Chapter 11 Setting things Straight

At the bottom of the shaft it was almost pitch black, what light there was came from

strange mushrooms growing on the wall, the haunting light they gave off illuminated

the broken cage that had fallen for over a mile before crashing in this alien place.

The first to stir was Basch. He rose slowly to his feet for the first time in two years,

his legs giving way at first but soon remembering their old strength. He walked around

and surveyed his rescuers. He needed to go now, to get free at last. But he couldn't

abandon them, unwilling as they were these people had saved him. He went to

the vierra first. She had taken the worst of the fall and her head was bleeding badly,

he woke her gently and sat her up, he wished he knew more of magick, perhaps

then he could help her. How shocked he was when with a few muttering breaths

her head was as good as new. He woke the pirate next, he woke less gracefully.

Like a drunk after a nights merriment, he complained and refused to fully wake

up for quite some time.

"Aaaaaaargh!" The silence of the darkness was shattered as Basch was knocked

off his feet by Vaan who slammed him into the floor and began punching him anywhere

he could reach. It was only then Balthier rose to his feet and caught one of Vaan's punches,

throwing him off Basch.

"Spare us your quiddities." He spat. Vaan glared up at him.

"Why'd you stop me?" He bellowed. "He's..."

"A traitor," Balthier cut across him. "I know. Stay here and fight if you want but some

of us need to escape here." He walked away from Vaan towards the doorway.

"If you can walk, let's go." He gestured towards Basch. Vaan jumped to his feet.

"Your taking him with us?" He yelled incredulously, Balthier shrugged.

"We could use a good sword arm." He said indifferently. Basch rose to his full height,

the cage stunted it and to see how tall he was shocked everyone.

"And you have it." He said quietly, fire dancing in his eyes.

Penelo walked down the high street thinking to herself, should she be worried about

Vaan? Could she trust this man? Why wasn't she doing anything? And why didn't

Vaan listen to her.

Penelo saw the soldiers knock Vaan unconsious with a batton, she could no longer

restrain herself.

"Vaan!" She screamed breaking through the line of soldiers that held her and

running towards her friend. Soldiers oved to intercept her but someone else got there first.

A slender man wearing Archadian dress who was in the same prison line as Vaan was

standing in front of her. Before she could say or do anything he thrust a hankerchief

into her hand.

"Hold onto this for me would you?" He said cheerily through a heavy accent. "Just until

I bring Vaan back." He winked at her before the guards led him away and she saw him

no more.

She held his hankerchief in her hand, this was the one hope she had of ever seeing Vaan

again. A man she'd never seen before. Things were looking grim, although she couldn't have

known exactly how grim things were going to become, for her and all of Ivalice. She was so

lost in thoughts that she ran right into a blue bangaa in her way.

"I'm so sorry," She began sounding flustered. But she stopped when she realised that the

bangaa wasn't moving. She looked up at the creature's face, it was looking right at her.

She was about to speak again when she noticed the bangaa was already speaking

under it's breath in some ancient tongue, she also noticed she was becoming very

sleepy. She tried to walk away but that seemed to take too much effort, her eyes drooped

and her head lolled. She lazily acknowledged the bangaa taking a large sack out of

his bag and placing it open on the ground, it placed a gigantic hand on her shoulder

and pushed her down onto the sack. She didn't bother to resist, nor did she when

the bangaa closed the sack around her and she fell into an enchanted sleep.

Nobody noticed the blue bangaa leaving the city with one extra sack that day,

but inside the sack even in her sleep, the hankerchief was still clutched in Penelo's

hand.

Vaan swung his sword from side to side as the creatures kept coming. They had run into

a group of insect creatures called mimics. Once caught, the hapless victims are decapitated

and their brains are sucked out. They had already past some of their victims earlier in the

passage from which Basche had scavenged some armour and a sword. As Vaan watched

Basche he couldn't help but admire his skill. He thought Balthier and Fran were capable fighters

in their own respect, but Basch was a one man army. As the mimics massed him again and again

his sword formed a web of steel around him moving too fast for any eye to follow. When he struck,

his sword neatly parted the insects armour plating and this was a man who had been locked in

a cage for years. Think how he was in his prime. Suddenly the mimics started quivering,

Balthier and Fran lowered their weapons and looked puzzled, Basch kept his sword up.

"Maybe that's it?" Vaan sugested hopefully. Then the tunnel shook from the force of a bellowing

roar. "Or not." He said sheepishly. From an side tunnel scuttled the biggest mimic Vaan had

yet seen down in the tunnels. It towered at least twenty feet tall and it's enormous pincers

clicked and buzzed as it surveyed it's prey. Fran drew her bow and instantly put an arrow

in it's face but that didn't stop it, it gathered it's momentum and charged the hapless humans.

Balthier fired off a few shots but even his gun wasn't enough to stop it. He barely had time to draw

the rapier he'd picked up before he was thrown aside by the creature. He crashed against the wall,

crumpled to the floor and lay still. Fran dashed forward as the creature descended to feed. She ran

the tunnel muttering as she went, each word laced with power beyond measure. Her voice rose as the

power within her reached it's height.

"...Materno draco Flaugrim!" She shrieked as from her outstretched hand came a great flaming dragon

which found it's mark on the soft underbelly of the mimic. It shrieked in pain but wasn't vanquished, slowly

it turned to face it's new opponent. Fran drew her short sword but was pushed back by none other than Basch.

"Stay back," He said gently. "Leave this to me."

"You underestimate me." She said testily but he silenced her.

"I have been in a cage for over two years." He growled. "I need to scrape off the rust." He walked past Fran

and approached the mimic calmly, Vaan wanted to tell him how stupid he was to take such a creature on alone

but as he opened his mouth, he felt something. Fran felt something. It was as though the entire tunnel was being

drawn into this one man. Basch, dressed in rags and weaker than he'd ever been in his life was blazing with

unimaginable power. In one motion he brought up his hands and between them a flame sparked, a green and

black flame which built into a roaring fire. For a moment time seemed to stand still, all Basch could hear was the

sound of his own breath, he paused, then released the magick. A blast of flame errupted from his hands into

the face of the oncoming mimic which shrieked and quivered as it withdrew its head from the flames. Both Fran

and Vaan gasped as they saw the creature's head, had been burnt to dust. Both looked at Basch as he sheathed

his sword and helped Balthier to his feet.

"Nice moves captain." He said weakily.

"You mean traitor." Vaan retorted flatly. Balthier ignored him. "And you." Vaan continued pointing at Basch. "What

was that?"

"The quickening." Fran answered simply. Vaan looked confused. She sighed and explained. "Normal magicks are

performed using the user's own energy, but to use magick requires training and practice. The quickening is a

natural defense mechanism built into our bodies that let's us instinctively use magick in times of great need using

not only your own energy but the energy from the very air around you. However some people," She gestured at Basch.

"Have through practice gained the ability to use it at will." Vaan looked slightly less confused but decided to agree.

"Such an amazing power is wasted on him." He said defiantly. "He's a traitor."

"So they say." Balthier said lightly. "But I didn't see him kill anyone, and he just saved my life." Vaan glared at Basch.

"My brother did." He said quietly. For the first time Basch looked directly at Vaan. Took in his appearance, and remembered

someone with him on the night of the King's death. Someone who was wearing the same ring.

"Reks." He breathed. "He said he had a brother 2 years younger. I see, he meant you." He looked uncomfortable.

"Your brother." He mumbled. "What became..."

"He's dead." Said Vaan quickly. Basch stared at the floor.

"I'm sorry." He murmered. Vaan started up at him.

"It was you who killed him!" He yelled. Basch raised his head to meet Vaan's

"I give you my word." He roared, then softened. "That was not the way of it."

Basch was running to the throne room, he was accompanied by 12 or so brave

soldiers made from survivors of the Nalbina attack and his own soldiers. Without doubt they must

reach the king before he signed the treaty or he would surely die. Already one of his youngest

soldiers had been left behind to fight a squad of soldiers by himself. There were the doors, almost there.

His rag tag squad burst through the doors.

"Your magesty..." Basche began, but something was wrong. The room was empty, the only figure left

in the room was the king, with a blade through his chest. Basch could barely contain himself,

they had failed. The king was dead and Dalmasca would soon fall. Suddenly he heard the clinking of

armour.

"Draw your weapons, it's a trap." He bellowed to his men who all obeyed just as hundreds of guards

burst in through every door, too many for a hundred knights to handle. Basch could only watch helplessly

as one by one his men were worn down and slaughtered. Until finally only he was left. He roared his defiance

into the sea of steel promising to take as many as he could with him into the void. He must have killed 200

they finally subdued him, Basch kept wondering why was he still alive. He had been caught and defeated,

why not kill him like the rest of his soldiers. And then he saw him, and it all came together. Basch lifted

his rugged face to see another identical face staring back at him. Wearing his armour and picking up his

sword from where it had fallen his brother smiled lightly at Basche before stepping out into the center of the room

while his men gagged and restrained Basch. The Dalmascan knight could only watch as Reks was stabbed and

betrayed while his reputation took the fall.

"A twin brother." Said Balthier when Basch had finished the sorry tale. "Fancy that. But still the pieces fit, I'll give

you that much. Vaan stood with his back firmly to Basch.

"I don't believe you." He said plainly. Basch rose to his feet.

"Of course you don't." He said gruffly. "It was my fault Reks was there. I am sorry." Vaan's fists clenched.

"My brother, he trusted you. He trusted you and he lost everything. How can I believe you?" Basch walked up

to him.

"Then don't." He said simply. "Believe in your brother. He was a fine soldier who fought to the last to protect

his homeland. No, surely he fought to protect his brother." Vaan turned on him.

"You don't know anything." He began, but Balthier cut across him.

"Believe what you want to," He said sternly. "Whatever it takes to make you happy." He walked a few shakey

steps down the tunnel. "In my opinion, whats done is done." He called back to them.

"Ah, you must be the scribe. Come on in." The Emporer Gramis Gana Solidor was not a fiercesome figure,

more the kind old man than the brutal conqueror most people thought he was. The new scribe was surprised

to recieve such an informal introduction. He was lead into a room with a large round table with six people sitting

round it, five of them in full plate armour. "Now you need to know who everyone is don't you?" Gramis asked,

the scribe nodded nervously. Gramis smiled. "Very well very well, this gentleman here is judge magister Zargabaath,

commander of our skyfleets." An old man with shoulder length grey hair stood up, he was as thin as a pencil

and his silver armour did little to bulk him out, and the helmet he carried under his arm had two enormous horns that

spiralled downward. He gave a low bow and sat down. "He's the oldest of our judges." Gramis explained. "Been here

since the founding of the order. This young lady over here is judge magister Drace, Admiral of our navy." A young woman

with shoulder length silver hair nodded her head curtly, her shining silver armour was most ornate, with baulballs prutuding

from it at odd angles. Her helmet had a pair of curled Ram's horns decorating it. "This is judge magister Bergan, our General."

Gramis continued. An enormous man in bronze and silver armour stood up, he had a warrior's face and a great mane of

golden hair. His helmet was decorated with many golden feathers. He walked right up to the scribe and shook him roughly by the hand.

"Pleasure." He growled grinning. Gramis smiled pleasantly.

"This is judge magister Ghis, our resident politician and expert on economics." A middle aged man with brown curled hair

stood up. He wore simple armour that was made of gold and red satin. His helmet was decorated by two short golden horns.

"How do you do." He said pleasantly.

"This is judge magister Gabranth." Gramis said gesturing towards the youngest at the table. "Our commander of spies and the

espionage network." Gabranth nodded, his armour clinking softly. "And this." Said Gramis finally. "Is doctor Cidolphus Demen Bunansa.

He is not a judge but certainly a kindred spirit." The scribe seemed a little overwhelmed to be introduced to all the judge

magisters in a few minutes. "Right." Said Gramis suddenly, "Let's get this meeting underway." Everyone sat back down as

Gramis took his place at the head of the table.

"Judges." He began. "I am going to die." At once there was an explosion of chatter throughout the table.

"Are you sure." Drace shouted over the noise. "Could you see the healers again. Gramis shook his old head.

"No, I guarantee you they will say the same thing I do now. I will be dead within the month." Silence fell. "And so."

Continued Gramis. "Before the senate get's their claws into this issue I want your opinion. Who do you think, should

be the next to rule Archadia."

Basch stood in the doorway, blinking in the sunlight. Fresh air, sunlight, like he hadn't felt in years. Yet why did it

all seem so alien to him? Had it really been so long?

"Hey." Called Balthier. "Are you coming or not?" Basch paused for a moment, and then stepped out of the

shadow of the door. The heat hit him like a wave and he let the sunlight dance across his pale skin, He breathed

the warm air.

"To think Dalmascan air could taste so sweet." He murmered. Balthier walked beside him.

"We're not out of this yet." He cautioned. "First we need to find out exactly where we are."

"Estersand." Everyone looked at Vaan who hadn't spoken a word for a while.

"Are you sure?" Said Balthier cautiously as he surveyed the desert. "All desert looks the same to me." Vaan shook

his head.

"No, it's the Estersand I'm sure of it." Not entirely convinced, Balthier strode towards the haze in the distance

which looked a little like Rabanastre.

"By your leave captain." He called to Basch who approached and nodded.

"The hour of my return is already late." He said solomnly. "The people may hate me, but that does not free me

of my charge."