Chapter 9 In the Dungeon

Vaan was walking down a white corridor, he walked with purpose, he knew exactly

where to go and what he was here to do. He carried a bouquiet of red flowers in his right hand,

identical to those he had found in the Estersand. He finally stopped at a door identical to

it's fellows, he paused to consider what to say, then walked in. It was a simple room,

simple yet not unpleasant. White on every wall, a bright window on one side, a table

covered in medical equipment. And a chair, in the middle of the room. On that chair

sat the reason he was here. Slumped in the chair with a dead expression on his face,

sat Reks. Since the incident at Nalbina he hadn't spoken a word, in fact Vaan had never

seen him out of that chair. He tried to look cheerful as he approached.

"I brought you some of those flowers you like." He began nervously. No response. "Galbana

lillies, remember." He insisted desperately trying to gain something from those blank eyes.

"You always said how nice they smelled and how pretty they looked." Nothing. Vaan shook his

head, he needed an answer, that was the reason he was here. "In the plot against the king." He

stammered nervously. "Did you really... Were you really a part of it?" No response. Vaan lowered

his head, fighting back tears. "Even if..." He said, his voice cracking. "Even if you were." He ran round

the chair to face his brother. "Captain Ronsenburg must have tricked you into it!" He yelled, tears flowing

freely now. Then to his shock, Reks turned his head and smiled at him. Vaan rushed forward but even as

he did so, Reks began disolving into the air. By the time Vaan had reached him there was nothing left.

Vaan fell against the empty chair, weeping. After a while he realised that something was in his hand,

slowly he opened his fingers to reveal a ring. A ring made of the ice diamonds of Paramina,

his brother's ring. Vaan stared at it. It seemed to give him hope, the courage to fight the

Empire. Not in the way Reks had though, that way you could be betrayed and brought down

lower than you ever thought possible. Vaan closed his hand over the ring and closed his eyes.

Balthier took a long drink from the large skin beside him and used the drops to smooth

his hair, just because he was in prison was no reason not to keep up appearances. Suddenly

something groaned, Balthier looked suspiciously at his stomach, he hadn't eaten for

a while. But soon the source of the noise became clear. Vaan was stirring. Balthier picked up

a small stone and threw it at him. Vaan yelped as the stone struck his head, he looked around

and glared at Balthier.

"Your awake I see." Balthier said cheerily.

"Now I am!" Said Vaan indignantly rubbing his head. "What the hell happened to your vest thing?"

Balthier sighed. "If your refering to my armour then it was taken by the guards, along with most

everything." He gestured at Vaan's empty belt. Vaan stood up and surveyed the surroundings.

It was a run down building that looked like a cross between a castle and a cathedral.

"Where the hell are we anyway?" He asked.

"Prison," Quipped Balthier. "Where else? Well, more a dungeon but it's really much the same."

He was interupted by a piercing scream that rang through the complex. Balthier barely batted an eye

but Vaan leaped into the air right on top of a dead bangaa. He soon realised what he had jumped on

and quickly scurried away from the rotting remains. Balthier shook his head.

"Relax," He said firmly. "It's just a corpse, it can't hurt you." He looked at Vaan, still wound tight

as a spring, his eyes fixed on the corpse. "Jump at every little thing down here and

you'll tire yourself out." Balthier took a quick look around and scoffed.

"It's not even a proper dungeon, they just sealed off the bottom level of the fortress." He said sounding

dissapointed. Vaan had now calmed down enough to notice something was missing.

"Where's Fran?" He said, sounding worried. Balthier stretched and sat down.

"She's off trying to find us a way out." He yawned while pulling the waterskin from beside him. "This is

all the water we've got." Vaan looked out of the little alcove they were in to see a huge pool of

water in the center.

"What about that?" He pointed at the pool. Balthier looked, then shook his head.

"Drainage water," He drawled. "Unless of course you don't mind that, in which case be my guest."

Vaan walked about their little hideaway always getting closer and closer to the exit, Balthier noticed

his eagerness to get out.

"Remember what curiosity killed," He said sternly. "Just a word of advice." Vaan looked at

him scornfully, then walked out. Balthier was momentarily stunned, then he shook his head.

There was a fine line between bravery and stupidity. He went back to his thoughts. Normally

whenever a job went so horribly wrong he would look for the key points so he would learn from

those mistakes, but for the life of him he did everything perfectly. Even when the unexpected element of Vaan

entered the formula, everything was done perfectly. The only thing that didn't go right was the bike failing on them.

Mechanical failiure, unlikely. Skystone failiure, They'd just put in a new one. Balthier scowled trying

to recreate that night. He was there holding onto Vaan's hand dangling off the edge of the bike, the stone

was in his hand and... Yes, there was a trickle of light flowing into the stone in his other hand. The magicite

must have absorbed the energy from the skystone, but what kind of magicite absorbs energy rather

than emmit it. Balthier's eyes widened as a particularly loud and awkward penny dropped. No, it couldn't

be. His thoughts got no further however because a commotion was building outside to the point where he could

no longer concentrate. Fuming, Balthier walked to the entrance of his alcove to see 3 seeqs heading for the center

of the dungeon the prisoners seemed to have turned into an arena. He was just about to turn back in and sulk

until the noise stopped when he noticed the seeqs were dragging a kid, a very familliar kid behind them.

Vaan woke up with a sore head. This was the third time he had been unconcious this week, and it wasn't

getting even easier. It was made even harder when he noticed three seeqs were advancing on him and

the arena he was in didn't have a door. Above him a crowd of prisoners cheered, is this what they did

in their spare time he wondered, watch teenagers getting beaten too death. All the people he'd never

see again. He never bought Penelo that dinner.

"Something stinks in here alright." Everyone froze at the new voice that carried even over the roar

of the crowd. Only Vaan saw Balthier standing in the light looking like a hero from one of

Migelo's pirate stories. "I think I've changed my mind." He said, all tiredness and bordom gone.

Now bright flames blazed in his eyes. "This isn't a dungeon, it's a sty." The seeqs looked stupidly at

each other. Balthier gave an exasperated sigh. What was the point in insulting people if they were

too dumb to understand. "I said your the one who stinks hamshanks." He roared at the leader. "Hear

me now?" With that he leaped over the fence surrounding the ring and dropped down next to Vaan.

"You alright?" He said flatly. Vaan nodded. He still didn't understand how this helped, Balthier

couldn't hold off three seeqs alone and unarmed. It was only afterwards that he saw the strips

of iron from the alcove they were in wrapped around his hands. While the seeqs were scratching

their heads Balthier took the fight to them. With a swift punch to the jaw the first was lifted off his feet,

he fell to the floor with a dull crunch never once knowing what had hit him. Now the remaining two were

getting serious, they had no idea who this hume was but he had just decked one of them in one blow.

Fist raised, the second one charged but Balthier was ready for him. Sidestepping the charge he stuck

out his leg and promptly tripped the seeq to the floor. Before he could recover, he had been struck in

the neck by Balthier and was out cold. The third and final seeq picked up a deformed tree branch from

the sandy floor and swinging it round like a club took a swing at Balthier's head. Vaan could barely

look as the enormous lump of wood sailed through the air, only to be met by Balthier's fist. With the

added protection of his makeshift knuckles, the dead wood stood no chance. It was shattered into

pieces. The punch however kept on going and struck the seeq on the jaw, completely dislocating it. The

piglike creature stared blankly at his opponent for a while before promptly falling to the floor to join his

companions.

Silence, the whole arena was hushed. A single man had defeated three seeqs. Whispers broke out in the

crowd. Balthier groaned.

"So much for keeping a low profile." He muttered to himself. Suddenly another noise joined the chorus. The sound

of cranking gears and squeaking pullies, The noise of the elevator coming down. Prisoners scattered

as soldiers marched from the iron grills.

"Now would be a good time to disappear." Balthier hissed to Vaan. "Ah" He exclaimed cheerfully. "Perfect

timing." Vaan looked where he was pointing to see Fran by the gate in and out of the arena. Vaan quickly

made for the gate as she eased it open a little but as Balthier finished climbing through it something stopped him.

A voice, a rasping voice.

"Ba'Gamnan." He muttered. "Great, he never gives up." Vaan looked up to the top platform to see an enormous

green bangaa with many piercings over his body. His clothing was black and covered in weapons.

"Who the hell is that?" Said Vaan as he watched the creature argue with the commander of the soldiers.

"A head hunter." Said Balthier cooly. "Who seems to have taken a liking to my head." He was about to go on

but Fran stopped him.

"I think our troubles have just multiplied." She hissed. Vaan looked at where she was indicating, and imediatly

wished he hadn't. He had never seen one before but had heard enough stories to know one when he saw one.

Clad in resplendant golden armour, his black cape marked with house Solidor's crest flowing around him, a man

walked down the stairs to the dungeon. His helmet ornated to the highest level. His swords clinking at his hip.

This was no ordinary man. This was not even an Archadian elite or commander. This man was on another level

entirely. This man was a judge Magister.