Happy New Year folks! Hope youse all had a jolly time! I know I did! I have been away, so I wasn't able to get this chapter done as quickly. But….I am quite pleased with this one and I have only had to amend it a couple of times rather than the 600 times I normally do before I put this on. (That's saying something!) However, as usual, I'm sure I've missed some mistakes…for which I apologise…I do try…but fate is such a bee-hatch like that. It's only after I've put it on the net I notice the little boo boos I've made.

There are some very emotional parts in this one….and I could not be more proud than I am of the last paragraph. I cried whilst writing it. I hope it will provoke the same in you all. As always guys, review.

Detailed reviews for this chapter…will be really appreciated. Please. Xxxx

Final Fantasy 12

TRUE FEELINGS

WANT

Wanting can be dangerous. To, deep down within you, scream and cry for something so much, it could only lead to trouble or terrible disappointment. Want, desire and crave…for love? Money? Possession and power? Is there any kind of end to what people want? No one is ever content, no matter what they say. Want can be a powerful thing, a source of hope and goodness, yet it can make you twisted and bitter. Some even want death.

Be careful what you wish for. Be careful with what you want. It might come true.

Ivalice

There was panic and chaos all over Ivalice. People were in fear for their very lives, reeling at the anger that hung in the air like a thick heavy fog. Some embraced it, using that anger to carry out acts of vandalism, robbery, fighting and murder. It was complete anarchy.

In Archades, despite some of the Imperial guards trying to maintain order, people rioted, those who had fallen to the old crumpled city now forced their way up through the higher gleaming levels of the rich and ran through the streets. Some gentries retaliated, only causing more trouble for the guards and law officers who tried to quell it. The same happened in the prosperous cities of Rozzaria and in the floating cities…everywhere from Dalmasca to Balfonheim, people died and hurt from the darkness taking over their world. Leaders announced to their people to remain calm, they offered up words of assurance and hope, such words dousing if only a portion of the chaos that devastated their lives. Even in the small nomadic camps such as the ones in Phon and the Dalmascan Westersand, Elders gathered their families and kin around to provide comfort. Though with one, fears only escalated from a couple who had brought with them nothing but death in their wake.

Mosphoran Wasteland Year 707

"HELP HIM! PLEASE! HE'S DYING!"

The folds of the tent were lashed open suddenly, but Asheila didn't take her eyes off Basch as he continued to thrash and jerk horribly on the bed. His whole body was red with fever and his breaths were choking and spluttering. Tears screamed down Ashe's face, her own hands and body trembling to see him like this, but when she saw a pair of long clawed hands rest on his chest, she looked up.

A Viera woman, dressed unusually for one of her kind, was bent over Basch and muttering something under her breath. No one else had come in, but Ashe didn't care as long as this Viera helped Basch.

"Hold him." said the Viera, who looked quite pale and was marked with great fatigue and ware. Ashe tried to, she wanted to but the seizure was getting worse and Basch's body was taking such strain that she thought something would break. She could see the muscles in his neck pulling back and tensing so much they would snap if he kept this up. Ashe couldn't touch him, she feared she would hurt him more. "HOLD HIM!" The Viera barked an order. "The being inside of him is not listening! The two of them are fighting so much that neither will listen! You must calm him! Calm them both!"

Ashe grabbed hold of Basch's shoulders. The heat from his fever felt as if it was scorching her hands, but she felt something more. Basch was angry and he was in pain from the onslaught of Zodiark's insistent rage. She could sense the conflict between them, the Esper winning out over Basch as he tortured his body. Ashe felt herself get angry. Or was that Ultima? Dammit! Why couldn't she determine her own feelings now?!!

"Tell them, majesty…." The Viera, who was now by Basch's still juddering head, was trying hard not to be hit by his frothing spit. "Tell them both to stop. As you would to a child!"

"But he's not a child!" Ashe cried.

"YES! HE is! Tell him!"

Her jaw dropped, but no words came out. The worry and sheer terror wouldn't fade away, she couldn't keep calm herself let alone tell the others to. There was a horrible stabbing sensation in her heart, anger at being so helpless and distraught that she was useless.

"Tell them, your majesty…or this fit will kill him."

"I…I…" Ashe couldn't bare it any more, the tears still streamed down her face and her hands, as they forced Basch down, were beginning to lose their strength. "I….STOP IT NOW!"

She didn't know she had cried out like that. Ashe never heard her speak the words, but she saw the after effect. The seizure stopped suddenly and Basch looked directly at her with black orbed eyes and foam still spewing from his mouth. At first there was anger and hatred in his stare, but then, to Ashe's surprise, a very child like and sorrowful pout looked back at her. If Basch's fit hadn't been so terrifying to look at, Ashe would have considered such a childish pose on the older man's face to be hilarious. An upset and adolescent gawp on a thirty seven year old was strange indeed, but relief washed over the queen to see him free from pain. Her hands no longer forced him down, instead they gently caressed his skin with soothing fingertips.

"Where am I?"

The voice was Basch's, but not. An alien and echoing tone whispered those words and she knew it wasn't her knight that spoke, rather the Esper inside of him.

"You are in Mosphoran." said the Viera. "You are in my camp. Why did you foolishly injure this Hume's body?"

"He wouldn't listen! He wouldn't let me do what I wanted! The man is fool to think he can fight me!"

Ashe couldn't say anything. As the Viera draped a sheet over Basch's naked form, the Queen just knelt beside him, fretting at hearing this creature speak through his lips. Did she sound like this when Ultima surfaced? Would the Seraph ever do this do her, if she didn't listen? What had she and Basch so insanely let themselves in for? They should never had allowed this to happen.

"We want to speak to Captain Basch." said the Viera. "Let the Hume take control."

"No! Not until I have done what I need! The First is going to pay!"

The Viera had been right. This was a child speaking, a mere teen frustrated and angry at not getting his own way, throwing a tantrum and taking it out on Basch.

"Let us speak to him!"

With a defiant front, Basch or indeed Zodiark, fobbed a mouthful of spit straight at the Viera, baring his teeth in seething rage. The sputum hit the Viera's face and she coiled back in disgust, but it only caused Ashe to move round and lean over and close to Basch's face. The angry response vanished and was replaced by awe and infatuation. Deep down, Ashe felt something just as strong react towards him. Again she didn't know if it was her or the Esper sharing her body, the confusion was like a foggy cloud on her mind, like the drugs that had sedated her earlier.

"You will let me speak to him! NOW!" There was no falter in her voice, Ashe was determined. Never had she let anyone defy her and she certainly wasn't going to let an ancient being do the same.

To her surprise, His hand reached up and touched her cheek. It was cold now, icy and chilled against her skin, but she felt a cry bellow out inside her. With the hand cupped against her skin, she could only see Basch…it seemed to be him touching her, with a love that she had craved since she had become a woman. Though this was no crush now, it was a splitting ache in her heart, a desire that would break her very body. It was a love that fused now with millions of years of passion from an Angel and she couldn't separate her own emotions with Ultima's. There was an urge and want to reach down and kiss him, but when his eyes fluttered shut, his hand fell from her cheek.

"Let me speak to him!!" she cried, scooping up his limp hand in hers and stroking the soft golden fuzz on his face. "Speak to me now!"

"He sleeps, highness." said the Viera trying to ease the distraught woman back away from the sleeping man. "Let him do so. Basch will come round eventually."

It didn't sink in at first. Ashe was too busy clutching his hand to her heaving chest, too busy with worry, but when Basch's breathing soothed to gentle gasps of sleep, she looked round and up to the Viera.

She looked young, but that didn't mean anything to her kind. The Viera was certainly less in years than Fran, but there was a despair and fatigue in her angelic features. The paleness of her skin and weariness in her eyes was clear to see, but there was strength and (to Ashe's concern) a longing and driving passion.

"Who are you?" Ashe asked, weakly. "How do you know who he is?"

The Viera allowed a weak smile to pry onto her lips and she placed a clawed hand on Basch's shoulder.

"I know who he is. I've known him from many years ago. If it hadn't been for Basch Fon Ronsenberg, I doubt that I would have had the strength to be alive right now."

"You…you…you knew Basch?" Ashe tried to conceal the jealousy in her voice, but the Viera heard it and nodded.

"He showed me other things than the Wood and I am who I am because of him. I owe him my life…but…" The Viera then carefully took Ashe's hands from Basch and closed her long claws around them. "I won't stand in your way."

"WHO are you?"

"Your majesty." The creature smiled. "My name is Jiiryn. I am at your service."

Feywood Year -686

He woke and was lying on a mound of cold moss and grass. The earthy dirt squished beneath his heavy set frame but the sickly sweet scent in the air made him even more groggy. Through watering and hazed eyes, he looked round and saw that he was in or beneath a tree, its large roots twisted around him like a cage or canopy, meshing together as tightly as they could to keep out the cold mist. The trails and tendrils of mist were like silver slivers of glass snaking in through the roots, reflecting as if a mirror would, traces of the trees and (if he looked closely) Basch himself. It was cold. Goosebumps rose all over Basch's bare skin.

"Humes don't recover well." Basch turned, almost knocking his head against a root, and he saw Jiiryn squeezing her way through inside. "You were unconscious for several days."

"It was that plant…." he groaned.

"If you say so, Hume." There was a slight annoyance to her tone of voice.

"My name is Basch."

"So you said, which is not important. What is, that we leave here and you stay away from Golomore! Already the wood has shown its disapproval of my helping you. So I brought you here, to recover. Why…I don't know. "

"This isn't Golomore?" Basch tried to get to his feet, but he found out that there wasn't enough room to fully stretch out. Even Jiiryn couldn't do so.

"This is the Feywood. A place none of my people have come to in a long while. It's ancient, older than Golomore…her soul has dwindled away over the many years and now all that remains is primal instinct and savagery. Golomore cannot penetrate through here…I cannot hear my wood calling to me. Only faint whispers and hushed murmurs."

Were there tears in her eyes? Basch, in a crouching position, shuffled over to her. He reached out a hand to offer some kind of comfort or support, but Jiiryn jerked away, the sadness turning to disgusted anger.

"I do not need your help any more, Hume! Though I am grateful you saved my life, I have tended to your own wounds and seen you safe too. We can part from here on after!"

She was trying to be strong, but she wasn't convincing Basch. He knew all about loss, these past few months had been nothing but him trying to vent his anger and remorse onto the fiends. He had gone into a frantic fiend killing spree so soon after parting Landis, angry and sickened…soon it was only his anger that controlled him. He knew loss….he knew what it did and he could tell that this Viera was experiencing something similar. Her long ears were jerking and her head kept turning or tilting as if she was straining to hear something. The wood…it was displeased?

"Is it my fault?" he asked rubbing his eyes as another stream of mist made his head daze with grogginess. "Have you lost connection with the wood because of me?"

The Viera was furious, but in such a way that she looked extremely disgusted. As if a mere hume could even begin to understand what she was going through?

"The bond between Viera and the wood, is beyond you, Hume!"

Her words only confirmed his thoughts.

"My name…is Basch!" he snapped.

"As if I care! Gather up your things and lets go now! The mist is thickening outside and the more dangerous fiends are drawn to it!"

She threw him his shirt and his sword and when the weapon cluttered to the mossy ground, Basch bent down to pick it up. He paused and sighed. Obviously something else had happened when he was unconscious.

"Did you take my pants off?" he asked.

There was a sharp intake of snarling breath from the Viera. She clung on tightly to her quiver of arrows and checked the contents. There was a different anger in her expression now, one that Basch recognised only too well.

"Yes." Jiiryn cleared her throat. "I had to take your garments off to stop the bleeding. I put them back on didn't I?"

"You put them on the wrong way round." Basch turned and pointed at his bum. "This flap bit? This is supposed to be at the front! If I need to take a pi--!"

"Hume! I won't hear of your disgusting gender specific bodily functions!"

"What?!"

"Do you still want to live or shall I cut you down now?!!"

Her face was actually flushing with embarrassment. Basch smiled, but that only got a slap around the face.

"What the hell was that for?!" he shouted as he touched his smarting skin.

Jiiryn couldn't reply. Her lips pursed and her claws rested on her hips. Her lack of response spoke more than words could ever have said. The Viera couldn't hide the fact that she had found his hume body fascinating. Basch held back another triumphant smile and picked up his shirt and the remainder of his armour. Once fully dressed, the cold still seeped in past the mail and through his undergarments.

"Well?!" she asked, as he stood their shivering. "Shall we go?"

"It's cold…have you got any more…..coats or cloaks?"

"Viera don't feel the temperature. I feel neither the cold or the heat from Ivalice. You will just have to suffer."

"Suffer. Oh wonderful."

Basch felt his pain come back. Not that his deeds in Golomore had erased such feelings.

The memories of his childhood came back…when he was but fourteen…pursuing and chasing the girls in the blossom fields, the endless "manly" conversations with his father and Noah…his mother's sweet laugh, her grace as she danced and sang, her lessons of the sword, his father's tutoring of blacksmithing and cooking…all those sweet wonderful happy times were only replaced with their screams and their cries. Suffer. It was all Basch would seem to accept now.

He followed Jiiryn, barely able to squeeze between the tree's roots. He saw the dark blackness around him. The cold temperature dropped even more, his whole body was shaking, his teeth were chattering and his fingers felt numb as the clung to his sword.

Then there was a screeching howl and through the blackness and iced mist, there was a blazing fire.

Rabanastre Year 707

"Has he still said nothing?"

Vaan closed the door and saw both the Lady Arla and Ardal Danver standing discreetly behind him. They didn't crowd him like the Archadian guards had done, (but the guards had tried to force him up against the wall) instead the young man and older woman kept their distance and spoke in respectful quietened tones.

"Nah." Vaan said, scratching his head and then flicking some of the longer locks from his face. "Even when the sky went all black and the people starting panicking…he didn't say a thing. I don't understand why he wanted me to stay! Penelo would have at least been able to convince him to go back to Archadia! I just get evil looks and snarls. Larsa can't stay here. He needs to be in Archades...right? He needs to speak to his people about what's going on."

"Do you think he knows what's going on?" asked Arla, "Or cares?"

"Larsa is a caring guy! He must care! It's who he is! I certainly don't like it when he's angry and starts throwing stuff. They tend to hit me!"

"But can you not feel it Vaan?" asked Danver. "This blackness, this fog that has doused Ivalice is filled with anger. People all over Rabanastre are feeling it, becoming angry and frightened."

"Me? I'm breezy." Vaan replied with a slight contradiction to his words. "But things are being done…right? I mean, I have friends in Low town and…."

"I have already addressed the people." Danver said. "It's helped. A little. People are being urged to remain in their homes…supplies will be given out by the Knights and soldiers and I know of your friends, Vaan. Migello has left a message, they are with him. Safe."

"That is a relief." He bobbed his head and then looked a little lost as to what to do next. Everyone else were off doing something, the Queen, hopefully devising a solution to this mess, but it all essentially came down to the same thing with Vaan. He was left babysitting. He wanted to do more.

"Perhaps then it is time to allow Larsa to go back to Archades." said Arla gently opening the door and peering inside. Sure enough, Larsa was sitting in a chair by the window, looking out with a pale ashen and emotionless face. The young boy's normally pristine appearance had been left, his long black hair was in tatters and his skin was unwashed, crusted with dried spit and dribbles of food. He looked awful.

"Allow him?" Vaan shook his head. "He doesn't want to go! What do you suggest we do? Force him back? Get the guards to pick him up and carry him screaming and protesting and…hey that doesn't sound such a bad idea."

"Not a very wise one, Vaan." said Danver. "He's very fragile, he's gone through a horrible trauma."

"I know and I understand. But what can he do here?"

"What can he do back in Archadia?"

"In a city where the people hardly walk any way?! It will be his home and the people who know him can get close to him and tend to his needs."

"You know him more than anyone else does." said Danver. Vaan shook his head.

"You're wrong!" Vaan made some air quotes with his fingers. ""Gabranth" knows him more than anyone else and he's not here!"

Vaan was anything but subtle.

"Perhaps, I should have a word with him." Arla said, after the two men had continuously tried to win this futile argument. Danver didn't seem to have a problem with it, but that irritating teen face that Vaan was now pulling (curled top lip and frowning brow) only made Arla more determined.

"He doesn't know you either…" said Vaan.

"A woman's gentle touch will probably be needed." said Arla, her eyes fluttering and her smile baring beautiful white teeth. "He might listen to me."

"Or he might throw something. Be careful, m'lady."

Arla bowed in thanks for his concern and carefully entered the room. She closed the door behind her and pushed up the long trailing sleeves of her dress. Larsa never moved, he didn't even flinch at the sound of her shoes on the wooden floor or react to the gentle and luring hum as she sang.

Arla pulled a chair from the corner of the room up next to the Emperor and with a ladylike poise, she sat down and draped a leg delicately over the other. For a moment, she just continued to sing, occasionally her gaze would revert to the stump that was Larsa's leg and then to his face. The face was still unchanging, the feelings were locked far away, trapped in a void and bottomless nothing. He was empty.

"I think we ought to get you back to your, people, Lord Larsa." she said, her voice anything but calm or friendly. "You're taking up time and space and not contributing to this crisis, in which we all are suffering."

No response.

"You are in such sorrow…I understand, but right now…I don't care. You Larsa Solidor are going to pay even more dearly if I don't get what I want."

Her hand snapped out and a fierce tight grip locked around his bottom jaw. She snapped his head round to face her and for the first time, there was fear, there was a reaction in the boy's eyes. His body also began to shake.

"I hear that Captain Basch Fon Ronsenberg was not killed for his crimes. He lives and serves under you!" The anger was now finally being released from Arla, her hold on the Emperor never ceasing. "You allow that man to serve not only yourself, but Ashe as well. I am hurt…furious! I am devastated that either of you could allow this! So…you're going back to Archades for when the good "Judge" returns and I am going to be there. Do you understand?"

Larsa struggled in the woman's hold, his shaking hand tore at her fingers to try and release her grip, but he was too weak.

"I said do you understand?!"

Larsa tried to nod, but her grip on his chin didn't allow for much movement at all.

"Y-yes!"

"Good! Because I intend to greet darling Basch and give him what I've always dreamed and wanted. I will make him regret ever living." Arla's hand loosened from Larsa's jaw and her fingers stroked up his cheek and through his hair. "Won't that be sweet?"

Larsa didn't know how to respond. What had once felt so numb, now began to throb with hurt and pain. The anger was surging in his chest, accompanied by a self pitying and self hating woe. Tears trickled down his cheeks and his hands were twitching to strike out at this woman. He wanted to pick something up, anything and smash it against her face, he wanted to cut her…to show her what he was going through.

But then she started to sing once again and it was tune that was all too familiar to him.

"Who are you?" he sobbed, as the anger from the blackness tried to pry his hand once again.

Arla just smiled back in return.

"Just a woman scorned."

Archades Year 701

Larsa watched as the young couple tried to sneak away down the corridor. To him, they hadn't been discreet, but he doubted that his newly appointed protector was planning on being so. Things had not been going well at all and the Judge had changed so dramatically, that Larsa feared for his future.

Gabranth had been neglecting Drace a lot and Larsa despaired as she was one of the few Judges that the young lord was actually fond of. She had seen the good in Gabranth just as Larsa had and she had placed her trust and love in him.

Larsa knew that his protector loved her as well, but the past months had changed him. Larsa's own brother, his family was changing this man and it wasn't for the better. They were corrupting a man who had the potential to do good for Ivalice. He could have helped bring peace.

But now, instead of being with the woman who truly loved him, Gabranth was pressing another against the cold marble wall and eating her with his lusting lips. His hands ripped at her dress, so his hungry hands and mouth could taste her bare throbbing body.

There was no love, no gentle caresses or sweet soothing words. Larsa had seen Gabranth capable of such tenderness and affection, but this was just a lustful and sex craze mania roaring through this man. Larsa couldn't bare to watch. He didn't want to think that Gabranth was capable of such harsh dispassion, even if the woman was enjoying herself.

This act should not have been so carelessly indulged in the palace corridors, he should not have been so casual in his madness. Larsa was about to go over there, protest and break them up, but before he could, Gabranth dragged the woman away and out of sight. The seven year old couldn't follow, he was rooted to the spot.

"Such reckless and improper behaviour. Do you think he is the right man to be your protector, brother?"

Larsa turned round. Vayne came from the shadows of the marble pillars, his mouth contorted in a grimace that Larsa loathed and feared.

"I know he is confused, brother. He is hurting more than he ever let on."

"I am touched that you hold concern for a Judge such as him."

Vayne didn't sound as if he was. In fact, Larsa saw a sneer of contempt touch the corner of his mouth. Larsa wasn't surprised, Vayne and the rest of his older brothers weren't the most sensitive and caring of people. Father had seen to that.

"He is a loyal servant to the Empire." Larsa stated as he gazed at where the torn shreds of the woman's dress lay on the floor. "He has done nothing to harm me and nor will he ever. These actions of Gabranth are hurting himself and…"

"And, Drace. Indeed." Vayne casually flicked a single black strand of hair from his face. "I have noticed. Perhaps I should have a word with Gabranth?"

"No, lord brother. There is no need." Larsa replied rather too hastily. "I can talk to him. He is in my service as well."

"But what do you know of a man's heart, little brother?"

More than you.

Larsa had noted the change in Vayne, the feelings had drained, the smiles and laughs were void of emotion, empty and soulless. Larsa had no recollection of when he had changed, of when he had become as cold as his father, but just like all their other siblings, they had lost the spark of life their mother had installed in them. Vayne never spoke of her, neither had the others, but Larsa would never forget her. Her smile, the soft singing and the comfort of her touch.

How would she feel to see them like this? Disappointed? Certainly. Larsa was young when she died, but he knew, deep down, that she would be distraught to know her family was becoming so distant from each other. Distant and cruel to the people of Archadia.

She believed in peace…Larsa felt that he should continue those beliefs.

From this moment on, he swore to try and protect these two men. His older brother needed his loyalty, Vayne had to have some good to cling to, a bond to try and keep him from collapsing into complete madness and Larsa would be that. As a brother, it was his duty. Vayne deserved his love.

Gabranth. The "Commoner" as he had so been dubbed by the other Magisters, the man from Landis who no one thought would be so loyal after the ravaging of his homeland. Yet there were none as loyal, Larsa felt. Like a true brother, Gabranth and his kindness appealed to him and seeing him fall like this was horrifying. It hurt more so than for his own flesh and blood. Gabranth needed to believe in himself once again and Larsa would help him. Gabranth needed his love.

Yet the young lord had no idea that, despite all his efforts, he would fail.

The Strahl- Year 707

Balthier came to, with a searing pain and dripping blood from his nose. He also felt the throbbing of his ship's engines through his body. Someone was flying the Strahl and he hadn't given permission. This angered him even more. As he tried to pull himself up, he felt that his hands were bound tightly and his fingers touched smaller and softer delicate digits.

Penelo was tied to him by the wrists, her legs wrapped around his waist and his curled round her tiny hips, but when Balthier looked at her, he saw the bruise shining on her cheek and the blood dripping from her lips. Those Bangaa bastards had hit her!

Fury boiled inside him. His honour demanded retribution for what they did to her and so he thrashed manically in an attempt to break free, but Penelo was stronger. Her hand forced up to bring their hands to his face. Her eyes were wide with a fierceness of her own. Her stare and touch told him that she wasn't weak and that although she had been abused, she wasn't broken.

"I'm okay. I'm all right."

A moment of relief at the teen's strength calmed the pirate's anxiety and their hands dropped to their laps. His fingers clasped tightly to hers as he observed their surroundings.

Sure enough, one of B'Gamnan's siblings were seated in the Strahl's pilot seat (Soiling the nice leather with their stink, damn them!) but the other was empty and a more terrifying fear tensed his bones.

Fran! Fran! Where are you?!

"He's awake." came the screechy voice of the foul Rinok. The female turned round in the chair and barred dripping yellow teeth. Balthier hated to think that this female Bangaa could even get a mate. She was gross.

"Balflear! Welcome to the land of the living, hume scum!"

A hand grabbed his hair and pulled his head back so hard that all he could see was the green hideous face of Bwagi. Long strands of sticky drooling spit drooped onto his face and Balthier's stomach heaved and wrenched at such sickness.

"Did you brush your teeth this morning, Bwagi?" Balthier jerked his head to try and flick some of the phlegm from his face but it only resulted in ripping some of his hair from his skull. "Or perhaps you would like a mint to freshen that breath of yours?"

Those remarks gained a swift jolt to the small of his back and Balthier thought (as he had on numerous occasions) that making smart arsed remarks was probably not a good idea in situations such as this. Then as always that grin appeared on his face. It wouldn't be him if he didn't.

"I am so close to gutting you right now, you fetid maggot!" Bwagi pressed a knife to Balthier's neck. "But we're taking you to Nalbina. Our employer has expressed an interest in you, so she is the only thing that's keeping you alive right now. But if you piss me off any more, hume…there will be an unfortunate accident involving your neck and this knife. My hand can slip suddenly."

Balthier wasn't going to make a remark this time. Penelo had squeezed his hands, the girl also hoping and encouraging him to keep his mouth shut. Bwagi released his hold on his head with a heavy shove and Penelo was quick to clasp his face with her fingers before their skulls cracked together from the force. She leaned in close, her lips almost touching his ears whilst her fingers wiped at the blood still dripping from his nose.

"Ask about Fran." She whispered, her voice so full of worry. He smiled and parted back, turning his head to find where the three lizards were positioned. Rinok was still flying his ship, but Bwagi and Gijuk were now conversing together in the doorway.

"Where is Fran?" asked Balthier with a rather stern and demanding grate. Bwagi looked up and grinned another slobbery smile.

"The Half bunny? We left her in Bhujerba!"

"You left her there?!" cried Penelo as she strained against Balthier's sudden angry reaction. "She's not well!"

"If the other Viera are anything to go by…she'll still be joining them." Gijuk jovially added.

"You bastards!!!" Penelo screamed. "You cruel bastards! How could you?!"

"Penelo!" Balthier pulled her to him and, as best he could, kept her so that her head rested against his chest. She was starting to cry, her sobs racked her body as she thought of Fran alone in the dark city and in pain. "Fran is strong. She won't give in like the others, she will stay alive."

"Do you really think so?" Bwagi asked, mockingly. "Do you really think your old lady will be able to put up with having Hume parts inside her? Not even I could have the strength! No…she will despair, she will fall into the black abyss and take her life. All of her kind will."

"And the rest of us will follow." Balthier retorted. "In case you haven't seen what's going on out there…I would think the end of the world is probably about to make an appearance. So whatever your employer is paying you, it won't matter, because you'll be just like your dear darling brother."

"As long as you go first, Balflear…." Bwagi snarled. "Then I don't give a crap."

"I won't go first." Balthier smirked, but then his voice became deadly serious, threatening and frightening. "Because if I find out that Fran has been hurt in any way, through any action of her own or by others….I will make sure that it will be you who takes the front row seat when the show starts."

"She's already dead!" roared Bwagi. "As good as and she will be all alone! She won't have you!"

Now why did he have to go and say something like that?

There was a scream. It wasn't Balthier or Penelo.

From the pilot's seat, Rinok cried out a long string of hysterical Bangaa phrases, which caused her two brothers to rush to their sides. From their position on the floor, Balthier and Penelo couldn't make out what had caused the female to cry out like that, but the reaction from the other two told them that it wasn't good.

"What has happened to Nalbina?" shouted Bwagi. "Where's the fortress gone?"

"Destroyed, brother!" Rinok's voice was high pitched and laced with distress. "It's been completely obliterated! No one could have survived!"

Nalbina Fortress destroyed? Balthier couldn't believe it, yet the Bangaa siblings wouldn't have any reason to lie about such a thing. Penelo's grip on his hands was squeezing hard, almost to the point of crushing his bones and her sweet face was distorted with horror.

"The destruction goes all the way to Mosphoran!" Gijuk slammed an angry fist on the console. "What could have done this?!"

"She knew." Bwagi slouched down into Fran's empty chair. His fearful eyes wouldn't tear away from the desolate smoking remains that had once been a tall proud fortress. "That bitch knows more than she told us. This changes everything."

A knife was drawn. The Bangaa were no longer caring about whether Balthier or Penelo lived now. Though Bwagi would make sure that Balthier suffered, there was no doubt about that. The new head of this clan of siblings would make his death achingly painful and long drawn.

Bwagi pressed the blade against his palm, turning it round and round, his rage seemed different now, for it wasn't personal any more. The three of them had suddenly become quite afraid.

"We've got to do something!" Rinok pleaded.

"Do what?!"

"We've got to get down there!"

"And then? Check for survivors? You said yourself that no one could have lived through that assault! What do we care anyway?"

They cared. Even the hardest and coldest of bounty hunters had to be effected by such an occurrence. Rinok began to shout in protest at her brothers, the both of whom replied with just as much angry retaliation. With no B'Gamnan around, there wouldn't be any settling of their furied rantings.

Balthier didn't listen to what they spouted out from then on. He was rather too occupied with the sudden fondling around his crotch. Penelo's fingers kept moving and grazing his testicles, so much so that Balthier was beginning to worry about what this girl had in mind.

"Steady on there girl…." he said. "They're precious goods you know. Though I don't know why you're…."

"Sssh!" Penelo whispered as she now rested her chin on his shoulder. Her hands were still shifting and twisting in their laps and Balthier had to turn his head as her breasts kept shoving in his face. "I'm not trying to feel you up on purpose! I just want to get my hands out of these bonds."

"Don't stop being careful mind."

"Balthier…."

He winced as she caught him again.

"Yes?"

"Fran…she will be okay…won't she?"

"I know her too well." he said, "Fran is strong. She will be fine."

Balthier didn't believe a word he said. As the Bangaa continued to argue amongst themselves, Balthier thought of his partner. She was alone in Bhujerba, alone and fragile. He wasn't there to help her to stay strong, to give her the courage she needed to cope with her change.

For the first time in his life, Balthier was genuinely scared for what would happen to her and her safety was all that mattered. He felt the bonds around his wrists loosen as Penelo finally slipped her hands free. All he had to do now, was get rid of these pathetic lizard fools and turn his ship back round to Bhujerba.

Nothing else mattered.

Bhujerba Year 707

There were the sounds of gunshots, screams and terror from the city, but Fran never paid any attention. She starred out to the blackness that enveloped Ivalice and heeded nothing else. She never responded to the cries of help as someone was attacked, she didn't console anyone who had a loved one dying in their arms. She just stood on the ledge of the Khus Sky grounds, feeling the icy wind ripping at her hair and her skin.

The cold bit her deep, in three hundred years she had never felt the climate of Ivalice, but now it was eating her, tearing chunks from her as a Steeling would rip at flesh. She felt everything except what she wanted. For fifty years, Fran thought she could finally cope with her mistake, but Golomore had cast the final deadly blow. It was a suffering she didn't think she could endure any more.

She looked down. There was only black below, hiding the eventual death that would welcome her if she stepped off this ledge. Fran turned round, the faint spot lights spinning through Bhujerba made the city look like a ghost town, that too offering a death by the crazed rioters that roamed the streets.

Fran held up her hand, a third option to end this despairing existence. The Fomalhaut was heavy in her grasp, but it was cocked and loaded and all it would take was a single squeeze of the trigger.

Never ending tears streamed down her cheeks as she angled the barrel to her chin. Her hands were shaking, she couldn't steady the weapon through her anguish. A shredding pain pulled at her abdomen, the flowing blood of hume life only reminded her of the terrible choice she had made all those years ago, it reminded her of the heaven she had lost. Nothing made sense in her memories of that day…Fran didn't understand her decision. So she had to make the right one now.

The cold barrel of the gun was forced against her skin, a single long claw curled round the trigger and it began to squeeze. She needed to do this. The pain had to stop.

Rabanastre Year 800

"I hate you. You know that, don't you?"

The youthful man smiled, but he never let go of the frail woman's arm as he aided her through the streets of her city. Nor did he utter a reply to the elderly lady's question. It was a statement she said everyday, she had done so for the past ten years and even when she had come close to death, she had cursed and spat his name with all her hatred. But he knew that she didn't really mean it.

"My memory is fading…" she said as they slowly strolled past the water fountain. Her withered hands were shaking, each step she took was unsteady and every breath she heaved crackled with a wheezy gasp. "Names…places…the little things….it's all fading."

"We can rest a while."

Hacking coughs came from the old woman as her aide steadied her onto the marble ledge of the fountain pool. It took a few minutes for her to stop shaking, but when he sat down next to her, she smiled and allowed his thick arms to gently rest on her bony shoulders.

"I'll never forget you though, sweet Noah. You look so much like your grandfather I could have thought you were him. So handsome….so beautiful….except for that mess you call a beard! Why don't you shave boy?!"

"You tell me not to."

"Rubbish! Cut it off!"

"If you insist."

"Don't be insolent boy! You're not above getting a clip round the ear!"

"I meant no disrespect…"

"Gods! You even speak like your grandfather! Lighten up! Smile! That was something Basch rarely did! Smile! Put a grin on that handsome face of yours!"

He could barely manage it. Her memory was getting worse every day, there were times she didn't know who she was and her frightened fits made him die a little inside. He loved her and he couldn't bare to see her in a weak and degrading state.

This was a good day, she had insisted on walking around her birthplace and some of the stories she told were accurate and so full of detail that it made his own life a little warmer. More bearable.

"You still alone, Noah?" She asked, after a few minutes of silence. "I hate to see you as such."

"There is no one for me…my lady."

Her smile was a blessing to him.

"You call me that…I am no lady." Her hand touched his knee and patted it affectionately. "But I have always said there is someone for everyone. There will be for you."

There hadn't been for a long while. There couldn't be.

"Maybe…" he said.

"Children are a wonderful thing, Noah. I have had many and I've never regretted."

He wished he could say the same thing. Then, he saw the life fade from her eyes. He knew what would come next.

"My hair is not right." she said, as her hand stroked at the silver grey strands around her shoulders. "I don't like the way my hair is…those stupid maids didn't do it properly!"

"No…." his voice choked. "Your hair is lovely…it's just as…"

"It's the wrong bloody colour! They've ruined my hair! I had such beautiful blonde hair! It glimmered in the sun when I danced!! Those stupid bitches wrecked my lovely hair!!!"

She started to pull and shred with clawed fingers at her thin strands, her body was shaking in fear and anger through her diseased mind. Her cries grew louder, her angry swearing caught the attention of the people around them and his attempts to calm her failed completely. She thrashed and kicked in his hold, he took every hit she threw, he took every scratch and bite….he wept.