Author's note: Another chapter finished. Two points mainly…sorry Fran lovers, she's not in this one. Not intentional, I had so much I wanted to cram in…but I didn't want to make this too long. Also, I fear I may be going too OTT with my OCs. Please…if you review, let me know if it was too much.
Other than that…it's pretti much Basch and Ashe orientated. Bit more revealing, stronger language in places but please enjoy.
Don't own nuffin for FF12. Sadly.
Final Fantasy 12
TRUE FEELINGS
LOVE
What is love? Is it physical, pure sex and heated passion in the arms of another? Is it a bonding of souls and friendship, a connection that makes everything in the world make sense? Love can be many things, but what can you do when it is forbidden?
A love that can never be accepted by others is a difficult thing, do you stay away or incur the anger of the others by continuing no matter what they say? Consequences of love are rarely good when it is forbidden. You have to remain strong, you have to understand who else you can hurt with any action you take. It is never easy, whatever you decide.
Nalbina Fortress - Year 707
As her eyes opened, she swore that she could see sitting by the bed, a small child. Everything was a little groggy, so as Ashe rose from her lying position, she rubbed her eyes and took in the surroundings.
She was in a very lavish and beautiful bedroom, almost like her own back at Rabanastre. It was hued with delicate oranges, peach and yellows, made even more vibrant by the many flowers scattered about the room. A window allowed in the light, showering the room and giving it a more golden glow, and sitting in that sunlight, was definitely a child. A boy of maybe six years old…with jet black hair. Ashe couldn't make out his face.
"Who…?"
She was going to say who are you, but the sudden realization that she was naked under the bed sheets, stopped her in mid sentence and she hauled the soft silk covers over her breasts. Ashe felt a pang of embarrassment at revealing her self to the young boy, but the recollection of what happened on the ship caused a seething anger to jerk her to her senses.
"Where am I?!" she snapped. The boy didn't move from the blinding sun. She couldn't see his face, or the lack of innocence in his presence.
The child didn't respond. He sat there, swinging his legs and rocking his head from side to side, not caring for the woman's questions or angry insistence. Ignoring her, only made Ashe even more angry. She wrapped the bed sheet around her body and slipped gently onto the wooden floor.
"Who are you, child? Why am I here?! Answer me!!"
The boy began to hum. The tune seemed familiar, it was one Ashe herself had heard when she was a little girl. A rhyme, a lullaby? She couldn't recall it completely.
When she reached him, she stood in between him and the window, blocking the light from hiding his face. She shuddered. The boy too looked very familiar, but it was his dark black eyes gazing back at her that frightened Ashe.
There was something very wrong about him. She knelt down.
"Who are you? Do you have a name?"
The boy nodded, but then just shrugged his shoulders and carried on humming.
"Where are we?"
The little child held a finger up towards the window, indicating for the Queen to go and have a look. Tentatively she edged back and over to the sill. Looking out, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, Ashe made out the once great fortress of Nalbina. The beautiful towers, spires and domes were in ruins, the aftermath of the Archadian Imperial assault had laid waste to a glorious heritage. Ashe despaired to see such a place in ruins like this, but deep down, she also choked, this was the place of her father's death. He had been killed here…he had died alone….afraid….
"What are we doing here?" Ashe turned back to the boy, to see that he had already gotten to his feet and was now holding his hand out towards her. "You want me to go somewhere with you? I won't. Until either you or someone else starts telling me what is happening!"
The little out stretched hand didn't falter, it stayed awaiting Ashe's grasp, the boy's black eyes beckoning her to take hold. Ashe was going to stand by her words, so she never moved from the window sill. It became a waiting match, who would give in first, and the more and more Ashe caught the child's glare, the more she knew that she would eventually give in. A pressure, she couldn't describe was being applied, a little niggle at her brain, whispering, coaxing and tempting her.
His hand waved her over. She didn't even realise that she had reached out for him, her fingers just mere inches from his own. Why was she accepting this?
"I…I don't have any clothes." she said, looking at the white sheet around her.
The boy laughed and finally coiled his fingers around Ashe's. His skin was so cold, icy, but she couldn't let go as he dragged her over to the door.
"I can't go dressed like this!"
The door opened and before them stood four towering Imperial Judges waiting to escort them. They didn't acknowledge Ashe at all, they didn't utter a single word, the Judges only backed away from the door and allowed the young boy to lead the Queen down the corridor. Then they followed, their thundering boots booming on the stone floor, the clanking metal of their armour scraping as they strode behind. Ashe felt so exposed and vulnerable, why couldn't they have at least given her something warm to wear?
So many questions entered her mind, as the boy took her through the corridors of the fortress and down towards the depths of the dungeons. As she received no reply at all for her concerns, one was the most foremost in her thoughts.
Basch. Is he all right?
The journey was long, they encountered no one else in the dark halls and with every step, the knot of dread in Ashe's stomach twisted inside her. She realised they were going to the dungeons, the very place she knew Basch had been held for two years and she didn't want to believe that he was once again back in his same cell. If this notion upset her, Ashe couldn't bare to think of how Basch was feeling by being in chains again. Hadn't he suffered enough?
Sure enough, after enduring the chills of the fortress, Ashe was lead to the huge stone doors that shut off a section of the dungeons away from the main hold. Standing by them were two mage imperials, preparing to utter their incantations to lift the mystic barrier, but on upon their approach, the mages stopped and stepped aside for the young boy.
He had held her hand the entire way down, the skins of their palms stuck together through the icy touch, and when he pulled away, she felt a layer tear from her fingers.
"Ow!"
The boy ignored her and approached the mystic doors. He simply held out both hands and pressed them against the purple and blue ebbing force. If anyone else had done this, the power behind the barrier would have thrown them back with such ferocity that it would have resulted in some limbs or extremities being broken on impact with the floor. The six year old said nothing, the barrier didn't react harshly to his contact, instead it flowed away like a fog and opened the doors.
"Who the hell are you?!" Ashe shouted, pulling the sheet tighter around her body. The boy looked back at her and smiled. He then proceeded to enter the prison, whereas Ashe received a shove from one of the Judges. "Don't you dare touch me!!"
"Move!" said the Judge Magister. "Majesty."
Her feet felt numb as she walked in, her teeth where chattering, goose pimples flared up on her skin and her breasts began to ache at such freezing conditions. Ashe didn't want to go in or to even think about how she would see him, yet the line of Judges behind her were not giving her the option to walk away.
Ashe tried not to look ahead at the round pit that was in the centre of the room. She didn't want to gaze upon the long cage that dangled over its edge or the man chained to it's bars, but she had to when she was lead right to the edge of the pit. Ashe cried out.
"BASCH!"
Sure enough, the Knight was once again in his prison cage, his hands cuffed to the bars at the top and his ankles bound to the floor. He was completely naked, his head was drooped over his bare chest and his body was covered in scars, he seemed to be made of them. The previous two years spent in here had taken a toll on his body, reduced it to nothing but feeble bones and weak skin, but he didn't look like that now. He had bulked up since, toned his physique and despite the cold, he was well endowed in every way. Basch's body was full and muscular, slick with sweat and occasionally he would jerk from a sedated nightmare, shaking the cage.
"Welcome Lord." Another Judge, one in black amour blazoned with more red, came from out of nowhere and stood close to Ashe's side . "As requested, Captain Basch has been kept unconscious for all this time. We shall begin the tests as soon as possible."
"Basch!" Asheila touched the side of his cage. "Basch! Wake up!"
The Judge laughed but he then addressed the little boy.
"My lord…have you noticed anything about the woman? Has she showed signs of…?"
"RELEASE HIM NOW!!!!!"
A great gust of wind ripped throughout the prison as Ashe spun round to face the captures. The sheet fell from her shoulders and her whole body blazed with a searing glow. A powerful force swept all the Judges off their feet and threw them across the cavern. Her eyes blazed with white fire, a black deadly shadow displayed across her face and in her hands, a power of holy magic was breaking through her palms. Great pulses of white energy coursed from her skin and impacted like fire flames to each of them, causing the Judges to scream in agony.
In seconds, her onslaught was brought to an end, when a sharp needle jabbed into her thigh. The light in her eyes vanished, her powers faded and Ashe slumped to the floor.
"I think this answers our question." said the High Judge as he crawled onto his knees.
The little boy knelt down next to the queen's sedated body and frowned. The syringe fell from his fingers as he took the fallen sheet and draped it over her body.
"Mother won't like this at all." he said as he delicately pushed her hair out of her face.
"The plans have changed once again." said the Judge and with a wave of his hand, signalled one of the others to pick up Ashe. "But I am sure your mother and her advisor will come up with something to help you. Keep the faith, Lord."
"I don't need it." said the boy. "I don't need to hope or pray. I know what will happen. The queen and her knight will give me their gifts over their dead bodies."
Rabanastre - Year 707
Danver had reached back at the palace only a day after Ashe had left to go Bhujerba. The Garif who had escorted him safely back didn't hang around for any pleasantries or greetings, as they found the city and its crowded streets "unnerving." The place didn't feel right for them, so once they saw Danver safe, they bid their farewells and travelled back through Giza and to Jagd.
So whilst the Queen and Basch were held in Nalbina, Ardal was taken to the council chambers, where Talven explained what had happened. He barely listened, fatigued and worn from his journey back, Danver could only think of Ashe. He had been abandoned by her in Jahara and he couldn't help but feel hurt by her actions. She had explained to him that she needed to help Basch, and Danver understood that, but to wake in the morning and find her gone…with him…didn't help his anxiety for her safety or the pang of jealousy he felt. But doubt always nagged his mind. So too did the ramblings of the council. He was weary of their petty arguing.
"Are we finished?" he heard himself mutter. The council room went silent.
"I'm SORRY?" Talven cried.
"Are we finished?" the young man said again. "I'm tired, I ache and I need to get some sleep."
"But…but…Queen Asheila! The wedding! Aren't you in the slightest bit concerned that she's wandered off on yet another dangerous charade?!"
"I am concerned! But I can't do anything myself right now. You are the Head of the council, do what you can to protect the Queen." said Danver. "Talk to Ondore…ask him to send an escort along with Ashe. Discuss with him anything that might help the queen's mission to be less precarious."
"And the wedding?" piqued up another council member.
"Oh, don't stop the wedding preparations…it will go ahead. Just…not now."
Ardal was not going to hang around to hear more rants. The few days out on the plains with the Garif had drained him, so he walked over to the door and exited the council chambers, leaving all the other men in an uproar.
He almost walked straight into the woman. Her head was bowed, long black hair covering most of her face, but not the eager smile displayed on her lips.
"Oh!" Danver had not expected to see her standing so close to the doors. Had she been listening?
"My lord…a word?" asked Lady Arla.
"Of course…walk with me. I actually wanted to ask you something."
Arla lifted her head. There was a glint of amusement in her eye as she stepped along side the soon to be prince regent.
It was late in the evening, the sun was disappearing behind the high palace walls, wondrous reds, oranges and yellows bathed the courtyards, and the many Landis Asheila flowers that wound along and up the walls seemed to bloom even more radiantly in this evening twilight.
"So how can I help you, Lady Arla?" asked Danver, as he walked tall and straight with his hands held behind his back.
"I am merely asking as to what will happen to Asheila. Are you not going to Bhujerba to join her?"
"No. I will remain here." Danver sighed. "Ashe said her mission could be dangerous, she went prepared as a fighter and I have had more than my fair share of fiends on the Giza plains these past few days. I think that's why she left me in Jahara."
"She does what she wants. She is rash and fiery at times." Arla rested a gentle hand on Danver's shoulder. "Don't take it personally."
"I try not to….it's difficult. Especially when she's gone off with this Judge Gabranth."
"I worry about that too. They hardly know each other. I'm suspecting this Judge has an ulterior motive by accompanying the queen. I am suspicious of him. But…you wanted to ask me something, Lord?"
"Aye." Danver paused. They had come to one of the many gardens in the palace. This was a small maze of flowerbeds, each holding bright coloured plants from all over Dalmasca. There was a bench in the centre and he beckoned for Arla to sit with him. "I know you have been in the Queen's service for a long time."
"I was Amalia's Lady In Waiting. So yes."
"I was curious as to…well I've heard stories about him and I wondered if…"
"Lord?"
"About Captain Basch Fon Ronsenberg. What was he really like?"
The change in Arla was immediate. Her jaw stiffened, her eyes widened in angered fury and her whole body tensed. If it had been possible, Arla's normally pale complexion whitened even more.
"Don't mention that traitor's name to me!" her voice was trying to be angry, but there was a tone of such grief. "He's DEAD! Dead for killing the king and I hope he rots in hell! I won't speak any more of him!!"
Danver wasn't surprised at her reaction, for he too had boiled in hate at seeing the face of the man who killed Raminas. Ashe had told him about what had really happened, that his twin was responsible. He knew Basch was alive, but he didn't know anything about what kind of man he was. Ashe was obviously loyal to him as he was to her…but who was he?
"I only spoke of him, because Asheila has been talking about him recently. A lot."
Arla scoffed a disgusted laugh.
"About how he suffered at his death, I hope." Arla seethed. She rose from the bench, Danver noted that her hands shaking. There was an inner turmoil in this woman, a battle of feelings and raw emotions about this man was in fierce conflict. Arla took in a deep breath and exhaled a racking sigh. "How she wished she could have been there to see him pay for her father's death." Arla eventually spoke, kneeling by the flower bed of lilies and stroking the petals. "Never had I seen her grieve so much at his betrayal, a madness and anger consumed her, some people said more so than the death of her father."
"She liked him…that much?" Danver asked, feeling the jealousy sickening his stomach.
"Boy…he was her protector, a knight of the Order and supposedly a loyal subject of Dalmasca. A man in such a position would have been any young woman's fantasy. He was hers. First love, first crush… she was dotted on him. Everyone was."
Danver noticed she left out the "even me."
"I had met him once." he said, "In Bhujerba…he was escorting Ashe to a party hosted by her uncle. No one spoke bad of him, so why did he turn traitor? What made him commit such a heinous act?"
"Too late to ask him now." Arla said, as her finger traced down the lily's stem. Her fingers rested on the delicate stem for a moment and then she yanked it harshly from the ground. "He's dead. I'm glad of it. So too is Asheila. Though I would not have her continue to speak of him. Her breath is wasted on the bastard."
"Did…did she…" Danver stuttered as the words choked in his throat. "Did she love him?"
He had to know. He just had to. Danver couldn't bare it if she did, especially since she was now off with him on some adventure, fighting side by side with him, defending each other…being there for each other.
When Ashe had agreed to marry him, it had been the happiest moment of his life, for Ardal Danver loved her more than he knew how to. He thought he had comforted her through her grief over Rassler, but now all that Ardal could see, was Basch comforting her more…with his strong arms, his soft deep soothing words…jealousy was now more than just a small insecure feeling. It was a hurricane roaring inside his chest and ripping it apart.
"Foolishly so." Arla replied. "But he did not return those feelings. Ashe holds nothing for him now. Only contempt."
That did nothing to ease Danver's crushing despair. Ashe still loved Basch, he realised that by seeing the way she spoke of him and the way she looked at him.
"And you, My lord?" Arla smirked a little smile. "Do you still hate the man who slaughtered Dalmasca's beloved sovereign?"
"He is a good man. I see that now."
Danver had heard all Ashe had to say about Basch Fon Ronsenberg. Never did he imagine that she would say those things with her love still fuelling her inside. She was supposed to be a Queen, royalty, remaining loyal to her Knight with honour, not still clinging to some hopeless love. How could Danver be any kind of husband to her, if he knew that she loved someone else?
"He is supposed to be dead. If people knew that Basch lived it could incite distrust and anger. Everything will be lost."
Did she really believe that? Danver couldn't. His mind was jumbled by hatred and jealousy, conflicting with his love and passion, for he didn't think Ashe would do this to him.
But what would forbidden love do to anyone?
"What would you say…if I told you Captain Basch lived?"
Ardal Danver, a man of Bhujerba, a respected man and who held high integrity of character, had uttered the words that would be his own downfall.
Arla glared up at the sky as an all too familiar sight of the Strahl glided over the palace spires. She grinned a menacing smile. What would she say?
Nalbina Fortress - Year 704
He ran with all his might. His arms were pumping with every ounce of his strength and despite the searing stitching pain in his sides, he never stopped or slowed. All of Dalmasca depended on him, they needed him to get to the King and see him safe. As much as he hated to leave young Reks alone to defeat the guards, Basch urged himself on. His heart was pumping madly, his blood was rushing, sweat drenched him and adrenalin soared through his body. His thoughts cried out for Vossler. Where was he?! He should be here!
Basch came to the doors of the throne room and he wasted no time in forcing them open with a loud booming crash. He staggered in and the sight before him, made him turn stone cold.
"Hello, brother."
It was him. He was exactly like him, same armour, same hair and beard…his voice…
Noah.
A mirror image of him, standing before the rest of his startled squad and Raminas. All of Basch's men that had survived the assault on Nalbina were now pinned by Imperials, swords or knives at their necks, ready to slice their skin and spill their blood. Basch couldn't believe it. His twin was here, holding aloft a sword and pinning it straight to the neck of the man Basch had sworn to protect. Basch went to rush to Ramina's aid, but several Imperial guards came from behind him and grabbed his arms. They threw him to the ground and dragged him on his knees towards his sibling.
No! No!! This can't be happening!!!
"So it comes down to this." Noah hissed. "This is your payback! This is the result of your cowardice, my dear darling brother!!"
"Don't do this!!" Basch cried, receiving a jolt across his jaw. Something cracked, blood filled his mouth. "Don't become a murderer! It's not you!"
"How the fuck do you know what I am?!!!!" Noah screamed, the blade of his sword nicking Ramina's neck. The old man whimpered, his frail weary hand clasped at the blood trickling wound. "YOU have made me into this! Your feeble, weak and cowardly acts have done this all to me!!! Archadia has replenished Landis…I've seen it's beauty restored by such order! Now all there is, is for those deserters to suffer for their lack of action! Basch…you will suffer. This is all your doing."
Bedlam reverberated around the halls. Sounds of conflict and battle cries echoed from beyond and Basch could have sworn he heard Vossler through the mayhem. Yet Basch could not tear his gaze away from the King's. Raminas was in fear for his life, he was crying, tears flowed down his wrinkled cheeks, his elderly body was shaking, trembling…so afraid.
"Captain!!"
"My liege!!" Basch's voice was hoarse with desperation and remorse. "I'm…I'm trying!"
"Asheila….my daughter!!!" the old man sobbed. "She must be kept safe!"
A hand grabbed at Basch's hair and tore his head back and then by his locks he was dragged to the far side of the room. He cried, he roared in pain and protest as he was dumped in the shadows. A hand clasped over his mouth and he was forced to watch as Raminas was pushed into the throne.
"Vayne won't have Dalmasca!!" yelled the King.
Noah!! Don't do this! PLEASE! Don't do this!!!
He saw the doubt in his eyes. The second Noah held up his sword, Basch saw the hesitation and frailty within his twin. There was still good within him, but the hatred bore out. So much anger and bitterness had consumed his brother that Basch couldn't do anything as Noah plunged the sword right through the old man's gut. The blood spewed from the thrust, spattering along the sword hilt and over Noah's arms.
NO!!!!!!!! Basch tried to scream, he tried to pull himself free, with all his strength, with every core of his being he tried to wrench himself out of the hold and get to his king. Yet it was all in vain, Raminas was speared, blood drenched his robes, he slumped in the throne.
Noah stood above him, both hands on the hilt of the sword, pushing it deeper into the corpse, crunching bone. He pushed and pushed the blade in and through, until there was no movement or gurgling bloodied breath. The King of Dalmasca was slain.
"No witnesses." said a cold dark voice.
NOAH!!!!
A squelching rip sounded as the sword was withdrawn from the body of the king. Basch, attempted to react, tried to pry himself from the hold that kept him pinned, but they battered him down, they beat him until he coughed and spluttered on the ground. Then the guards wrenched his head up to witness Noah tending to every man of his squad. Basch was forced to watch as each brave and loyal subject was sliced opened by his brother. As the red crimson fluid doused Noah, every life he took, Basch saw in his eyes the anguish beneath the anger and the remorse at his actions.
The bodies fell to the floor, leaving Noah surrounded by his victims. He looked round at what he had done and then at the blood that had stained his hands. Basch didn't want to believe what he had seen, or that his brother had been capable of such a cold act, but every part of him ached from his beating and the angst for his brother made the pain so much worse. He felt weak, just as he had done all those years ago in Landis, Basch could no longer struggle. He had no strength left.
"Someone's coming, lord!" cried a soldier near the door.
Noah was broken from his trance amongst the dead, his frowning brow eased and a smile (hollow and empty) came to his lips. He signalled for the soldiers to take up hiding positions within the shadows, and Noah himself strolled over to where Basch was shaking on the floor.
"Your crimes are just piling up, brother." said Noah, as he held his sword ready to fight. "The murder of the king would surely mean penalty of death for you…what more could be done to you that would despair you so?"
The doors were slowly pushed open and when Basch looked up, he saw Reks come to a halt in the centre of the room, scared and horrified at the scene before him. Basch attempted to move, he screamed with what little might he had left, but his gagged mouth only let out a muffled whine.
No. No, please god no!. Run Reks! Get out of here!
It was too late. Noah moved with such swiftness that as the young boy turned, very little effort was needed to pierce the weapon right through his stomach.
"Captain?!" Reks stared up at Noah, his eyes glazing over with such betrayal and confusion. His breath choked and gasped splatters of blood. "Why? Our king…what have you done?"
The same question reeled inside Noah's mind, but his hatred justified it all as he gazed over to where his brother was being bound. Basch would get the blame, he would suffer. But so too would Noah.
Reks' body fell to the floor with a thud.
Ivalice - Year 707
Did anyone notice the change in the air? Slowly, like a drifting fog, the warmth of the sky was doused with bitter cold. This was the oncoming storm, bringing with it a fury not known since the Great Beginning. All the ancient creatures in the word felt Her presence finally stirring, becoming coherent as sleep wore off. They recoiled, they hid in fear…they knew who She was and with her anger, the end of the world would surely follow.
Rabanastre - Year 707
The voices were worried. Something had gone horribly wrong and they were so scared. Well, she was. Her sweet voice sounded above the others, woeful and tearful and so full of compassion. It was so sad. He wanted to move and hold her hand, give her the assurance she needed, tell her that everything would be okay. He felt tears coming down from his own eyes, so he opened them.
Sure enough, Penelo was standing right by his side, her ashen face surprisingly strong with confident resolve. Next to her was Vaan conversing with a Healer, but there was no sign of Balthier or Fran. Larsa felt hot and dazed, he couldn't recall what had happened in Golomore, he only remembered the drooling snarling teeth of a panther, mere inches from his face.
"You're awake!!" Penelo cried, sitting down next to him on the bed and taking his hands. "Are you…okay?"
She frowned, though Larsa didn't understand what was wrong with that question.
"A little dry." he croaked. "Hot…tired…but I am fine, thank you Penelo."
"I have some water for you." Penelo picked up a glass from the table next to him, but she jerked so suddenly as Larsa tried to haul himself up into a sitting position. "Don't move!! I can help you!"
"Don't fuss, Penelo…I'm fine!"
He didn't notice. Penelo handed him the water with a shaking hand. The Emperor took the glass but with his free hand clasped the young woman's fingers and steadied them with a comforting squeeze.
"He hasn't noticed. He doesn't know!!"
"Is everyone else all right?" asked Larsa, after he took a small sip of the water. "No one else was injured? Fran? How is she?"
"She's changed, Larsa." Penelo stammered. "The wood altered her body…she's part Hume now. Fran is in shock, she's not taking the change well, but Balthier is with her. The rest of us are fine…but…"
She couldn't find the words, how could she say to him that he had lost his leg? Penelo wanted him to look for himself, to spare her the burden of telling him. Why didn't he look?
"He should rest some more." said the Healer. "His guard are wanting to see him, but I think we all should just let him be."
"Stop this fussing! It is not necessary!" ordered Larsa. "I'm okay! If Gabranth wants to come in, then let him do so. He is back…isn't he?"
"Er…" Vaan stood behind Penelo, he placed one hand on her shoulder and the other scratched at the back of his head. "He's not here. He and Ashe went on to find out who was behind her attack. He might not be back for some time. I'll stay here though. Me and Penelo. Whatever you need…we'll be here for you."
Now Larsa was starting to worry. Whatever had gone wrong, it had gone wrong with him. Penelo's anguish was plain to see and if he read Vaan's irritating manner of scratching his head correctly, then the young man was feeling very guilty about something.
He tore his gaze away from the two teens and looked down at his hands and his arms, before pulling back the sheets a little and checking his body. There were small signs of some wounds, but nothing really serious. There was no blotching or discolouring of his skin from poison or disease and even his leg was fine.
Leg. There was only one. Why was there only one? What happened to his other limb?
"Erm…" there was a painful lump in his throat. "Er….I appear to be missing a leg. Where is it?"
Neither of them could respond. Neither of them knew really what happened during the battle and how this injury had occurred, but the calm with which the Emperor of Archadia spoke of his missing leg worried everyone. Penelo was biting her lip, forcing her tears back and trying to be strong. Her mouth opened to speak, but she could not.
"Excellency." The Healer came forward. "I am sorry, but there is nothing we can do further. The limb is lost and no magics can grow it back. We can arrange for you to be taken back to Archades if you wish…but I would recommend you remain here for a few more days…the shock of such a…"
"Thank you, Healer." Larsa held a hand up to silence him. "As there is nothing you can do for me now, your services and presence here is no longer required. Leave."
The old man stuttered and jabbered at such a request, but when he knew there was no changing the Emperor's mind, he bowed his head and walked out. The silence remaining was cold and harsh. Penelo saw that Larsa had gone pale again, his glazed eyes wouldn't stop starring at his stump, the shock and anger was setting in once again. His pulled his hands away from Penelo as she tried to come closer.
"Larsa…" She breathed his name barely. "We're here for you….please….let us help."
"One thing." the young boy replied, strained. "There is only one thing you can do for me now."
"Anything!"
"Get Basch back." A single tear streamed down his face, though his voice strong. "I require his council."
"But…but…" Vaan shook his head. "We don't know where he is!"
"Then, let us look, shall we?"
Vaan looked round and leaning against the door frame, Balthier smiled, stroking his beard lovingly. His expression was one of devious cunning, no doubt a plan of some kind already forming in his mind. He briefly played with some of his rings on his fingers before strolling in and right up to Larsa's bedside. The sincerity and genuine compassion showed in his dark eyes as he looked down at the Emperor.
"My apologies, Lord Larsa. We will get Basch back for you and let us hope his words of comfort can help your fears. You did what you could to help Fran…I'm deeply grateful…and now I will repay that kind act by hauling Judge Grouchy Knickers back to your side."
Was that a smile just teetering on the edge of the boy's lips? Balthier hoped so.
"We're heading to Bhujerba first." said the pirate. "We're taking Fran, I'm hoping that she will find comfort in the sky…let's go Vaan."
"No." Larsa stated sternly. "Vaan stays here with me."
Penelo thought she had been smacked round the face. She had been by his side ever since they got to Rabanastre, why would she leave him now? He wouldn't look at her. The young boy wasn't acknowledging her pleading gaze to stay with him, he didn't even want to touch her.
"Larsa…" She tried to reach for his fingers, but he whipped his hand away and placed it gently beneath the sheets.
"Go. Just bloody go."
"How….how could you…?" Penelo was rooted to the spot. She knew that Larsa was now beginning to understand how his life was changed. Shock and trauma overwhelmed him, it was expected for him to be angry, but at her? Never had he spoken to her in such a horrid manner. Penelo couldn't feel her own feet, she couldn't feel anything except the rapid pounding of her heart.
"It's okay. Let's go, Penelo." Balthier pulled her away, though she felt like a lead weight refusing to budge. "Vaan will look after him."
"I will, Pen." Vaan flashed her a smile. "I promise. Take care of Fran and go and bring Basch back here. We'll be…okay. I guess."
Such uncertainty didn't exactly give Penelo any confidence or relieve her anxieties, but eventually she went with Balthier and closed the door behind her.
As soon as she was gone and as soon as Larsa was sure she was out of earshot, his hand reached out for the glass of water. He starred deep into the clear , only to see a marred disfigured sight of his stump through the glass. Larsa screamed and threw it across the room with all his might.
The glass shattered against the wall and lay in pieces on the floor. Just like his future.
The Great Crystal Year 706
She had been in battle, with Vaan and Balthier. They had all been standing before the angry Esper, Ashe with her sword poised and ready to strike another blow. Battered and bloodied, the two men who had accompanied her were on the ground, Vaan clutching at his side and Balthier desperately trying to pull his dislocated shoulder back in place. There was no magic available here, Ashe couldn't use her spells to heal her friends, but all she could do was try and end it.
She had a gash on her forehead which had filled her eyes with blood. A few of her ribs were cracked and her fighting arm had a broken wrist. Ashe didn't know if she had the strength to finish this.
"Basch…where are you?!"
Ultima approached. The female form above Ashe was like all the legends had described. Tales told that she had been a creature of amazing light, an angel with radiance and grace, a being capable of such love and compassion. Ultima, thought to be so gentle, warm and holy, was the one who raged against the gods. She was the one who waged war and was punished for it.
Ashe found her to be beautiful in a twisted malformed way, her skin was as black as ebony, the long white dress flowing over her shapely form was edged with gold and stained with deep black blood from her wounds. Six great orange feathered wings that grew from her back, stretched across the chamber, but some of those were snapped and broken. Her hair was dull and grey and fell down past her shoulders, small white feathered wings protruded from either side of her head, these flittered and fanned almost like ears, but they were ripped and torn, dripping with blood.
Ashe could only wonder as to what this being used to be like. On her black face there was a look of disgust and hatred, accumulated over so many years of rotting away in her eternal prison. This wasn't an angel of love or mercy now.
Die.
The word wasn't spoken. Ashe didn't even hear it in her head, no telepathy, no recording device or communication system was used, she felt it. Not the word, but the intent and the revulsion, the feeling behind it all. It was a strange sensation for Ashe. The lips on the Esper never moved, though Ultima had managed to get across her wants without any form of language or speech and Ashe understood all too clearly.
"If you wish to."
Ultima coiled back. A breeze hissed harshly through the chamber, ripping at Ashe's hair and tearing her clothes. Spoken word disgusted the creature. In a single fluid movement, the Esper rushed up to Ashe, Her face mere inches from the Hume's. Ultima bared sharp pointed teeth, blackened spit gushing from her mouth.
No! YOU will die. Everyone will. Why should any of you vermin live?
Ashe hunched up at the Esper's vile onslaught. She crumbled to the floor, her breathing stabbing with pain. She didn't have the strength to finally defeat this creature. Her sword dropped from her fingers and Ashe uttered a small prayer in her mind.
"Basch…where are you?! Get here soon…please…hurry!"
"Did you not use to give mercy?" Ashe murmured, hugging her broken wrist to her chest. "Did you not once feel compassion?"
Those are of no use to me now. They don't exist, only suffering, hurt and despair. I have endured it for so long, why should I allow others to feel it? No your life ends here now.
Ashe waited for the final blow, for the fallen angel to finally end her life. But it never came.
You are free. How is this possible? How is it that you now reside in this lower form?
"We can be together. Limited, confined still, but you feel it too. It is possible for us."
They are beneath us…they won't be able to control our power. They can't hope to contain us when we finally seek revenge.
He smiled and held out his hand. It touched the blackened fingers with a loving caress and she trembled at the contact.
"Accept this…give in to this and we can get back all that was taken from us. All the years we have lost, can be ours once again."
I have wept to be without you. I've decayed and rotted, but never have I become weak. I will do this, for us and for Ivalice. The gods will pay. SHE will suffer in our place!
She allowed the sword to plunge into her chest. She finally accepted this defeat and allowed her soul to be bound to the glyph. She felt the Hume's hands curling round the angles of the crystal, the warmth from her skin and then the crushing pressure breaking her into pieces. Oblivion didn't come.
A sight from behind Hume eyes was of the other. The one who held her companion, her love. Yet these Humes were stronger than She had ever thought. They wouldn't give into the Esper's desires, they couldn't even give into their own.
Nalbina Fortress - Year 707
It was time. The imperial and his partner walked up to the cage and checked over the prisoner. He still didn't move, there was no screaming or crying, he was still. So very still.
"Erggh! Couldn't they have least…covered him up?" asked his partner as he took out the small case from his pouch. "It's…unnerving having to look at him like that."
"Well don't look! Just get the sedative and stick it to him. You know what they said. He must never be allowed to gain consciousness."
The imperial took the case and clipped it open. He took from inside, the small glass syringe and checked the contents of the vial with it. They still had plenty left, enough to keep this man doused for another couple of days, if they wanted to. Though he wasn't sure exactly why they were keeping this man. Wasn't he supposed to be dead?
He filled the syringe just as he thought of what it would be like to stick the needle right through the prisoner's head. It was tempting, but instead he approached the cage and prepared to stab the needle into the man's neck.
Something was wrong.
"It's a bit warm in here. Isn't it?" asked his partner. "I'm sweating like crazy!"
It was warm. Heat was radiating from somewhere. The imperial thought it was coming from the pit, leading from Barheim passage, but as he focused on the needle, he noticed it was coming from the prisoner.
The light was suddenly sucked from the room, all lanterns and torches were extinguished and a loud rumbling shook the very foundations of the prison. Walls crumbled, ceilings cracked and the floor beneath their feet broke.
"It's an Earthquake!!" cried his partner.
No. It was much worse.
"Oh SHIT! He's awake!!!"
Through the darkness, there was something blacker. Two angry eyes gazed back at the soldiers, before an explosion ripped the cage apart. A curved wall of iron bars was sent flying, impacting the guards and breaking their fragile bodies as they slammed into the stone wall. The bars fell from them, their still living forms thrashed and gasped on the ground, disfigured from broken bones, bloodied from gaping wounds.
He walked past them, blazing with all the dark magics around his naked body, neither caring for their pain or death. He was the Keeper. He was justice and law now, and those who would stand in his way would pay dearly.
Rabanastre -Year …..
Hate. Hate. Searing wrenching hate. It filled him, twisted him and fuelled him. Yet why was he not able to carry out his task? He couldn't move from his position, the knife was shaking in his hand and his eyes wouldn't tear away from the sleeping couple.
"Call out." his hate goaded him. "Call for everyone to see what fucking hypocrites and liars they are. Ruin her. Ruin them both for their putrid stinking love."
He couldn't bring himself to do it, for even in the arms of another, she was beautiful. She was happy with him, with her hand resting on his chest, her legs hooked around his, their bodies pressed so tightly together they merged almost as if they were one.
"Do it! It's the only way! Take the knife and do them both!"
Not her. Never her.
"Then kill the bastard who took her away from you! It's all he EVER deserved!"
The hate found new strength in him. He gripped the knife tightly and stepped out of the shadows.