As Sam says from Quantum Leap….Oh boy! This was a big toughie for me to write! The Writers Block was awful, the words just wouldn't come out and nothing felt right. In some cases they still don't. I might re-edit at a later date. I am so sorry this has taken so long…but I hope that as usual, you enjoy it.
Reviews wanted and needed….appreciated, as always.
Final Fantasy 12
TRUE FEELINGS
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He looked at his bleeding hand, watching the deep crimson fluid seep from the gash on his skin and fall to the grey stoned floor. He knew what it was, he'd seen it spilled and caused it to spill so many times before. He hated it. He loved it. The sight of it didn't use to do anything for him except incite great shame, sadness and immense pain. But now as he saw the red mix in with the black of his own…(his own?) there was excitement and pleasure. A very perverse pleasure at seeing all this blood.
He felt different. This little tiny wound on his hand didn't hurt him at all, though it was deep. It was the rest of him that had changed. He felt so small, constricted, weak but at the same time strong and wilful, there was a power pounding in his bony chest. He was disgusted with himself, he had been for a long while (how long? Thirty seven years? Or Thirty seven million years?) and that seemed to be stronger than ever.
He was smaller. Thin and restricted to the strange and disgusting body that tried to keep him alive. He had to breathe, he had to actually inhale air and release it, he felt the blood rushing through him pumped by an aching and feeble heart…he heard sounds…the sickening sound of speech and of words….he spoke them. He saw with eyes that showed him only a fraction of what he knew existed and memories blended with his own.
This body was weak from torture and imprisonment, just as he was…but unlike him, the anger and hatred was quelled by a sense of honour and loyalty. He was a fool. Why had he decided upon an existence such as this?
Her. The Hume. This duty and loyalty was all for her. He felt his whole life, every pain every scar and injury was for her, all he had suffered and endured…was for her. It was something similar to what still flickered like a hopeful flame inside him, a meagre emotion in comparison but it was there. But it wasn't as weak as he thought it was. Every time those blind blues eyes looked at her, the heart pumped faster, when her lips curled upwards back at him, his chest welled with pride and admiration…and adoration? Love? She was what drove him, she bade his command, earned his respect and was the source of his passion.
Asheila. The only thing he wanted in his pitied miserable existence…the one thing he could not have. He never allowed it and it angered and frustrated him…made him weak. Then it made him strong.
He was so confused. Through these eyes he saw a being that disgusted him and gave him hope, for both sides of him worshipped her for what she was and what she would become.
The struggle inside began.
Ivalice
On a shore, on a distant island, far away from the reaches of any, the ground began to break. A rumble came from deep inside the earth and cracked through to the surface. The crack grew as it travelled up towards the centre of the island, ripping apart and swallowing whole anything that got in its way. The single crack broke off into many, splitting and shattering the ground, drinking up the ocean and grinding the earth, it wasn't going to stop.
From a rage and evil beyond this world could fathom, the abyss rose up and began to travel across Ivalice, across the great ocean and towards the main lands, where already death and sorrow was plentiful.
The deepest hell drank from the living. She was going to swallow it all, because in the end, it was all hers anyway.
Mosphoran Wasteland 707
It had been only half an hour since Ashe had woken. The Viera who had helped her with Basch had given her some clothes which could be spared and even allowed her to stay in the tent whilst the man recovered. However, upon hearing the chaos outside, Ashe had to go and see for herself.
Chaos was a deep understatement. The Babbling Vale encampment was like a hospital in a war zone, as wounded people occupied the entire valley, some not even able to have shelter from the cold black night. Those who were tending to the injured and dying, did so with the basic of first aid skills, using bandages and splints, anything that could be used, was in trying to save lives. Ashe assumed that they had run out of healing potions, otherwise they wouldn't be resorting to bloodied and hands on means.
The Viera called Jiiryn certainly appeared to be the leader of this camp. She was giving out orders and sorting out triage, as well as offering what Viera knowledge she knew that could help.
A small child, barely even ten years old rushed up to her. The girl was so young and clearly terrified beyond belief.
"Jiiryn, the Viera lady is hysterical! I don't know what to do!"
Jiiryn knelt down in front of her and gently stroked her shoulders and arms.
"Stay with her, Lanni. She needs someone to comfort her right now. Talk to her and keep her calm. Don't talk about death and keep any sharp objects away from her. Can you do that for me?"
"She won't hurt me…will she?"
"Lanni, it is possible. All the Viera here are unpredictable, but we don't have resources to keep looking after them. All I ask is that you be careful. Josed will help you, he knows what to do. Be brave for me little one. Promise?"
The little girl nodded and then hurried away, her sobs choking in her mouth.
Ashe also noticed other children and elderly just as deep in the awful blood and stench of fetid flesh. Some were well enough to help, others were in agony and pain.
Ashe couldn't bare it. She approached Jiiryn as she and a few others were trying to hold down a screaming man. His arm was burnt down to the bone, blood was gushing everywhere and on everyone. His screams wouldn't silence.
"We have to cut it off." cried Jiiryn stuffing a small wooden stick in the man's mouth. That didn't really do much to stifle the screams. "Keep a strong hold gentlemen…this can get nasty. On my signal. One. Two….three…now!"
Another man with a sharp axe whipped down the double headed blade from overhead and sliced the burnt and crisped limb clean off. The scream roared above all the others, the poor man thrashed in agony trying to break out of the hold Jiiryn and her people had on him, but his screaming soon died down and was drowned by others in the camp.
Ashe felt sick to see such a sight, but it didn't stop her from taking off her cloak and giving it to the Viera. Jiiryn smiled and used the cloak to help with the bleeding. As she worked, Ashe took it upon herself to aid in any way she could. She was afraid, but Ashe was damned if she was going to be standing around doing nothing.
After an hour of labouring to save lives, Ashe was beginning to feel tired, every part of her body ached and hurt. Though she would gladly suffer those, if it meant no more died.
"What happened out there, Jiiryn?" she asked, as another body was taken away. "Who was responsible?"
"Nalbina has been levelled to the ground. Many…if not all have died in the wake of the vengeful being. Now a fire ravages through Mosphoran and the town of Nalbina is nothing but ashes. Some of the remaining imperials have stayed to help, put out the fires, tend to the wounded…there were over three hundred people living there, some escaped barely. Majesty…you have done enough…you should go back to Basch."
"He sleeps. You need me here."
"We need you strong." said Jiiryn holding on to Ashe's arm and leading her over to the water brook. "I know that it is you and Basch who can put an end to all of this."
"I'm sorry, I don't understand."
Jiiryn pointed over to the tent, where two very large Seeqs were standing guard.
"Those two men are the only ones who are keeping some of the people here going into that tent and taking the Captain out to lynch him. But it is you that could save us all. So I ask you, can you really control Ultima? Or is She controlling you?"
"You…you know?"
"I saw the both of you enter the camp last night. I saw the power and yes, I know of the Espers…the stories are always clear in my mind from the wood. I know Zodiark's anger and strength is great. When Basch defeated him and bound him to His stone, he could of commanded Ivalice's most powerful creature. I never thought that Zodiark…or even Basch would allow each other to merge. It was not thought possible. Then….you…did the same with the Seraph. The angel…you share her soul."
Not quite share.
Ashe had sensed the moment Ultima had connected with her. She had felt so old, but mighty. Cold but burning with rage and fire. Memories that were beyond her comprehension appeared like flashes in her dreams, but the feelings were there. Strong emotions of hatred and anger…of love and sadness. Always thoughts of him. Of Zodiark.
Ultima did what she wanted, took control when she saw it beneficial. Ashe was nothing but a tool for her. So why had she allowed this?
The sword had defeated Her, it was Ashe's strength that had struck the blows and beat the Esper down. The plunge of the blade had ripped the being apart, breaking her into thousands of swirling pieces of light. The crystal formed round her to imprison her once more, but Ashe had held it. She had the command over Ultima.
Yet there was a pressure, a force willing her to break the crystal glyph stone. Someone had wanted her to break it and merge with the Esper. It was far from Ashe's choice. Had Basch been the same?
The pairing of all four of them had become far more serious.
The desire to embrace and stay close was strong from both Espers but so too was the repulsing and disgust at their hume bodies. The Espers buried themselves inside them, keeping hidden…becoming accustomed or tolerating the Humes who hosted them. They waited until now, when the feelings could no longer be contained, by any of them.
"I don't know what She does." said Ashe. "I know I don't control her, for when she surfaces, I sleep and remember nothing. I don't recall being attacked on the ship…I don't remember anything after seeing Basch in his cell…I do not control Ultima at all."
"I saw him bring you in to the vale, a man possessed and smoking with darkness…" said Jiiryn picking up a small cracked bowl and filling it with water. She took a sip herself and then offered some to the Queen.
"Basch….?" Ashe found it hard to breathe. "Are you saying that Basch was responsible for all this?"
Her hands were trembling, the bowl in her hand shook and water spilled over the side.
"It was not him…" Jiiryn said, shaking her head. "Basch would never do such a thing and you know that. Though I fear Zodiark has used him."
"The First…" Ashe muttered. A flash of another of Ultima's memory pierced her mind and she stumbled, falling to the ground. Her head was pounding horribly and her hands couldn't keep still. "You talk of being used…I've just felt this terrible anger and hatred. The memories are too powerful, alien and beyond everything, I can't understand it all. Ultima is so angry, she wants revenge and it's hurting her so much. She wants to make those responsible hurt."
"Will she even stop to think of the rest of us? Are we too beneath her that Ultima wouldn't destroy Ivalice through you?"
"I won't allow it…" Though there was doubt in her voice as to whether she could. "I don't know what needs to be done from here on. Where do I start?"
Jiiryn was about to respond, when her eyes spotted something coming down the vine hill. Her eyes widened in horror and when Ashe followed her gaze, she noticed a group of ragged imperial soldiers carrying a body. She couldn't make out what species it was, but when they came closer, she saw the bleeding stumps on top of soaked silver hair. A Viera.
"Jiiryn!" cried one of the soldiers. "We found her in the southern skirts! Mad beyond reason! We tried to calm her down, but she went totally the opposite and…she attacked us and then she slashed her ears off!"
"Bring her to me!" yelled Jiiryn.
Ashe couldn't move as the body of the earless Viera was rushed past her. She saw the deathly looking face, the blood and cried.
"Mrjn!"
The Strahl (Over Nalbina) - Year 707
At the same moment Asheila had woken to Basch's jerking fit, Balthier had woken from his own bloodied stupor.
Now, Penelo had loosen the bonds that tied them together and the two of them waited for the right moment to take back control of the ship.
The stupid Bangaa were still arguing, struggling against their own conscience for the desolate and scorched earth below them. Balthier felt the urge to strike out then and there, but Penelo was observing much more closely than he was. She shook her head at each jerk of his arm or twitch of his leg, her expressions telling him that it wasn't now. Not yet.
Their weapons were out of reach, but as Bwagi and his siblings argued more, like the morons they were, the better the opportunity to turn the situation around. The two humes watched as their captors huddled round the front view port and they began to shuffle on their bottoms towards the guns and sword so carelessly laid on the side panel. Penelo then slowly traced her hand from their laps around her body and behind her. The Bangaa voices were getting more raised by the moment and as they did so, Penelo's hand crept up the panel and her fingers closed round the Altair gun. In one quick fluid motion, she whipped it off the side and it was so accurate that it landed neatly in Balthier's hands.
"That-a girl!" He beamed the young teen an approving grin. Penelo did the same with the second, but Balthier had to lean back. The throw was off and the only way he could prevent it from crashing into the other side of the cabin was to have the metal weapon knock his already broken face. The pain crunched once again, but Balthier felt the gun fall into his lap. When he looked up, Penelo had allowed her sword to slip off the edge and into her hand.
Still the Bangaa had no idea as to what they were doing.
Bounty Hunters….Balthier scoffed an amused laugh…they were the lowest of all. Mercenaries who barely had a clue. These fools certainly didn't. Just like B'Gamnan.
"We go down!" Bwagi finally cried. "But don't let us forget our job! We still need to get to that Archadian bitch and get what's due for us!"
They were already about to get what was due to them. When the new leader of the pack turned away from the view port, Balthier sprung to his feet and cracked a vengeful blow to his long snout.
In a flash everyone lashed out and bared their arms. Gijuk wasn't quick enough and was halted by the long curved blade of Penelo's katana sticking at his throat. The acrobat dancer had flipped from the floor and swerved the sword around her head with a smooth graceful motion. Her moves were beautiful and elegant, but the sharp metal blade nicked against Gijuk's throat before he could attempt to force a thrust of his daggers.
Balthier snapped the hilt of the Altair to Bwagi's jaw, following through with a sharp kick to his shins. Bwagi fell to the floor and as he did so, Balthier predicted the swipe from Rinok's spear. He ducked and with accuracy pulled off a shot that caught the Bangaa woman in the leg. She screamed and joined her brother on the floor.
"Now, if you've all quite finished stealing my ship…" Balthier looked to Penelo, who still had her sword pointing at Gijuk's neck. "Shall we go down and aid those people?"
"With you?" Bwagi spat. "I don't think so."
"You're such a lovely person, do you know that?"
Balthier sighed and walked over to the pilot controls. When he looked out at the land below, he saw for the first time just how horrific it was. There was nothing but scorched black earth and ruins, smoke rose through the already blackened sky and the desolate land ran like a trail to the Mosphoran terrain.
How could anyone have survived this? What had done it?
Balthier reasoned that if anyone had survived, they would be at the nearest port of rest and he knew that to be the Babbling vale, the deep valley within the rocky and forest landscape. He sat down in the chair, one hand working at the controls to take the Strahl into land, whilst the other held his gun firmly on the two Bangaa.
"This doesn't make us friends, Balflear!" hissed Bwagi.
"The thought of us being friends never even entered my mind. I just thought that somewhere…if that heart of yours does exist, you might just co-operate in helping in this aftermath. Penelo…give Rinok a potion for the bullet wound. I don't want blood all over the decking."
"They're not all dead…are they Balthier?" asked Penelo. Her voice was weak with sorrow, though her hold on her sword still stayed. "They can't be."
"I hope not."
Eventually Balthier heard Rinok sigh with relief as Penelo gave her the potion. He took one for himself and turned round to face them. He saw Gijuk taking his own opportunity now the sword no longer threatened his life. The Bangaa reached out for Penelo and through sheer panic, Balthier fired off another shot. It missed and impacted with the wall of his ship.
Fuck!
Penelo was thrown once again across the cabin, she landed hard against the door frame and crumpled in a heap on the ground, her sword falling from her grasp. Gijuk lunged at Balthier and his claws ripped the gun from his hand. The struggle prevented Balthier from getting his second, as pounding fists smacked to his face and chest.
"Kill him!" yelled Bwagi. "Gut the fucking bastard! Cut that smile off his damned face!"
Balthier was pinned to his chair by the stinking Gijuk, the scaly skin and foul breath sickened his stomach, so with deep reluctance and necessity, Balthier head butted the Bangaa as hard he could.
Both of them reeled in pain, a horrid dizziness and agony rang inside their heads, but it certainly allowed Balthier the chance to get his second Altair.
"Penelo!" he shouted in confusion, the gun was shaking in his hand, everything was a blur. Something whizzed by his face and Balthier heard a sizzling crash.
There was a horrific and violent lurch from the Strahl as it began to tip forward into a dive. Balthier was thrown from the seat and he smacked straight into the front window. Gijuk's body slammed into his and he was winded of all breath. Gasping and straining to make sense of the churning chaos around him, Balthier could just about see Rinok and Bwagi struggling and screaming to hold on to something. Penelo had managed to catch a hold onto one of the back chairs, but the poor girl looked just as bruised as he was.
The engines screamed in protest. The Strahl was falling and it was going to crash.
Bastards!
Balthier shoved the Bangaa off him with as much strength as he had left, and through the force, he tried to get to the controls. They were smashed to pieces, Gijuk's claw daggers obviously having ripped them instead of Balthier during the struggle.
Desperation to save their lives and his ship, forced Balthier on, to pull himself up to the chair and grasp at the console. There wasn't anything there for him to use, he couldn't slow or alter the descent and as the speed increased, death was inevitable.
"Penelo!"
He cried out for the young girl, for her safety. He heard her cry his name in reply and he grieved for her. They would surely die on impact.
Ivalice
The false gods saw the breaking of the world. They were beyond fear now and their attempts to keep their masters and mistress at bay were falling apart. They grew weaker. Ivalice was being devoured and they couldn't stop it. They had been selfish to think they could have ruled this place, their foolish plans were ruined by the awakening…the destruction of the Cryst should never have occurred. Why had the Dynast King's heir failed them so?
The humes should have been stopped. Their rising power and knowledge of the nethicite should never have happened. Where did it go all wrong?
Rabanastre Year 687
"It's all right…you can come closer."
He was terrified. Only the necessary staff and servants were allowed in here, but she had called for him. She had asked for him. He saw the look of disgust in those who had aided her and his hands and feet were trembling as he slowly walked towards the bed.
He was not worthy for this. How could he be, for someone so young and inexperienced?
They had nicknamed him the "Commoner." He was not a noble like the others, but still she had favoured him. This privilege was beyond what even the highest Knights of the Order could hope for.
He was not worthy.
"Don't be afraid…" she said weakly. "She's only a baby."
His eyes finally found the courage to gaze upon the infant in her mother's arms and an instant change came over the young man. The child was asleep, snuggling in a serene motherly embrace. A head of light blonde hair covered her small head and there was hope shrouding her. She was so beautiful, she was pure innocence and in this moment, he knew that she would be his life. His reason for living.
"We have yet to give her a name, Amalia." said the King, who he noticed couldn't stop revelling in the young teen's fear. "Have you decided on one?"
"I have. I've always known it " Amalia pressed a loving kiss to her daughter's head. Then she addressed herself to the cowering boy at the foot of the bed. "Basch…her name. You know it."
He smiled. The name was instant in his mind, as this child was indeed as beautiful as the endless valleys of blossoms that had once been Landis. His weakness broke through. Tears welled up in his eyes.
"Asheila." Basch bowed down to his knees. "There is no other name more fitting, my Queen."
"Asheila." The Queen smiled, tears of joy mixed with an aching remorse for her birthplace.
Raminas sank down on the bed by his wife's side and kissed Amalia tenderly on the cheek. Then his old hand reached out for his child and he clutched delicately at her tiny fragile fingers.
The royal couple just endured the time, staring with all their love at their new daughter. She was everything to them, Basch could see it in their eyes and he felt the same. Seeing this child, this fragile and exquisite being made him whole. This life filled a hole that had been so cruelly gouged from his chest.
Asheila. She completed him and there would be nothing in this world that would bring harm to her. He would see to it. He would die himself to honour her.
Archadia 701
Two were born, but only one was empty. Giving birth to the child was the most painful thing she had ever endured. She had screamed until her voice was hoarse, she had bled until she almost died, but as she held the child in her arms, she felt nothing. She wanted to love it, for it looked just like its father, but she could sense the absence of a soul. The newborn never cried, its eyes were so black, that as it looked up at her, fear came over her. The mother was afraid of her child, she could barely hold this small tiny thing. She was disgusted.
No one else could see it. The healers all praised and congratulated her, but she could not accept any of it.
"How are you feeling?"
"Weak, Drace. So…horribly weak and tired."
Her friend had not noticed? She did not see the resemblance?
"Do you have names for your new children?"
"No. The lord Vayne wished to be present…has he not yet arrived?"
Drace shook her head.
"He has been notified….but surely as he is the..."
"Drace…I don't ask you for anything. You have been far too good to me, but please….take her. Take this child for a while…I am so tired. I must rest."
Her friend gently took the newborn from her hands and as soon as the child was grasped to her metal breast, the fear was clear to see in her eyes. This Judge of Archadia was a woman of strength, others feared her despite Drace's compassionate nature, yet now that strength and will was drained. All because of a child…there was terror in her friend's face. Horror and dread.
What had she given birth to?
Bhujerba Year 707
The most unlikely of creatures had pulled her away from death. Before her claw could squeeze the trigger, a small fury hand had pelted the Fomalhaut out of her grasp and all she saw was the gun falling into the deep darkness. The shadow of the weapon twirled into the depths, engulfed by the gloom. Her soul cried to follow it, she wanted to leap and fall along with it, to be swallowed up. Yet that same little hand grasped the leather skirt that trailed from her hips and pulled her back to the cold stone floor.
"Don't do it, mistress Kupo! Please! I could not bare it!"
She wanted to die…she so desperately wanted to stop this aching pain that shivered her very bones. Fran cried out in hysterical wails and thrashed at the air, her fists flayed madly at the demons that she perceived in her mind. But she only caught a small innocent creature and knocked the fluff ball flying across the ground.
Too many emotions, a strange alien world of feelings drowned Fran, a state of mind that she never wanted to perceive or experience. The bleeding and pain had been enough, yet now un-Viera yearnings coursed through her, it made her so confused.
"Fran, kupo! Please! Listen to me…it's Nono!"
That name was familiar. Her head craned round, her flaring red eyes met with the tiny black pupils of the Moogle. Nono. He…it…looked shabby. The little creature was battered, his white fur was doused in blood and the bobbing bauble that normally danced above his head was cracked and drooping around his neck. He was a friend of Balthier. A friend of hers?
She sneered. Her teeth bared through her lips and she seethed flecks of spit at her saviour. This Moogle would not save her, she didn't want to be.
"Mistress Fran…please…I beg you, kupo. Stay alive…stay strong. I know you can do this."
"Life doesn't matter." Fran hissed. "We are all going to die. Why not grant me the release?"
The tiny Moogle shook his head. No. There was no way he could allow it, for his kind respected life above all else. The Fran (as he respected) was in his care just as much as the Strahl had been, but when those Bangaa had thrown him away, Nono was determined to look after Fran…for they had abandoned her in the same manner. He had no idea why this wondrous being was behaving so erratic, but during his stay in Bhujerba, he had seen other Viera take their lives. A madness consumed all of their kind here, some he had seen endured it, stayed strong, but were not the graceful creatures they had been.
No one in Bhujerba was. Angry people controlled the streets, the Marquis had spoken to the public, told them to not be afraid and remain home, but not everyone listened. The guards were few and they tried their best to keep order. It wasn't enough.
"Release, Fran, kupo?" Nono shuffled back to her and hesitantly rested his paw on her leg. He stroked it in a comforting manner, hoping it would ease her for just a little. "Are you in that much pain?"
"Yes. I'm feeling everything and it hurts." Fran looked down at the Moogle again with distaste.
"Feelings tend to. You have to control them…calm yourself."
Fran snorted a disgusted laugh.
"Calm? Calm?! With anger boiling like a fire in my head? I feel grief, I feel fury, lust and contempt. Hatred and loathing…everything! I feel it all and it sickens me! I never had any of this."
"You feel everything, Mistress Fran? Do you not feel happy any more? The need to laugh? Do you not love?"
Love. Balthier.
A name and a feeling she hadn't associated together before. Friend, partner and trust, those always she felt for the young thing…but how could she love him? He was a child compared to her, but he was the person who she had grown fond of…tolerated his presence and companionship. She actually enjoyed being round him.
"I…" Fran moved away from the ledge and looked up at the city that surrounded her. "I think I do…I think I need to get away from here."
"Yes!" For the first time in a long while Nono clapped his hands with joy. "Good! We like this! Can I come, kupo?"
"Yes…little one. You will come with me to help me find Balthier. He is the only one that is important."
Fran didn't realise that she had held out her hand for the Moogle. As soon as Nono placed his paw in her big palms, she looked puzzled at the contact and wondered why she was feeling the need to hold him? Why was she feeling compassionate all of a sudden?
"We can go to the aerodrome." said Nono. "I'm sure we can….."
The smile drifted from the little Moogle's face.
Silhouettes crept from the allies. A sinister voice was singing, chanting and whining, spinning his name with deep menace. It had followed him all the way through Bhujerba.
"No-no!! No-no-no-no-No-no!"
Other voices joined in, whispering and lulling an eerie backing to the hissing singer.
"We got to run, mistress kupo!!" Nono panicked. The terror escalated in him and he tugged harshly on Fran's hand. "They will kill us for sure!"
Fran didn't respond. She didn't move. The hysterical Moogle became even more so, when appearing out on the Khus Sky ledge, there came a group of men. Hume, a couple of Bangaa and one Seeq.
Definitely not miners or the ordinary folk of this sky city, but the kind of scum and crap that appear in any town. Those who would always look for trouble.
The singing stopped as the six men approached. Nono cowered in the folds of Fran's long leather skirt but the Viera starred back at the gang with the same contempt she had shown Nono a moment ago. Though these men were anything but small sweet fluffy felines.
"Well, well, well!" said a tall Hume man, with a beer belly far too big for a youthful scrote. "Nono's made a friend everyone! It's such a pity these Viera aren't lasting for long. You really should pick your friends more wisely!"
The others laughed and they began to close in around Fran and Nono. She noticed they all had weapons. Guns, knives and axes and they were itching to be used. Fran suspected that these weapons were only used as a last resort, for these men, liked to use their fists.
They got closer. Fran could smell the stench of booze hazing off their clothes and their heaving breaths. She heard their hearts beating, the lust in their eyes and she felt their intent.
No they weren't going to kill. Not yet.
Fran did nothing.
One of the Bangaa snapped out a claw and grabbed Nono by his broken bauble stem. Like a master pulling on the choker of Chocobo, the Bangaa wrenched Nono from her side and began to shake him. Nono screamed…his voice wailed in terrified feline cries. Still Fran did nothing.
The other men were so close to her now, she knew what they intended to do. As she no longer wore her shoes, her clawed feet lay flat on the cold stone and these men towered above her.
There was nothing they could do to her that could make her feel worse. They couldn't hurt her.
A fat stodgy finger touched her shoulder. Another slimy hand caressed her back, each one of them touched her skin, sneering and gasping as the sensation aroused them with sick thoughts.
"Do you know, what you are capable of?" asked the hume man, his face pressing against her cheek. Fran did nothing. She said nothing. She simply allowed him to run his tongue over her cheek, a foul roughness scraping over her skin. She allowed his hand to take hold of her body and to rip the skirt from her waist.
No. He could do nothing to hurt her.
The Moogle's screams cried her name, the Moogle cried in pain and wept for his helplessness as he was shaken again and again.
This pain was nothing to her.
Archadia Year 707
The journey to the city had been eventless for the most part, though the darkness and chaos outside unnerved Vaan. He sat next to Larsa in the Emperor's room, trying not to recall the dreams of his brother sitting in a similar state. The young boy reminded Vaan of those haunting dreams he had of Reks, the blank stare was the same, the way his arms draped over the side of the chair and the lack of response to his voice.
Vaan had tried to talk to Larsa. He wanted to let the Emperor know that he had tried, he had so desperately tried to save him in Golomore and he was sorry. He didn't get anything back at all.
Larsa had been cleaned up, Arla had seen to that. She had made him presentable for when the ship docked at the palace, but still there was nothing.
The anger from outside began to boil in Vaan. The guilt and remorse he felt was now moulded into a outburst of rage Vaan hadn't expressed to anyone. Except for Basch.
"Why am I here?!" Vaan jumped up from his own chair and walked into Larsa's path. He held his hands on the edges of Larsa's arm rest and shoved his face close to the pale teen's. "Why did you even want me to come along with you? I should be out there! Helping Balthier and Fran! Helping Ashe! Anything except sharing in your damned bloody misery and self pity! I don't know what to say any more that can make you feel better! I've said sorry so many times I'm beginning to feel insincere! Tell me Larsa! Tell me what damned bloody use am I to you?! Why am I here?!"
As always, Vaan expected to be ignored. After few seconds, Larsa's eyes blinked and finally locked a equally angry stare back at him.
"I will only talk to Basch." he sneered.
"Well he's not around! He's the one who swore to be your protector, but he's not here! I am! What can't you say to me that you could possibly say to him?"
"Penelo…"
Her name was whispered along with Larsa's breath so softly that Vaan didn't think he was supposed to hear. Vaan staggered back, his face contorted with confusion and when he collided with the wall, he sank down to the floor.
"Penny…." Vaan gasped.
Why had he forgotten her? He should never have let her go where he couldn't. Vaan was angry once more and his hands tore at his long blonde fringe. The world had been engulfed in a never ceasing night and Penelo had been separated from him, why did he let that happen?
"I can't be here." He moaned. "I have to be with her!"
"Quite right, Vaan. You are not the Emperor's protector, you must be with her."
Vaan looked up. He hadn't noticed Arla entering the room.
She had changed. In Dalmasca, the lady had been wearing a light lilac dress, patterned and embroidered with swirls of deeper purple, her long black hair had braided into a thick plat that wound around the crown of her head. Now she was dressed in black, tight and revealing, blazoned with red and her hair flowed round her shoulders in curled ringlets. However, more than just her attire had changed..
"Who should be here?" she asked, as she carried over a tray with some glasses of Dalmascan Iola. She set it down on the table and held her fingers up in air quotes. "Judge Gabranth?"
"Yes. He should be here."
"You mean, Captain Fon Ronsenberg."
"No…he's….he's dead." Vaan wasn't good at lying and Arla saw straight through that lie.
"Don't worry, Vaan. I know everything. I know that he took his brother's place and I know what Vayne did to him. Danver told me."
Danver. The fool.
Vaan climbed to his feet.
"He shouldn't have done that." Vaan's voice quivered in Arla's new presence. "The peace in Ivalice was kept because the Dalmascan people believed Basch killed the king and died for his crimes. They believe that the Archadians had no part in the King's murder…if they find out that it was an act of the Imperials and that wrongly accused man now serves the same House Solidor…."
"Oh don't worry." said Arla as she handed him a drink. "I won't tell anyone. I know that it would mean the end for Asheila's reign as well, but I am loyal to her. I made Danver swear not to tell anyone further. It is in everyone's best interests to make sure people still believe Basch is dead. Yet he should still be here."
"At least Larsa will talk to him."
Vaan yawned. The glass in his hand tipped.
"You are tired! Why don't you rest for a few minutes? I'll stay with the Emperor for a while."
"Are you sure you're okay with him?"
Arla nodded and took a seat next to Larsa. She laid her hand on his, Vaan never noticed the strain from Larsa as he tried to pull away from her grasp. He didn't see the fear in the young boy's eyes.
"Go, Vaan. We'll be fine."
Why did Vaan suddenly get the sensation that she wasn't being sincere?
Mosphoran Wasteland Year 707
The cage was too much. The stone walls were always around him so all he could do was to beat upon them with bloodied fists and spit swearing and seething bile to the one who had put him here.
"You bitch! I fucking hate you! I'm going to kill you! I'll fucking kill you!"
The black blood caked his hands as still they pounded on the stone, his face was spattered with it, his black amour was slick with it and all the walls were smeared with it.
The rage was taken out on this prison for many years, but foolish creatures came and dug deep into his domain. They had no idea that he would be here.
The first was a team of miners…certainly not fit enough to defeat him.
He smiled. He grabbed his sword and pushed some of his black stained hair from his face. There was no other colour to him now. Once he had been handsome, a tall strapping bulk of a man with blonde hair, now there was only blood on him. His. Soon he would bath in the life essence of others who dared to come close.
He approached the first man, who was cowering and shivering. He'd wet himself. But that didn't stop him from having a single fist crash through his neck and rip out his spine.
The others followed. Gaping holes were ripped and torn out of them, their screams giving him a sense of pleasure that he hadn't thought possible. For so long it had been his pain. Let others suffer.
Let this place run red with their blood.
There was the sound of an explosion. The ground shook.
Basch woke with a start, the violence of his and Zodiark's dreams had churned his stomach. He felt dizzy and sick, but the screams from outside the tent were more an immediate concern.
He fell off the bed as he got up too quickly and he began to rummage around for some clothes. He found only a pair of shin length thick brown shorts, so he scrambled to get them on.
Once on his feet, he rushed out and saw a sight not much different from his dreams. The Babbling Vale was filled with the bleeding wounded and the dying. But what had caused the crash, was in Basch's mind a shot down craft. Or a sky ship that had crashed landed nearby.
He looked all the way round and sure enough there was a smoke thicker than the black air. The people were panicked, children were crying , but no one seemed to be doing anything. Basch certainly wasn't going to stand around.
He started up towards the sloping path which would take him to the wreckage, but instead he got a punch to his face. It was hard, it would have sent him down, but he spun and gave his assailant the same in reply. Some of the shouting changed and Basch then felt hands grabbing at his arms.
Once again he was dragged to the ground and his face was shoved in the dirt, but instead of getting infuriated…that once again someone was taking their hate out on him…he heard the name being called and he couldn't help but smile.
"Jiiryn! Get over here! Now!" yelled the Seeq that had hit him.
It didn't take long. Lifting his face as much as he could from the dirt, he recognised the both of them. His vision was blurred from the punch, however, it was unmistakable to miss their very feminine scents. There was that deep beautiful sweet woody scent of the Viera, one he remembered from long ago. But it was the jasmine heavy aroma of Asheila that made his tense body relax in the arms of his captures. She was safe.
"Let him go!" Jiiryn ordered. "I said let him go!"
Basch felt the hands release him and he coughed as he raised his head from the ground. Looking up, he saw her.
Jiiryn. She hadn't changed a bit. She still looked as if he had met her all those years ago.
She held out her hand and he gladly accept her help. Her skin may have felt rougher, but it was that touch that made him grin like an idiot.
"Jiiryn….it is you."
"Like wise, Judge." she replied. "Glad you are up. The Queen is fine."
The grin faded into a meek smile. He bowed his head, but as Ashe came closer to him, to touch his hands, he began to tense. He stepped back away from her, before Ashe's hand could make contact with him.
"Majesty. I'm pleased you are well. I don't quite recall what occurred on the ship…but the fact you are safe is a relief."
The look of hurt in Ashe's eyes made Basch feel even more wretched. He couldn't be so friendly with her at this moment, he had to try and be her protector. The distance had to be kept.
"The ship…" Basch looked towards Jiiryn. "There maybe survivors."
"Possibly. We might not be able to spare many people. We have no healing potions, no elixirs or anything to save the wounded here…."
"I will go."
"No! Jiiryn! Don't let him! He's the one that did this to all of us! He killed Nalbina!"
Basch turned away from the women and saw that the people of the encampment, were like a mob as they closed in around him. They were angry, shouting and cursing Basch, crying murder and wanting justice. Some of them had weapons in their hands and they looked as if they wanted to use them.
"No! It wasn't him! You don't understand!" Jiiryn stood by Basch's side and held a hand out to keep them from getting too close. "This is the goddess' anger you are feeling! This black is Her doing! I will not let you kill or harm this man…do you hear me? This is a Judge Magister of Archades!"
Basch felt Ashe's fingers curl round his own, but Basch only pulled out of her hold and he deeply regretted it. He would loved to have held on to her, but his damned sense of duty wouldn't. Instinct and fear made him become cold to her once again.
"No!" A defiant voice came from the back. "He is no Judge! He is a murder! A traitor! That is Basch Fon Ronsenberg…killer of King Raminas! Murder of my uncle's squad."
Basch gazed at the many angry faces in the crowd. There was no one he recognised, until they all parted to allow the man to come to the front. He should have known. This man before him, had been in Low town and he was one of Vossler's team, a member of the resistance who had seen Basch return.
They had heard Basch's name. These people had not forgotten who the traitor captain was and they were only given a new excuse to harm him. The angry shouts became louder, Basch could see such hatred on their faces and their lust to grab hold of him and inflict their brand of justice.
"You trust me?!" Jiiryn cried, mainly to the soldier. "Have I ever let you down? Have I ever failed you?"
Some of the older people shook their heads, but most protested against her protecting him.
"I am telling you…that what you heard about the Captain is wrong! He was not responsible and he certainly isn't guilty of murder of the people of Nalbina!"
There were shouts of no and abusive calls towards Basch. Someone threw a thick heavy stick at him, but their aim was poor and it missed.
"Stop this!" Jiiryn cried in a firm voice. "If you don't want to think that he could be innocent of those crimes then fine! I will not have you rip him apart like animals when others still die!"
"He's the one who killed them!" screeched a woman. "He came with the Queen in his arms, enveloped by the black fire that burnt our home and Nalbina!"
"Then the wounded still need our help! Go them…give them your attention or else more will surely die! The ship that has crashed nearby may also have survivors, so I am going to allow him to go and render aid. I need someone to go with him…"
"You go, Jiiryn." said the solider as others refused to volunteer.
"You need me here!" she said.
"We do, but none of us could possibly stand to be around him at the moment. We're not so quick to trust him as you do. Go with him and we will look after everyone. The Viera as well."
"Thank you."
Jiiryn ushered Basch and Ashe away before anyone else decided against the soldier's decision. She gave a long sleeved mail shirt to Basch and a sword, Ashe took some supplies from the water vales and picked up a sword of her own. Jiiryn hooked a quiver of arrows and a bow over her shoulders. Then they headed off to the ship wreck.
As they walked, Basch thought of the old woman's words. He had carried the Queen here, in black fire? He recalled none of it. Guilt stabbed at him, Zodiark had used him once again and he had failed to stop him. People had died because of him and that was something Basch never wanted to happen.
"They would have killed you." Ashe said as she fell into step beside Basch.
"Possibly." Basch cringed, wishing that she wouldn't stand so close to him.
"I would not have allowed that to happen. You know that."
The weak smile drifted across his lips again.
"I know, majesty. I thank you for your support…always."
"Yet you won't allow me to…"
To hold you hand, to touch you. Get close to you.
"Your life is more important than mine."
Not to me.
Rabanastre Year….
"What have you done?" she asked.
"I did nothing. He tried to take his own life."
She didn't want to believe it, but she had known that it was true.
Being apart was painful and was always longer than the times they spent together. She had asked him to stay every night, she had begged him not to leave. Every morning he did, she would wake and there would be an empty space beside her..
The days, weeks and months that followed would be devastating. She would become a shell of a woman and she would isolate herself from all the others. This time was different.
He lay on the bed, now only sleeping, but his blood still stained the floor and the sheets. She curled up beside him, clutching his hand and stroking his brow and wrapping her legs around his.
"He should not be here, majesty. Don't you know that you risk the future of the children by continuing like this?"
She knew. Every time she slept with him, they knew of what they risked.
"Why do you do this to yourself? Why put yourself through all this agony? He's done this to stop it all. He done this to spare you!"
"So that I would find someone else?" she snapped. Her eyes darkened. "You?"
"You should be with me."
The smile on her face was evil.
"No. There can be no one else. There never will be."
"Then you will continue with this secret. Nothing will change and you will become so anguished that you will do as he did. Life wouldn't be worth living. I won't have you be like that."
She rose from the bed, not caring that her naked body was smeared with his blood. She approached the window and looked out on the city beneath her. It was despairing just as she was.
"You won't have me like that? No. You won't have me at all."