their innards, but for those who the first onslaught missed, there was the kiss.
Her long slender fingers, iced with the blue flames on the tips, pressed gently to her lips. The kiss sealed the last part of the Quickening, before she held out her hand and tore them all to pieces. The explosion belched out an ice cold back draft that whipped at her, dousing her flames and draining the little strength she had left. Fran fell back into the heap.
There was screaming. She couldn't tell where it was coming from, but she heard him.
"Heal it for god's sake!" There was horrible panic in his voice, she could only just about hear his orders above the cries. Whoever it was, they were in pain, such horrific and terrible pain.
"I'm trying!!" cried a high pitched yell. Penelo. "My magic is low! I'll only be able to stop the bleeding, nothing more!"
The screaming wouldn't stop. It was so heart wrenching, that Fran could barely contain herself. She tried to cut off those sounds by putting her hands of the bottom of her long ears, but there was pain from her wound. Make him stop screaming! Make that awful noise stop!!
"Have you done it?!" Vaan called above the crying. Fran saw a hazing form of the young man crowding Penelo. There was someone on the ground in front of her, there was blood soaking in the dirt but she couldn't see who it belonged to.
"Yes! But he can still feel it! He's lost his bloody leg, Vaan! What can you expect magic to do for the trauma?!"
"Where is it?! Can we attach it?!!"
"NO! I can't reattach it! He's lost his leg! Don't you understand?!! It's gone!!!"
She was screaming now. The poor youngster was frantic and scared and her hands were stained. Fran felt the stinging tears on her skin and a strange empathy with the hume. She wanted to touch her, hold her hand, comfort her…share in her remorse. Why? Why did she feel this? Viera were not prone to such outbursts of emotion like this…they certainly never wanted to feel so empathic towards Humes. Fran certainly didn't to admit to those kind of feelings…not even to her "partner."
His hand touched her head, his fingers laced through her silver hair and then it rested gently on her stomach.
"Thank you, Fran. You saved us…we never knew…." Balthier coughed and then his vulnerability vanished only to be replaced by the suave pirate charm he always played. The leading man. "But we could have handled it. Really. Now, if you would be so kind as to stop bleeding…we would all appreciate it."
"Even…" Fran felt the grief choking her throat. "Even…the…Emperor?"
"He's lost a leg. He'll get over it."
Was he serious? Fran craned her neck to try and see past the still shocked Penelo. She was kneeling next to a very ashen and frail Larsa. He was shaking, the loss of blood causing shock to his body, but not as much as the missing right leg from below his knee. The magic Penelo had cast, had healed it so the blood would stop, but all there was, was a stump, healed flesh instead of a leg and foot. Larsa was only thirteen, still a child…so young…how could he lose a leg? How would a Hume child with such disability endure?
"What happened? Everything is such a blur. It's too quiet."
It was silent. Even when she had left…the voice of the wood had been like a mumble or an unclear whisper, but she had felt it. Over the many years that whisper faded, it slipped away and became now only a light breeze in the air. There was nothing and Fran despaired. She wanted to die.
"You should leave." came a voice from the darkness. "You are no longer one of us."
Jote.
"Golomore will no longer tolerate its deserters." The Viera appeared out of nowhere, stepping through and past Fran's friends, to stand over her sister's body. Fran could see her, peering down at her with a sadness in her eyes, but there was still that disapproval, the bitter disapproval and anger.
"What has happened to her?!" shouted Vaan. "What is making her bleed like this?!"
"She is no longer Viera" Jote said calmly. She never took her eyes off Fran as she still shivered on the ground with convulsions. "She has awoken and the wood has been made to act….it knows that those who have abandoned it, are no longer worthy of it's love or of it's protection. They've changed you, Fran, as they will with all those who left these boundaries. Your body is altered on the inside, the Viera heart no longer beats within you. You will be like them, these Humes, full of emotions and sentiment, you will endure what they have to. But the Wood will NEVER let you forget what you once were. They want you to pay."
"Who am I?!" wailed Fran, sobbing uncontrollably. "What am I?!"
"Neither Viera nor Hume." Jote whispered. "You are in between. There is no more hope for you, only the burden of these wretched and inferior emotions. You incurred the wrath of the wood, your assault on them now has broken your bond with them. They've cut you off. Humes…you, none of you will be welcome at all in this sacred place."
"You truly feel nothing for what your precious wood has done to us?!" Penelo jumped to her feet. Fran never saw such fire in the young girl. Her usually gentle and sweet manner was gone and she was furious with worry and despair. "Larsa! Those BEASTS tore his leg off! Your wood set them upon us! All he wanted to do was help and YOUR WOOD made this happen! Heal him like I know your kind can do! Give him back his limb!"
Jote was not at all like the time Vaan and the others had seen her last. She had been rude to them then, but now, it seemed as if she would hardly even acknowledge them. Humes were below the Viera…she had no reason to even respond. Jote peered round at the mess Fran's Quickening had left and then crouched down next to her. Jote placed her hand on Fran's shoulder and pressed her mouth close to her ear.
"You used the gift of the Quickenings against your creators." she hissed. "They want you to bleed, Fran and be like those fragile and inferior Humes you are so keen on. I no longer have any sisters….I alone am loyal."
"Alone?…Mrjn…what happened to her?"
"She left….she abandoned the wood just like you and she will bare the consequences. Leave, Fran. There is nothing left for you here."
Jote allowed one last connection of sisterly love, Jote kissed her lips to Fran's feverish brow, before rising up and striding out of sight. The Viera leader had spoken the Wood's wishes. There was nothing more that could be done.
"Fran…" Balthier cradled her head into his lap. "Don't listen to her. It'll be all right."
No it wouldn't. How could he even begin to understand what she was feeling now? Golomore had made its mind against the Viera who had forsaken it's love. From the moment they had emerged from the ground there had been a bond, one that they had never hoped to break…but Fran had done that. Others had journeyed beyond the Golomore wood and it's protection and now there was only the emptiness that awaited them.
"Is that all?!?!" Vaan cried. "We've gone through all this shit and it ends like this?!"
"Yes!" Penelo snapped back as she crouched down next to Larsa. "That is all! We have to leave! We need to get Larsa out of here! He needs medical attention as soon as possible!"
She wrapped her arms around the young Emperor, trying desperately hard to sooth his shaking. It seemed he never would, for his eyes couldn't tear away from the stump below his knee. He was ever so pale and cold, Penelo's hold around him did nothing to warm him or comfort him.
"What about Fran?" Vaan said. "Why is she still bleeding?"
Balthier had already begun to check over his partner. His hands gently checked her skin, lifting some parts of her armour in search of this wound that was making her so weak. There was none that he could find, she didn't even have a scratch on her.
"Your body is altered on the inside…"
Jote's words caused Balthier to check one last place. He shifted his position, keeping his back to the others as he cautiously pulled at the leather that covered the area between her legs. The blood came from there, a place that defined a woman but no Viera ever had. A sad smile drifted across Balthier's face as he realised just what had happened to her. The wood had done this to her as punishment, though to any Hume it would not seem so bad. The days ahead for Fran would be difficult for her to adjust to, but he would be there. Balthier was determined to help her get through this change.
In the distance, there was a piercing howl. The fiends were coming back again.
"Let's get out of here." said Balthier as he scooped Fran up into his arms. "Vaan, can you carry Larsa?"
"I'll try…but what is wrong with Fran?"
"Oh nothing a little bit of roller skating couldn't cure."
Rabanastre - Year 691
"Asheila." The voice caused the little girl to leap up from her hiding position and spin round. Her elbow knocked hard against the pillar. "What are you doing?"
Ashe clasped at her arm, but she kept her head bowed. Her mother had found her and she was going to be in trouble.
"Nothing. Just looking."
"Why are you following him?"
"Who?"
Ashe tried to put on her innocent face for her mother, but Amalia was having none of it. She was standing with her hands on her hips and glaring down at her with a commanding gaze. Ashe noticed that her mother was wearing the light red dress again. It wasn't a very flattering one, it made her look more frail than she already was and the past week she had been ill. Normally Amalia would spend hours to make her waist length golden blonde hair into beautiful plats and braids, dressing them with long feathers, but today it was just hanging down. She still looked beautiful, Ashe would always think that, but there was a faded spirit about her today. There was no sparkle in her eye.
"You know very well who. Why are you following him?"
"I don't know. Is he new?"
"No. He has been here before you were born. He has been in our service for years…so no playing your silly games."
Amalia looked across the room and allowed a small smile to drift across her lips. The young twenty one year old had prevailed beyond all her expectations and tonight, she would request Raminas to make him a Knight.
"Okay…I won't."
"And no kicking him either. You have the tendency to kick new soldiers in the shins. It is not funny Asheila. I don't expect such behaviour from you, ever! Basch will not tolerate it either."
"Is that his name?" Ashe smiled, a fiendish grin spreading across her face. She watched the young man conversing with the King, he was very humble, despite the fact that her father was telling him not to be. He was also extremely tall. Ashe had never seen such a giant. She gawped at his figure, totally in awe with his wide heavy set shoulders and ample muscular frame. Unlike some of the other guards and Knights, who all had short cropped her, his long blonde feathered strands were scrunched back as much as possible into a small tail. Unlike some of the other men, he wasn't clean shaved and his stubbled beard gave him a very rugged look.
"He's so tall!" she gasped. "Can he touch the ceiling? Does he bang his head when he goes through the doors? Can he reach his toes?"
Amalia had to chuckle at such naivety from her daughter. Basch was tall, even to her, but to Ashe he must appear enormous. Amalia held out her hand for Ashe.
"Why don't you ask him?"
"No!" Ashe cried, lunging herself at her mother and clinging onto her dress with all her might.
"You're not frightened of him, are you?" There was a little wail in amongst the folds of the red dress. Amalia sighed. "Come now…stop this. Go and meet him…he isn't a bad man."
"I don't want to!!"
"Then why follow him?"
Ashe never responded, she continued to cling to her mother and wail incomprehensible words into the dress material. It was another tantrum and silly behaviour that Amalia was not going to put up with. She grabbed Ashe's hand and gently pulled her towards the centre of the throne room. A high pitched squeal of defiance caused Raminas and Basch to stop in mid-sentence. They smiled at the approach of the woman and girl. Basch bowed at his waist in greeting.
"Highness."
"Basch…." Amalia could feel Ashe resisting and pulling in her grasp. She was trying to hide once again behind her flowing dress. "I know you haven't seen much of her due to your other duties, but I think it's time you met Ashe properly. Asheila…this is Basch Fon Ronsenberg."
"Princess, it is an honour." Basch held out a hand towards the little girl.
Ashe peered round her mother's leg at the sound of his deep soothing voice. He was kneeling down to her level and a massive hand was stretched out in her direction. The proper, ladylike and royal thing to do was to take that hand at shake it, but all sorts of thoughts came into her mind, so Ashe just stood there staring at him. After a while, he became a little confused as the why the king's daughter was looking at him like that, but he took his hand back and rested it on his knee.
Ashe was summing him up. There was a sudden and faint recollection. There was a memory…of a man in the back round, his presence always close by. Guarding, standing watch, keeping his distance. The fire behind those deep blue eyes that stared back at her held a fierce determination to duty, a swelling of pride and honour. Ashe eventually managed to let go of her mother and she approached the man. Her own eyes wide in awe at this giant, Ashe circled him, trying to get some sense out of this meeting. There was something very different about him.
Was it because she could trust him? He was devoted to this family, he would be devoted…already was…to her. She could tell.
"Asheila…it's rude to stare." said her father. "Greet the man. Say hello."
Once again Basch held out his hand. Ashe looked at it, the huge fingers were massive but strong. She looked down at her own hand for a while and feared his hold would surely break or crush her. Ashe backed away, but eye contact between the two of them never broke.
"Ashe. Stop now." her mother said. "You will get to know him in time."
"Basch." The princess took a few more tentative steps back to him. She knew, it all finally dawned on her what this man would be. She frowned and felt a hatred building up inside her. He was to be another appointed protector and that was something she didn't want. She would refuse to have any more Knights and guards swamping her, crowding and choking her. She didn't want more people to tell her what she could and couldn't do. So, Asheila responded in a way she only knew how to.
The hand flew through the air and slapped against his face, smacking a red mark across his cheek. The uproar from her parents was the signal for Ashe to turn around and run as fast as she could, leaving Basch Fon Ronsenberg stunned on the floor, his hand touching his smarting skin.
"Basch! I'm SO sorry!" cried Amalia, her face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and horror. "She was never brought up to behave like this!"
"Your majesties." Basch groaned as he struggled to his feet. His cheek still burned, Asheila was quite strong for a four year old. "It's all right. Really."
"I will have words with her." said Raminas sternly. "She will not treat anyone in such a manner!"
"King Raminas…" Basch stood attentive before his sovereign. "You have selected me as one of the Princess' protectors and I am honoured. If it is not so bold in asking, perhaps I should talk to her. I will be spending some more time with her and I think I could get her to listen to me."
"A more active role in our daughter's life might prove beneficial to both of you." Raminas nodded, a warm approving smile formed beneath his white beard. "Though…would you not prefer to become a Knight in the Order? Some say that going to battle would be easier than dealing with a four year old child."
"If the King requests these responsibilities of me, I will accept them both. Gladly."
Both the King and Queen smiled their thanks towards the young man. The look of relief and hope so evident on their faces. They trusted him and they knew that he would do right for their daughter.
Aerodrome - Bhujerba - Year 707
The memory provoked a smile on Ashe's face. For a while, she forgot about Arla and the threats of war in Ivalice, remembering instead of her first clear recollection of Basch Fon Ronsenberg. She had been awful to him, hating that he could tell her what to do, but now as they waited to board the private airship, Ashe didn't want to think what would have happened if he hadn't been in her life.
He had always been there and now she would repay him. She would find out who wanted to reveal his true identity and she wouldn't allow his death to become a reality.
"You find something funny?" asked Basch. Ashe peered up at him, still hating that he had to hide his face behind that ugly mask. She nodded.
"Just remembering the first time we met."
"Ah. You hit me, as I recall."
"I hated you." Ashe shrugged her shoulders. "At first…but…I guess I was a rotten spoilt and wild child."
"Not always. But…that was not my first memory of you."
"Oh?"
She heard him. She heard him actually laughing! From deep within his armoured shell, there came a chuckle, followed by a beautiful deep booming laugh. Never in all her life had she heard him do this, Ashe was lost for breath at hearing this man express such a boisterous display of mirth. She found herself uncertain whether to join in with him, or cry at the profound, powerful and uplifting sound he was emitting.
"It was not the most pleasant of experiences…" he chuckled.
"Though you laugh at its remembrance?" Ashe asked.
"You were sick."
Ashe couldn't contain herself. She burst out laughing.
"I was sick?!" she cried her hands cupping over her mouth.
"All over me."
"Oh NO!" The tears were streaming down her face, she felt giddy with such hilarity that she had to stop herself from falling by clinging onto his arm. Basch laughing once more was holding her up, his body shaking as he sniggered. "Oh please!! Tell me that isn't true!"
"It was true, Highness!! Though you were only a few weeks old and…."
The laughter stopped almost as suddenly as it had begun. He gazed down at her and the smile was no longer on her lips. The moment had changed from such close familiarity to one of awkward discomfort.
It shouldn't be like this. They weren't supposed to be friends or equals, they weren't supposed to be having fun or even laughing. It wasn't right and it couldn't happen again. Neither of them could allow themselves to be anything other than what they were.
"He's too old for you!. He's known you even before you were born!"
"She's too young. She could be your daughter!"
"He is a Knight of Dalmasca!"
"She's your Queen."
"It's not our place."
But inside each of them, there was pressure from screaming souls that longed for them to give in. They would break them eventually and allow what so needed to be done. What they all wanted for so long.
"The ship is ready, Queen Asheila."
Ashe was broken from her trance by the voice of the Attendant. The woman stood with her head bowed, obviously showing that she hadn't wanted to interrupt the silent tension between Ashe and the Judge. In a way, it was a relief, Ashe couldn't stand the storm of emotions ripping her up inside as she looked at him. Always there was an inner battle on three sides; her sense of duty and of what was right for her and Dalmasca, the growing and chaotic punches of her own desires and Her. All of them were proving too hard to control, but it was control that she had to fight to maintain.
"Thank you." Asheila stammered. "Please, show us the way."
"Majesty."
The Attendant moved away from behind her counter and lead the Queen and Judge through the Aerodrome. They passed the main hangers for the public and commercial flights, to reach the docking ports for the private ships. The ship that awaited the two of them was but a simple cruise shuttle, one of Ondore's own, an adequate craft that would take them to the Phon Coast. It wasn't as nice as the Strahl but it was sufficient.
Basch moved into the cockpit and seated himself down in the pilot's seat. He squirmed a little in the chair for the armour was chafing at his legs and back, but he began all the manual checks needed whilst Ashe rested in the rear cabin. As the flight got underway, they both kept their distance from each other, focusing once again on what would happen when they reached Phon.
Basch knew, but he never said, that to recognise the Bangaa that attacked her would be a very difficult task for the Queen. It had been night on the Giza plains, torrential downpour of the season also impaired vision, but the main difficulty was that most Bangaa, tended to look alike. How would Ashe even think about finding them?
They had been flying for half an hour, when Basch could no longer stand the silence. He needed to confide in her, his worries about her plan. He thought they should've gone to Rabanastre and spoken to Arla. When her name was mentioned, he had seen the look of hurt on Ashe's face and he felt it himself. Arla had been close to both of them.
Basch put the ship on autopilot and rose from his chair. If he could convince her to return back to the palace, the journey wouldn't take nearly as long.
He walked into the rear cabin and saw Ashe lying on the small single bed, fast asleep. She must have been extremely tired. Her hair was sprayed over the pillow and a single hand was draped over her rising and falling chest. Basch stood there for a few seconds, watching her, entranced by her angelic beauty. He took off his helm and laid it on the floor next to her. Basch resisted the urge to seat himself at her side, but as he looked closer, inside him, He screamed. He knew something was wrong straight away and Basch cursed himself for not realising. Ashe's sleep was not a natural one, she was under the power of magics and someone else was aboard.
He spun round, but saw no one. Frantic, Basch began to look around the cabin, he tore up anything that wasn't fixed to the ground, a mad fury doubled as his search of this tiny ship still revealed no one around. Yet he knew there was.
"SHOW YOURSELF!" he yelled. He didn't reach for his weapon, for the power was already pulsing in his clenched fists. Basch knew that if he didn't calm down, the ship could be ripped apart by his own magics. The balls of darkness were oozing from his hands, as he carried on storming around the ship. He couldn't sooth his rage…he wasn't being allowed to.
"You coward…why don't you fight US?!"
There was the sound of scrambling just behind him, near Ashe. He turned and saw a faint transparent outline of a person climbing through the wreckage he had caused. Basch grinned, but before he could even pummel the invisible intruder, a sharp piercing pain stabbed through his armour and deep into his side, followed by a cracking blow to his skull.
Everything went black. But He still howled with anger.
The Great Crystal - Year 706
"WHERE IS SHE?!" Eri screamed with seething fury and threw her helm harshly at the crystalline wall behind her. "You said she would be here!!"
"This is not possible, Eri. It cannot be possible, she must still be here. Nothing can defeat her…she was imprisoned here for eternity, the gods saw to that!"
"The gods." Eri spat on the floor. "You mean the Occuria?!"
"I mean the gods, Eri. "The First ones". They put her here and here is where she should still be. I am at a loss as to what could have happened."
What could have happened? Everything was falling apart, careful plans that had been thought of centuries before Eri even existed were being ruined. Her future was in shreds, there was no more hope. She had spent hours, possibly even days exploring this sacred place, hoping for any signs of this treasure, but it seemed as if someone else had beaten her to it.
"Asheila." Eri spoke the name with a spiteful hatred. "She has been here."
"The Dynast-king's heir. Her presence has graced this place, but not even she could have defeated this Esper. Ultima only answers to one."
Eri remembered the stories she had been told. The First One had imprisoned all those who rebelled against her, crushing her enemies and preventing them from ever escaping or gaining power. She had put them all in their place, but for her the punishment was severance, she had been cut off from her world along with her own kin and never had her presence been seen again.
"And your role in this?" Eri gazed around at the glowing nethicite crystal that hummed a warm and powerful vibration through her. She placed her hand against the rough surface and closed her eyes. She felt so aroused, so mighty, she felt she could do anything. "What exactly is it that you want out of all this?"
"I am merely a devoted servant, Eri. I'm following the wishes of my gods and carrying out their instructions. As you have sworn to do for mine. Ivalice has been scarred and it is lost. There is no future for it, unless we find Ultima. She is the only one that we need."
"I no longer matter?" Eri asked bitterly. "Does Teiern no longer matter?"
Her companion laughed, if it really was such a sound. Eri wasn't sure if the creature was even capable of emotion.
"Oh…you matter. None of this could be done without you, Eri. But don't think for a second that you are more important than the High Seraph. You will play your part. We only have to find her…then all will be forgiven."
There was something she wasn't being told. Most of her adult life, Eri had been in the presence of this being and Eri knew her very well. There was a part of this that had her companion very worried, very worried indeed and the missing Esper was only just the beginning.
"I had hoped that it wouldn't come to this, my powers might not be sufficient. Eri…we have one last option, or else everything we have worked for is finished."
"I think I know what you mean." Eri recalled the tales, remembered the myths and legends handed down over the centuries and shuddered. She knew her companion was strong, but Eri saw the doubt in those misty black eyes. She saw the fear.
Archades Year 704
The sound of roaring rage and smashing glass caused Drace to pound furiously on the door. The ruckus inside increased, pounding and booming with such ferocity that the corridors themselves seemed to shake. Drace kicked as hard as she could against the door until it finally burst open, revealing the chaos inside.
"Gabranth!!!"
The room was wreaked beyond measure, there was not a trace of anything that resembled furniture except for one large frame that held a broken full length mirror. Drace noticed Gabranth standing in front of the mirror, glaring at the cracked pieces that reflected back his naked appearance.
"What do you want, Drace?" Gabranth's deep husking voice croaked. The woman was still trying to take all of this carnage in, so much damage was done by a hatred she knew only too well. One that she had hoped to help sooth.
"You didn't turn up." she said, treading over the splintered wood that could have once been a bed. "We were to have dinner together."
"Dinner is cancelled." he growled. "I'm busy."
"Busy festering, I see."
The growling response would normally send anyone else straight for the door, but Drace knew better and she pressed her hand against his bare shoulder. He was injured, glass and wood splinters were embedded in him, bruises covered his skin, but the hurt was more in evident in his livid frown.
"You are taking this too seriously, Gabranth." she said in a mellow loving tone. "What did Vayne promise you that you would agree to put yourself through this?"
Her hand reached up to stroke through his long wispy blonde hair, but he flinched under her contact.
"What do you see in this mirror, Drace?" he snarled.
"You really want me to answer that?" She would have told him, if she knew he really wanted to hear those words.
"I see only him." Gabranth said. "I see my brother looking back at me and I feel so enraged. I'm disgusted, I'm sick and I want to vomit this feeling from my stomach. Basch did as I, for Landis. He did fight, but he GAVE up. He stopped fighting and ran, throwing all our hope away. He left me to see the final fall of our homeland. I thought I could persuade him to come with me to Archades…I thought he could still redeem himself and we could have made Landis great once again. The weak fool. All these years he never returned home, never even once tried to restore its beauty and glory. I feel only hate to him now. I look in this mirror and I see myself as him…his hair…his face, this beard….I hate him! I hate myself!"
Roaring and spitting with rage, Gabranth smashed his fist again and again in to the mirror, the glass cutting his knuckles. Drace pulled him back, he was almost like a madman in a frenzy struggling in her arms, his naked body shaking against her armour, his face reddened with hate.
"STOP THIS!" she cried, "Don't do this to yourself! Don't agree to whatever twisted plan Vayne now has in store!"
"I already have! I will carry out Vayne's wish, for it will allow this putrid angst knotting in my stomach to finally be released! I will have satisfaction and Basch will get what he deserves! He will pay for his cowardice!"
Gabranth then suddenly smiled, a calm, serene and quite frightening change came about him. He wiped his face with his bloodied knuckles and then reached for Drace's helm.
He took it off her and as her black and silver streaked hair fell down past her shoulders, his hand stroked her smooth cheek with affection.
"I would suggest…my Drace…that you allow me to do this. Also, do not question Vayne again. He has Archadia's best interests at heart…I have your best interests held in mine. It would be a shame for this relationship to end…badly."
Drace tried not to weep at such a threat as she felt his lips press against hers. She did love him, but she feared his feelings had changed since they had first met each other. He was accepting so much of the lies and deceit from Vayne, that Drace was worried that it would destroy him.
Already she felt the lack of love in his hold as he stripped her of her armour.
The Strahl - Year - 707
The warm water did nothing except wash the blood from her body. Fran sank to the bottom of the shower and curled up into a ball. She peered at her hands, the long claw fingers were still Viera, her pawed feet were still Viera, but inside was something else. Something horrible.
Life for her had no meaning any more as the sweet whisperings of the Wood stayed silent. Their songs had soothed and blessed her throughout her hundreds of years of life, but now in its place was a torrent and whirl of so many emotions that she just couldn't contain. She wept with choking cries, she howled with an anger that would surely have exploded her head and she trembled in agonising fear. This punishment from the wood was too much, why would they want to do something so severe after over fifty years? Why now?
"The blood's not stopping." Fran gazed down in horror at the blood still seeping from her body and mixing in with the water. She didn't understand why, from this aching cavity between her legs, the blood still flowed. "Stop it! Why won't it stop?!! Don't do this to me! Stop it now!! Stop bleeding!!!!"
"It won't Fran. At least…not yet."
Through the pouring shower water, Fran saw a small figure standing behind the fogged door. Fran pressed a hand against the glass and wiped the steamed water away. Penelo was on the other side, her own face red and wet with tears.
"It's going to carry on for a few more days." Penelo said, crouching down and pressing her hand against the glass, opposite Fran's. "Maybe a week. It all depends."
"Depends?!!" Fran screamed. "On what?!"
"On how the Wood changed you. They said you were hume on the inside…" Penelo allowed a very weak and understanding smile to drift on her lips. "That means having to put up with certain bodily functions that you wouldn't know about. This is one of them."
"It's horrible!!" Fran whacked the glass with her hand. When she saw it didn't break, her distress became even worse. As a Viera, that simple action would have shattered that door into pieces. "I'm weak!! I'm pathetic!! I don't feel myself!!! I don't want this bloody life!!! I can't bare it anymore!"
"Fran no!!" Penelo shook her head furiously. "Don't say things like that! This…what's happening to you is…is actually quite wonderful. It's what all Hume women go through…I do…Ashe does! It shows that we are capable of a wonderful and beautiful thing! We're capable of giving birth! Capable of starting new life! Having children! This is not something to make you want to die! Okay…it does hack you off something chronic, but to end your life? Fran, no! Don't think like that please!"
The water still fell. The Viera/Hume woman shied away from Penelo and sat under the shower with a disgusted look upon her face.
"Children?" The word was spat with bile from Fran's lips. "What use would I need with children?! I don't need them! I don't want them! I don't want this pain any more…everything is too quiet…I can't hear or even remember their songs anymore! There's nothing! Only HER!"
"Her?" Penelo didn't understand. Fran's change was horrifying to the young woman to see, for the Viera was always a centre of calm. She was a beautiful ethereal and graceful creature, who when she spoke, her words would sound so ripe and peaceful to the ear. This woman in the shower, was no Viera. It wasn't Fran and Penelo was beyond grief to see her friend like this.
"She's coming, Penelo." Fran rose to her feet and edged her face close to the glass. Her eyes were blazoning red. "She's awoken. Jote said that She was awake and the wood itself has reacted to this emergence! She will be angry, Penelo…angry at what this world has become and we will all suffer. No one has any need for children any more. She's coming! She's coming!!!!!!"
Fists pounded on the door. Penelo screamed and jumped back, slamming straight into the wall behind her. Fran continued to pummel at the glass, shouting and crying at the top of her voice, not caring in the slightest that she was terrifying poor Penelo. The young woman tried to find the door to the bathroom, but each booming pound on the shower glass caused her body to react with a fearing jerk.
When she eventually managed to pull the door open, Penelo rushed outside, straight into Balthier and Vaan. She lunged herself into Vaan's arms crying, though she didn't need to explain herself to any of the men as Fran's hysterical screams continued.
"Something's wrong with her, Balthier!" wept Penelo as Vaan still cradled her in his arms. "Something's so VERY wrong!!!"
As the young woman still cried, Vaan tried with all his might to calm her down. He stroked her hair, he kissed her cheek and tried to wipe the tears away, but in the end Fran had really shaken Penelo, so all he could do was take her back to the cabin and hold her. Vaan knew from the look on Balthier's face, that Fran was worrying him as well, so he left the Sky Pirate to help his partner.
Balthier walked into the bathroom, watching in horror as Fran kicked and pounded at the door. He thought her change would be difficult for her, but never to such an extent. He had thought after a few days, Fran would be by his side, fighting and pirating again. It wasn't going to be the case.
Baring to see her like that no longer, Balthier opened the shower door, the water drenching him as Fran lunged at him. Her claws dug into his arms and her frightening red eyes looked as if they too were bleeding.
"She is coming! She is awake!"
"Yes…you've said that…but who, Fran? Who was your sister talking about?"
"The First One. She who has been asleep for so many thousands of years. She is coming back to reclaim Ivalice."
"Does she have any documents of ownership?"
Fran cracked a fist to his face, a furied blow that caused blood to seep from his mouth.
"Okay…that was a poor joke and at the wrong time." Balthier wiped his mouth and then pulled Fran closer to him. He wrapped a towel around her, though she tried to rip at it with her claws. She was so agitated and scared, there was only one thing he could do now. No more jokes or witty remarks. He had to be there for her. His arms enveloped around Fran, Balthier held her tightly and rubbed the towel over her wet skin. The rage seemed to settle, she now only rocked in his arms, muttering and mumbling.
"Shescomingshescomingshescomingshescoming….."
Fran's warning was not important to him. Using a single finger, he tucked it under her chin and pushed her face up. She was still pale and ill, but to him, she was always beautiful. She would always be Viera to him. He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips. It was a brief but tender embrace, making Fran shiver even more for the experience. There was a small glimmer of happiness in her eyes when they pulled out from the kiss.
"No more words of this First one." said Balthier kissing her brow. "Not yet anyways. We have got to see you and Larsa well."
"It's doesn't matter." Fran muttered as he led her out of the bathroom. "We're all going to die any way, and it's all our fault."
Rabanastre Year 712
"Who are you? Where is mummy?"
Ashe turned at the sound of the little boy's voice behind her. The sight of him made her smile, she was pleased that he was safe, but at this moment, he was not her concern.
"I'm your mummy…don't you recognise me, Biran?"
The boy shook his head. He stood by the door, tall and poised and with a look of fierce determination on his face. Ashe didn't doubt for one second that his brother, Ronnah, was right behind him. Those two wouldn't go anywhere without each other.
"You are not our mother. Though…you look like her." Biran stepped forward in the room and when he approached the table, he saw the body lying there, bloodied and unmoving. "That man saved our lives…what are you doing with him?"
"I'm trying to save him, little one."
"But…" Biran was confused. "He's dead. Jiiryn told us he was."
Ashe almost wept inside, she almost burst out crying just to see him before her like this.
"He could continue to be so, little one. There are no magics known now that bring the dead back, unless you wanted zombies…the potion of the phoenix only works within seconds of death. But I can try what I know. I can try."
Biran, knew that the woman before him was not his mother, but she was. There was a holy light that seemed to glow in her eyes and her hands, as she lay them on the man's broken chest, pulsed with a dazzling bright light. He edged closer and climbed up on a step, so he was level with the dead man's face.
Biran carefully edged his hand out and touched the man's blonde hair.
"He's our hero." he muttered. "Heroes shouldn't die."