Act Six: Alone, Again

"Stop!"

The voice echoed gently in Cecil's fog-filled head, as delicately as a single drop of rain splashing into a still spring. A scintillating rainbow ribbon of light wrapped itself around the piercing darkness hanging over his eyes, and he felt something warm and downy embrace his crippled body, like he had been lifted from a bed of shattered glass and laid to sleep in a feather-lined nest basking in sunshine.

This power… Cecil could feel his pulse fluttering back to life in his neck as the scream trapped in his throat croaked out as a wary moan. I've felt it before…warm, tender…nostalgic. It makes my heart ache and fill with longing all at once… He felt an immense pressure lift from his chest and heard the sound of clipped footsteps hurrying away from him.

Across the crystal chamber, paralyzed in the open doorway, stood Rosa, her hand slowly lowering as the lingering motes of light that had accompanied her Raise spell faded away on her fingertips. Her legs were quaking with the effort of using the very last of her mana to cast the spell – she had been thoroughly drained by her efforts to save the king after being summoned to his bedside. As she had frantically woven every spell possible to revive and stabilize him, she was informed by the queen that a cowardly knight dressed in emerald armor woven from dragon scales had initiated a sneak attack, gouging the king's ribs and making off with the key to the crystal chamber in the blink of an eye.

Behind her, Rydia was clutching her ice rod, biting her lip as her eyes silently swept over the chaos. When her gaze fell to Cecil's collapsed form, she felt her mouth parting in a scream before she could stop herself, but nothing came out.

"Rosa…" Kain lowered his lance as he approached her, shaking his head in disbelief as he eyed her up and down – was she really alive, or had one of the cursed monsters taken her form to trick him? "…You've been missing from Baron…I thought you were…"

Rosa!? Something in Cecil's core suddenly sparked to life, his eyes snapping open as a rush of throbbing pain in the back of his head welcomed him back to the world of the living. He could hardly make out a thing in the darkness, save for Edward kneeling to his left and Yang poised at the foot of the dais, his fists clenched as he kept his eyes trailed on Kain's retreating form.

"Don't move so fast," Edward whispered, clasping Cecil's hand around a potion and slowly guiding it to his mouth. "Drink this."

Where is she!? Cecil wanted to scream, but all that came out was a garbled wail as he choked back the potion. Someone, tell her to run away – to get as far away from this place as possible!

"Kain!" Rosa gasped, abandoning Rydia as she ignored her body's desperate pleas for respite and dashed into the chamber, a cascade of tears spilling and drawing the crystal's light to the sunken dark pink circles lining her eyes. She threw herself against him as her debilitated body surrendered to her fatigue, clutching his face in her hands to keep herself from slumping to the ground and forcing him to look at her. "Please, tell me you've not turned traitor!"

Kain bit his lip as he gazed upon her tear-stained, flushed face, her fingers burning like hot irons laid against his flesh – just seeing her moon over that simpering fool was enough to make him want to snap Cecil's neck right then and there – but something inside of him was urging him to draw her close, to never let her leave his sights again. He could feel his heart twisting as his gaze flicked between her innocent, pained stare and Cecil's pathetic, broken body that was still strewn against the pillar where Kain had left him.

Rosa…why are you crying for someone like him? Kain closed his eyes, gritting his teeth as he clutched his lance tighter. You were my companion first, nearly from the first day you drew breath – I'll never understand…never in a million years! Who's the real traitor here?

"Urgh…Don't…look at me!" Kain finally hissed, roughly shoving Rosa to the floor with his free hand and turning back to Cecil. "I have business to finish…"

"Kain!" Rosa shrieked, scrambling to her hands and knees to make a dive for his ankle. He kicked her hand away like one would a piece of rubbish in the street, twirling his lance as Cecil tiredly lifted his head, jaw clenched as the fallen blur of pink and white Kain was stomping past refused to come into focus. Even so, he would recognize that shape anywhere…

Rosa…! I'm begging you…RUN!

"You'll do nothing!" Yang warned, side-stepping in front of Cecil as he curled his fists. Edward reared back, still clutching Cecil's arm. "Leave this place now, before the choice is made for you."

"This doesn't involve you," Kain hissed, nimbly dodging as Yang threw his fist and returning the favor by slamming the butt of the lance into Yang's stomach, reducing him to a gasping heap on the floor. He nonchalantly shoved Yang out of his path with his foot, eyes narrowing as he drank in Edward's shaking form and Cecil's drained stare.

"Kain, I'm sorry…" Cecil moaned, weakly pushing Edward aside as he dragged himself up the length of the pillar, every cell in his body screaming with the effort as he stumbled to his knees. Rosa's spell had been enough to lift him from the fringes of death, but he had no power left of his own to sustain her magic – Edward's medicine had barely granted him coherence.

I've no choice… I've got to buy Yang, Edward and Rosa some time so they can escape…

"I beg of you – leave the others out of this. They've done you no harm. I…I didn't wish to abandon you. So much has happened – but I swear on my very soul that there was never a moment that you weren't on my mind…never a morning or night that I wasn't praying you were safe."

"You're 'sorry'?" Kain smirked, the glare of his weapon's head in the crystal's light, stained with Cecil's blood, igniting a delectable spark of terror in those abhorrent cerulean eyes. "Is that what you think this is all about? As usual, you haven't the faintest inkling of what's happening in that self-centered, pathetic universe of yours. If you think for even a moment that a mournful prayer coming from the likes of you actually means anything to me – then you're even blinder than I thought. Fitting, I suppose, for a creature of darkness – a mutt that cannot even be loyal to the king who gave him everything."

W-What…? Cecil gasped, and Kain's face broke out into a twisted smile as he lifted the lance in the air, a single drop of blood curving down the blade and splattering along the crystalline tile as he aimed it over Cecil's head. Cecil cringed and closed his eyes, clutching the pillar and swallowing the scream that had risen in his throat. The will to flight back any longer had wholly evaporated – he was so very tired, and even just existing had become a torment the darkness that had been scarcely sustaining him could no longer preserve.

Kain…I still don't understand…

But if killing me is the only means of repenting for the sins I've unwittingly laid against my dearest brother…my king…my world…

…Then I can only pray my blood is the panacea for your suffering.

But seconds that felt as long as an hour each passed with no further pain, no final freefall into the darkness that was lapping anxiously at the shores of his consciousness, ready to consume him whole. Cecil forced himself to open one eye, his heart jumping in his throat when he saw Kain's lance hovering only inches from his forehead.

But it had been suspended in mid-air, the blade shuddering in place as if someone had cast a time-warping spell upon it. Cecil's gaze followed the length of the weapon to Kain, who was frozen above him, his mouth agape and his eyes as round as saucers – the light had left his gaze, making Cecil feel as if Kain were staring through him and not directly at him.

It was only as the crystal silently turned to shed its light upon them that Cecil noticed a delicate trail of translucent white tumbling down the length of Kain's eye to his jaw, razing the accumulated grime of their battle. Cecil could feel his own eyes watering as he sank further to the floor, his fist clenching as it traced over slivers of broken glass that cut through his gauntlets.

Kain...!

"Kain! Why do you now hesitate?"

A staggering figure had blocked the light shining through the open doorway to the crystal chamber, blanketing Cecil and Kain in a spill of gloom that shattered the interim respite between them. The shadow drifted forward as if floating, Rydia holding her breath and silently darting away to a corner so that she would not be seen. Kain pulled his weapon back against his chest, spinning around in surprise and unintentionally giving Cecil an unobstructed view of the new arrival.

Another one of Baron's freakish monsters come to finish the job? Cecil frowned.

But his suspicions were incorrect – it was a living barge of a man.

He had to have been at least six and a half feet tall, his body swathed in black armor from head to toe. His only feature not drenched in obsidian were the glowing yellow orbs shining from the inside his helmet like newly-polished topaz. Crowning the helmet were two protruding, grotesque black horns that nearly reached the ceiling. A black leather cape dragged on the floor as he strode in metal-cased, spiked boots, yet his footfalls made nary a sound. Cecil could see that his gauntlets were lined with onyx, and the tips of his fingers were sharpened into fine, bloodied points. Extending a slender, claw-like hand, he made a sweeping gesture trailing from Kain's lance down to Cecil, chuckling under his breath as Cecil's eyes narrowed. "Is this one giving you some trouble?"

His voice was as rich as velvet and strangely serene, just a hint of amusement dripping from each clipped word. He was already imagining the inexorable joy that would course through his veins when his fingers would be able to wrap around this disgraced knight's lithe neck and sever the last threads of life that had not yet been sundered by his dear friend. In fact, he could practically taste it…

Cecil sucked in the air between his clenched teeth and blinked the blood seeping from his head injuries out of his eyes. Behind him, he could hear Edward shaking like a leaf, the prince's teeth chattering like a wind-up toy.

A figure clad in armor of deepest night…

Of course…

"You must be Golbez, the usurper," Cecil hissed. Despite not being able to see the man's face, Cecil somehow knew he was being sneered at as if he were something on the bottom of a shoe.

"And you are Cecil, the traitor, I presume," Golbez replied. "I've been anxious to meet you, but I'm afraid our visit will need to be cut short." He turned to Kain, who was staring dead-eyed at the two of them, his jaw twitching. Golbez shook his head, chuckling again as his gaze swept back to Cecil. "Lest you think I'm inconsiderate, allow me to give you something – a gift to remember me by." He raised his hand, which had begun to crackle with an ominous purple current that glided up and down his impossibly long fingers.

This Golbez…he too, wields darkness, Cecil gasped. I'd know that power anywhere… He winced as he pushed himself away from the pillar, throwing himself over Edward's body to shield him from the attack before his legs had the opportunity to fail him.

"Cecil!" Edward cried, squirming as he feebly tried to shove Cecil off of him. "Leave me and run…!"

"Let me through!" Yang barked, leaping to his feet and shoving his way between Golbez and Cecil as he plowed his fist into the side of Golbez's helmet with a savage right hook. Golbez didn't even pretend to flinch, instead thrusting his glowing palm directly against Yang's chest as he offered a clandestine half-smile he knew they would never live to see.

"I did not come to treat with worms."

The last thing Cecil saw was an explosion of ultraviolet light engulfing Yang before everything went black. An immense wave of dark energy washed over the entire room, time-space distortions twisting the Crystal of Wind's radiance into tattered ribbons of smoky dusk. Yang was thrown into Cecil and Edward, their bodies scattered across the foot of the dais by his seizing form. Cecil felt his head slam into something hard, the numbness spreading through his limbs like frostbite, making him feel as if gravity itself was trying to drag him into hell through the floor. Edward and Yang were knocked senseless even before their bodies could land, each slumping to the floor in a dead heap of limbs.

Rydia was frozen stiff in the draping shadows, horror etched in her eyes as she watched the strongest men she had ever known crumble to nothing one by one. Rosa could hardly manage the strength to lift her head, her sobs lodged in her throat as a fountain of tears spilled over the crystalline tile. Only Kain and Golbez remained standing as the dark mist dissipated around them, unawares of the little stranger watching them.

"Enough of this foolishness," Golbez purred, thoroughly bored that everything had ended so quickly – he hadn't even gotten to watch the light leave any of those puny insects' eyes. "Bring me the crystal."

"M'lord," Kain bowed his head slightly and turned, climbing up the staircase and casually stepping over Cecil's still body to reach the top of the dais.

"Don't do it, Kain!" Rosa suddenly screamed, crawling to her knees as her lungs rattled with each pained gasp for air – the drain on her lifeforce from her depleted mana made it felt as if someone had driven a knife into her chest. Kain paused on the last step of the dais and stared at her, his lips twisting into a strained grimace. She dared to stare right back, her breath caught in her throat, as the hand he extended toward the crystal shuddered, his fingers twitching as they curled into a fist.

"I-I…!"

"Rosa, let it be!" Cecil moaned as he struggled to open his eyes. He could feel a straining swell of fluid bridging along his nose and forehead that was making it impossible to summon any strength to his facial muscles – he was beginning to suspect a stair had broken his fall, along with the entirety of his face. If Kain snapped and attacked her, there would simply be no way she would survive it. Golbez looked over his shoulder at the mousy girl strewn across the floor, raising an eyebrow.

This boy just won't seem to die – wonder if he has a little motivation left inside him yet…?

"Oh, you care for this one, do you? Then let me take her along as well. To hold in trust until we are graced with the chance to meet again." Golbez suddenly teleported to Rosa's side, ensnaring her upper arm within his claw and lifting her up from the floor like a ragdoll. Rosa cried out and tried to jerk away, but her efforts were as meaningless as a rodent who had already been cinched under the hammer of a trap. Golbez tilted his head as she sniveled and screamed Cecil's name, beckoning idly with his other hand.

"Come, Kain."

"Rosa…!" Cecil whimpered, his eyes slitting open just as Rosa's flailing hand was swallowed by impenetrable darkness – Golbez had dragged her away in a pulsing portal of black-violet light before she could even finish her scream. Kain snapped out of his reverie and snatched the Crystal of Wind, tucking it under his arm and offering a curt nod to Cecil as he leapt over his body and landed at the foot of the dais with a delicate "ting". Cecil's abandoned shadowblade, which had been warped into a disfigured, brittle tangle of steel by Golbez's dark magic, snapped cleanly in half as Kain smashed the butt of his lance against the hilt. He smiled slightly as Cecil's uncomprehending gaze fell to the desecrated weapon, cocking a hand on his hip.

"It would seem your life is spared…for now." He turned away and leapt in the air, disappearing in a flash of the same light that had taken Golbez and Rosa before reaching the crystal chamber ceiling.

"Kain…wait…urgh…" Cecil's moans transformed into a choking cough as he spat blood and clenched his fists, spasms rocking his torn tendons. "GOD DAMNIT!"

Rydia bit her lip as she emerged from her hiding place, skittering up to the fallen men. She glanced over her shoulder just to make positively sure that Golbez and Kain were gone, and that no more horrible surprises were going to come barreling through the crystal chamber doors. Satisfied, she raised her arms in the air, calling out "Cure!". A shower of glittering light sprinkled over the three still men, and Cecil felt a slight rise of strength flood his chest, though he still could not convince his arms or legs to obey him. Edward and Yang slowly struggled awake, Yang the first of them to rise as he rubbed the back of his head and suddenly noticed how dark the room had gotten. When he glared up at the empty crystal dais, the mournful wail that escaped his lips made Rydia shiver with despair.

"Are you all right?" she asked hesitantly, her eyes darting to each one of them. The answer seemed obvious, but she felt compelled to say something.

"Yes, thank you Rydia," Edward mumbled, looking down as he propped himself up against the dais. "Thank the gods you are safe, little one. But now they have Rosa…"

"And we could not even defend the crystal," Yang lamented, slamming his fist against his other hand.

"Rosa…" Cecil murmured. I can't believe it…you're really gone. You were standing before me just a second ago…and now…

He closed his eyes again, stifling a sob.

And I've no one to blame but myself. Everything I did – no matter how excruciating the effort – it wasn't enough to save you. Everything awful that I said – that abhorrent promise I begged you to keep…!

…What was I thinking!?

Rydia crossed her arms as she stared at them in dismay – she was about five seconds away from giving them all a fierce whack on the head with her ice rod.

"What's wrong with you? They took Rosa, but they didn't hurt her. We just need to rescue her! And the crystal – we can take it back, too!"

Cecil had barely comprehended what she said – he was still staring at the dais steps, watching disinterestedly as a bead of blood slid down his jaw and splashed onto his ghostly reflection in the tile. Edward smiled slightly, despite the tears pooling in his eyes. "Rydia's right, of course. We can get everything back that was stolen away."

Yang nodded, sighing as he turned away from the empty dais. "It's my turn to help you, Cecil. Let us heal our wounds, and think of a way we might free Rosa."

"Yes…Thank you," Cecil whispered, looking away. As he replayed Rosa's screams over and over in his mind, he could feel a powerful wave of nausea rolling over his consciousness, crushing what middling strength Rydia's spell had gifted him.

When he stumbled down the dais steps, a pair of stalwart hands caught him before he could crash to the floor.

"Save your breath. I'm not doing this for you."

Cecil was back in Mist, staring bewilderedly at Kain as the fires rising ever-higher around them consumed everything in their path. His best friend was glaring down at him pointedly, and Cecil could see his half-smile slowly transforming into a wry sneer beneath the draping shadows of his dragon's maw helmet.

The familiar, humiliating blush took hold of Cecil's face once again, and he could hear the surge of blood invading his ears as his pulse quickened.

Ask him 'why?'! Cecil could hear his consciousness screaming over the roar of the flames. He's your brother!

But his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, and the acrid smoke that was multiplying by the second had penetrated his nose and his throat, burning his voice away to ash.

Not again… Cecil pleaded, closing his stinging eyes as he turned away. Don't make me relive losing Kain all over again! Everything I should have said…should have done…it's too late now.

Suddenly, a tiny growl erupted from behind, and Cecil's eyes opened just in time for him to see Rydia, who had been clinging to her mother's body, launch herself like a stalking Cait Sith going for the kill at Kain's waist. The dragoon, not expecting the surprise attack, stumbled backward under the girl's weight, crashing to the ground as Rydia frantically brought her fists upon his helmet in a blur of tears and screams.

"Rydia!" Cecil gasped, grabbing hold of her and trying to pry her off of Kain. "Stop! What in god's name are you doing?"

But Rydia clung to Kain for dear life as he recoiled helplessly beneath her and Cecil, cursing under his breath when her little fingers sprung the latches of his helmet and knocked it off. It rolled heedlessly to the edge of the pond, plunking beneath the boiling water as Kain hissed menacingly and managed to throw the girl off of him, his hair falling loose away from his shadow-lined eyes and revealing twin trails of bloody tears crawling down his cheeks.

"Kain!" Cecil gasped, kneeling at his friend's side as he frantically checked for a wound. "W-What happened…?"

Rydia rolled over onto her belly from where she had been tossed away, bearing her teeth as she pointed accusingly at Kain's flashing glare.

"Is this justice!?"

"Kain…!"

"C-Cecil! Are you awake…?"

Cecil's eyes fluttered open, his senses instantly assaulted by a stinging beam of sunshine that seemed to be purposely shining directly in his face from the staggering windows across the way. He couldn't help but groan as he shielded his eyes, blinking away the pulsing white dots that danced before him as his vision slowly came back into focus.

The first thing he noticed was that his armor had been stripped away – his bare hands were lined with white cracks of dry, peeling skin over his calluses, and his bare chest was wrapped across one shoulder with gauze – Golbez's dark magic must have left more of a mark than he had thought. With the way his head had been splitting after Kain had had his turn with him, he supposed it was no wonder he hadn't noticed the way the rest of his body was falling apart. His fingers gingerly brushed over another wrap of gauze around his forehead that was tied underneath his hair – Kain's haunting glower hovering above him, his weapon poised precisely between Cecil's eyes, filled his vision as his hand fell limply back into his lap.

The clenching ache that had fractured Cecil's heart throughout their duel racked his chest all over again.

When he finally willed himself to blink, Kain's visage disappeared. He found himself staring at the stone ceiling of what could have only been a bedchamber in Fabul – he could just barely recognize the same rich redwood crossbeams that had been bowing threateningly above them when they had made their stand in the antechamber. He heard the rustle of fabric from his right, and turned his head, only to see Rydia standing before him, her palms pressed against his mattress. She looked as if she had leapt right out of his dream – her hair was frizzy and matted against her head in knotted clumps, and her eyes wild with panic.

"Hello," Cecil's voice cracked – the simplistic greeting did nothing to convey his shock of actually seeing her live in the flesh, seemingly perfectly healthy, but he had blurted out the first thing his still-cloudy mind coughed up for him. He thought he could remember hearing Rydia's voice in the crystal chamber – but after Rosa had been spirited away, he had no longer been able to tell what was real-life and what was delusion brought on by the incomprehensible pain of Golbez's "parting gift", as he had so charmingly called it.

In fact, he wasn't entirely sure at that moment that he was actually still alive, himself.

"Hi," Rydia breathed, a lock of hair falling in her eyes as she leaned in closer. "Did you have a nightmare? You were screaming in your sleep. I called for you, but you wouldn't wake up."

Am I not living in one right now?

Cecil nodded in reply, wondering if Rydia had somehow invaded his bizarre attempt to rewrite his memories because she had been there with him, and he had subconsciously heard her voice. Now that he thought about it, hadn't Rosa had said the same odd thing as Rydia in his dreams before he had found her bedridden in Kaipo?

"Is this justice…?"

The throbbing in his head returned with a vengeance when he tried to recall any of the details of the already-dissipating nightmare, wondering what the hell it all meant. Rydia watched as the tendons in his arms clenched, and bit her lip.

"You've been sleeping for three days."

"Wha…what!?" Cecil gasped, suddenly bolting upright and regretting it immediately as a sequence of sharp pains shot down his spine – it felt as if someone was playing his vertebrae like a piano, but their fingers were made of knives. "Ahhhh!"

"Please don't move so quickly!" Rydia warned, rushing to the bed a few feet away from his and grabbing some pillows to prop behind him. As he hesitantly sank into the fluffy down, he could feel Rydia's scent wash over him like the spray from a waterfall – a faint mix of morning dew and the worn leather of her sandals. He winced as lifted his chin, noticing her backpack hanging half-open from the now pillow-less bed's post.

"You've been here with me?"

"The whole time," Rydia mumbled, her cheeks staining pink as she stepped back. "The white mages said it was a wonder you were still alive when Yang carried you out of the crystal chamber. I told those two I would watch over you until you woke up." Her eyes began to well up with tears, and she sniffed loudly.

"Rydia…" Cecil shook his head, reaching for her hand. "It's all right…there's no need for tears."

"It-It's NOT!" Rydia gasped, clenching her eyes shut as her voice rose higher and higher. "I promised you I would protect Rosa, and I lied – I didn't do a thing. When Golbez came...I just froze in terror! If I had summoned Chocobo…or cast a spell…had done something…!"

"Stop, I beg of you," Cecil whispered, his hand finally finding hers and grasping hold of her fingers, even as she tried to squirm away. Is that why she stayed by my side? Because she felt guilty about what transpired? "You did the right thing by keeping yourself safe. If anything had happened to you – or Chocobo – I would have never been able to forgive myself." He tilted his head, frowning. "Did I dream it, or did you not tell us we could get Rosa and the crystal back?"

"I…um…" Rydia looked down. "…I did, but…"

"Then that is what we shall do," Cecil pressed, even though he hardly believed they could actually do either of those things. He would have said anything at that point to get Rydia to stop crying – he felt as if he were on the brink of tears himself as it was. "Rydia, you are but a child – it was terrible of me to make you feel responsible for Rosa."

A child! Rydia sniffled, chewing on her lip. So, because I'm not a grown-up, I can't protect my friends? Why should any of that matter!?

"It was no one's fault what happened – save for mine. If I hadn't made the decision to take her to Fabul, then perhaps…"

"…Then nothing," a hoarse voice cut in, the door to the bedchamber creaking open. Edward's diminutive frame greeted them, his harp tucked under his arm. His hair was damp and lank, pulled into a clump of tarnished gold over one shoulder, and his complexion as pale as ever, but he admittedly looked better than when Cecil had met him in Damcyan. Had Yang not taken the brunt of Golbez's attack, Cecil wondered if either he or Edward would be here right now. Edward stepped inside, the slope of his clenched jaw giving just the slightest hint of his aristocratic breeding.

"Had you been given the chance to do it all over again, you would have done nothing of the sort, so stop berating yourself."

"Edward!" Cecil blinked, taken aback by the prince's forceful tone. Had the world reversed its very orbit while he had been asleep? "You're all right…"

"That's my line," Edward smiled slightly, his sudden toughness evaporating with a loud, gasping cough into the crook of his arm that nearly knocked him over.

"The white mages said you shouldn't be wandering about, either," Rydia frowned. "Doesn't anyone listen around here?"

That's rich, coming from her, Cecil mused, falling deeper back against the pillows. He was more grateful than Edward would ever know for the distraction from his self-inflicted distress thanks to the impromptu reunion.

"I was just stepping outside for some air," Edward huffed. "And that's when I heard your voices." He pointedly turned away from Rydia, and Cecil would have laughed at how offended he looked by the little girl's glower if it didn't feel like his lungs were about to collapse from the weight of his suppressed sobs. "Shall I fetch Yang? He's been anxious for news about your recovery."

"Please do," Cecil nodded. As much as he wasn't looking forward to it, he owed Yang a very lengthy explanation about everything that had happened…best to just get it over with so that he could go back to feeling sorry for himself. As Edward turned to go back down the hall, Rydia pulled her hand away from Cecil's, slinking back to her bed as she glanced at him over her shoulder.

"Cecil…"

"Yes?"

"No matter what happens, you're still going to let me come with you, right? You're not going to leave me behind…?" She chewed harder on her lip. "I-I don't want to be alone!" Like poor Rosa is now…!

Cecil shook his head, lowering his gaze. Who was he to say that he knew what was best for anyone, anymore…? Edward was right – if he could turn back time and start over, he still didn't think he could honestly say he would have left Rosa behind in Kaipo. Having her by his side – even kept at arm's length – had been the panacea he didn't realize he had needed until it had been ripped away.

"Rydia…we'll do whatever you want."

"…Humph," Rydia sniffled, flopping onto her bed – he realized right away that had been perhaps the least comforting thing he could say. Cecil sighed, burying his now-splitting head in his hands.

Rydia – I swear to you – none of this is your fault! He stared through his fingers at the perspiration-stained sheets pooled in his lap, gritting his teeth. If…If Rosa were here…she would know the right thing to say… But now I've lost her, again.

A sand pearl cannot dissipate a threat like Golbez. This is a man who thinks nothing of murdering entire nations at a clip – and I've barely survived my only encounter with him. Will he think nothing of harming her, as long as it's a means of getting under my skin? It should be a comfort to me that at least Kain is by her side, and yet…

Rosa's voice had seemed to do something to Kain in the crystal chamber, however temporary. But until three days prior, Cecil would have never imagined a world where Kain's lance would be poised to pierce his heart as readily as he would hunt a monster turned upon the streets of Baron. And if Cecil couldn't understand what he had done to enrage Kain to the point of amicicide – what did that really mean for Rosa's safety?

But what Cecil couldn't figure out, most frustratingly of all, was why Golbez hated him so much in the first place to steal Kain and Rosa away. After all, he had been Cecil's successor to the Red Wings. How did he even know that Cecil existed, if the king had declared him dead?

In the crystal chamber…I swear I heard Kain lament that Rosa had not been seen in Baron. Did that mean he returned after the quake? Did the king or Golbez tell him something that made him turn against me…?

"Cecil, you are awake!"

Cecil lifted his head as Yang strode into the room, Edward a few paces behind. As Edward closed the door behind them, Yang sat on the edge of Cecil's bed, looking every bit as energetic as he had on the eve of their battles – Cecil couldn't make out even a single scratch on his person.

It used to be that I could recover so easily as well…but ever since the incident in Mist…

Edward sat across from Yang and Cecil on Rydia's bed, and she crawled up next to him. Yang turned back to Cecil, pressing his lips together as if to not make it too obvious how surprised he was that a man who had been sleeping for three days straight still looked so…well, rough. "Do you feel up to strategizing?"

"To take back the crystal?" Cecil asked, and Yang nodded.

"Of course. And to rescue Rosa."

"Very well. It will do me good to focus on something other than this incessant pain," Cecil sighed, carefully folding his arms across his chest as to not agitate his body any further. "If we're to take on Golbez, we'll need an airship. But the only man who knows how to build one is in Baron – Cid Pollendina, the kingdom's chief engineer."

"And he would help us?" Edward frowned. Cecil thought about what he would have normally considered a throwaway question if he had been asked during any other crisis, but finally nodded, gently tapping his finger against his arm. He recalled Cid's distaste at His Majesty's request to build more warships the night he had arrived home from stealing the Crystal of Water.

"…Yes. I'm fairly positive that should not be an issue based on our last meeting."

Edward didn't really like the way Cecil's voice trembled when he replied, but said nothing.

"Is there no way we can enter the kingdom?" Yang asked. "I imagine it will be very difficult to cross the border with everything that has been happening these past few days."

"The Red Wings comprise the brunt of Baron's power," Cecil explained. "But its maritime forces are relatively weak. If we go, we go by sea."

"Then we need a boat," Rydia pointed out. "Edward's hovercraft won't do the trick."

"I will ask His Highness to lend us one on the morrow," Yang offered. "You've done much for him, and for our kingdom. It was not evident in the eve of our defeat, but our intervention against the Red Wings' treachery spared countless people – if we hadn't been able to evacuate as thoroughly as we did, many more lives would have been lost. In addition," he looked to Rydia, who was staring at Cecil despondently, "…It's come to my attention that Rosa and Rydia's white magic saved the king's life. He will not refuse such a simple plea."

Damnation, Cecil thought, clenching his jaw. So, my suspicions were correct…it was Kain who attacked the king in order to acquire the key to the chamber. But at least he managed to survive… As much as Cecil wanted to argue about just how much they had really done for Fabul – they had lost the crystal after all, had they not? – he resisted. "Thank you," he finally sighed, lifting his gaze. And speaking of Kain…

"That dragoon… Who was he?" Yang asked, as if reading Cecil's mind. Rydia pressed her fingers to her lips, closing her eyes – the look on Cecil's face was enough to shatter her heart right then and there, and she simply couldn't bear to look anymore.

But Cecil's voice was calm, almost robotic as his eyes met Yang's. "His name is Kain Highwind, commander of the Dragoons. He is – or was – my best friend. We'd sworn to fight Baron together after we had made our escape. But we got separated shortly after meeting Rydia…this was the first I had seen of him since."

"I see," Yang murmured, looking away. "I am sorry…"

Cecil shook his head. "Please don't apologize…what's done is done."

"And Rosa knew him too?" Edward asked. He seemed to remember her mentioning Kain at least once or twice when they had spoken – and she certainly looked familiar enough with him when she had come running into the chamber…

Cecil pressed his lips together. "Yes, we three grew up together."

"I see…" Edward stared up at the ceiling, uncrossing his legs as he flopped back onto his elbows on the bed. So…his suspicions had not been entirely unfounded. "He seemed to act strangely with Rosa, didn't he? His eyes…something within transformed when she called his name."

"What do you mean?" Cecil blinked. He had been so out of it that he had hardly noticed a thing.

"I saw that as well," Yang said softly. "Something about that man's chi…it was almost…poisonous. But there were brief periods of time where his aura would shift and suddenly take on another form…similarly to how one is purified by white magic. But shortly after, it would revert back as if nothing had happened."

"Chi?" Cecil shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Chi is another way of describing one's lifeforce, or essence," Yang explained. "It is, inevitably, what makes us ourselves. And like any living thing, it can be damaged. Damage it too extensively, and it may never regenerate to its prior state."

"And Kain's…chi…was poisonous?"

"That's the best way I can describe it," Yang said softly, hoping he had not caused offense. "It's like same the same effect as mixing oil with water. They remain separate entities, with the oil rising to the top, but you're no longer able to drink from the glass."

"It might not have even been Kain at all," Rydia whimpered. Chi, auras…similar concepts existed in the art of summoning. She hadn't gotten a good read on Kain's aura when they had first met, because she had been so enraged, but felt that even she would have picked up on such sadistic vibes in such close proximity, had he been exhibiting them at the time. In the crystal chamber, there had been so much toxic chaos abundant in the air that her mind had been paralyzed along with her body.

Cecil ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes. "No…regardless of how he was acting…the man before me was undoubtedly Kain Highwind. That's the only thing I can be sure about from that night."

The four of them fell silent, Rydia, Edward and Yang exchanging pained glances over Cecil's bowed head. What was supposed to have been a rousing pep rally to plot their next move against Golbez had gone very south, very quickly. Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the door, and an acolyte let himself in, nodding his head slightly as an apology for the intrusion. Rydia noticed a blood-stained wrap peeking out of the waist of his gi, and realized he may not have been able to bow like Yang's students seemed accustomed to doing – her heart began to hurt all over again at just the thought of the other men like him who had been dragged to the infirmary during the siege as she and Rosa had raced from bed to bed. It had gone unsaid between them, but the entire time, Rydia knew that she and Rosa cradled the fear in their hearts that the next man to be laid out before them could have been Cecil, or any of the others…

"Master Yang, here you are! Lady Sheila has been asking for you."

"Ah, really?" Yang's eyes suddenly took on a cheerful light that made everyone in the room unwittingly wince, like they had inadvertently stared directly at the sun – it was just so…un-Yang-like. "Thank you for the message – if you should see her, tell her I will be there shortly." The monk nodded again and turned to leave, closing the door behind him with a soft "click". Yang practically leapt to his feet, slapping his palms together. "I think we could all do with a change of scenery. Shall we go meet with my wife?"

"Your wife?" Cecil asked, blinking. Yang was married? Had he missed something?

"Yes, her name is Sheila Leiden," Yang replied, amused at the look of surprise on Cecil's face. "I am sorry I neglected to mention her earlier. But I have not seen her since we returned from Mount Hobs, so if I do not visit her before we depart again, I'm afraid she may get…well, a little violent." He chuckled, although Cecil wasn't sure if he was telling a joke or not.

"You haven't seen your wife in all this time?" Edward raised an eyebrow. "And she lives here, in the castle?"

"Of course," Yang nodded. "But she knows how things can get with my training and such – we have an understanding."

"Training," Cecil deadpanned. "You've been training these past few days?"

"What better time?" Yang blinked. "Honing one's frustrations with the world into bettering yourself is certainly more productive than moping about like a ghost, right?"

Cecil, Edward and Rydia shot each other a look of disbelief that Yang mistook for apprehension.

"I can understand you not wanting to leave bed, but my wife does make an amazing fried chocobo egg," Yang smiled. "And we will need our strength before we go. She'll be excited to meet the brave men who fought alongside me."

"AND brave women!" Rydia pouted.

I am on the brink of famished, Cecil thought, his stomach clenching anxiously at the thought of solid food. If he had been lying in bed for the entirety of this time, it meant he was being kept sustained on potions and white magic alone – no wonder he still felt like hell. "I'll come, of course," Cecil said, slowly pushing his blankets off and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He was expecting something to ache when his feet touched the cold limestone beneath, but a surprisingly relaxing shiver ran up his spine from having his legs finally get a proper stretching – it felt as if he had just had the best yawn of his life.

Rydia hopped off her bed, racing to the small dresser where Cecil's clothes and armor had been stored away and coming back with his tunic and doublet, both freshly laundered and folded by an anonymous kind soul within the castle, along with his boots. Luckily, whoever had been nursing him had had the good sense to leave his pants on.

"Thanks, Rydia," Cecil smiled slightly, taking the clothes from her outstretched hands. He was still worried for her residual guilt about the encounter with Golbez, but for now was going to take advantage of the 'change of scenery' as Yang called it. He vowed that would try to talk to her again later, when they could be alone, and perhaps then he would have better sense to not make things worse. "I can manage from here."

"Are you sure?" Edward asked concernedly. Cecil nodded, clasping his clothes to his chest – he suddenly felt a lot more naked and vulnerable than he preferred – he wasn't used to such steadfast attention from people he barely knew, and could feel his inherent shyness starting to settle back in.

"I'm not going to keel over and die – I promise. If I don't come out in ten minutes, then you can sound the alarms."

Once Cecil had gotten dressed and taken a lap around the bedchamber to ensure he would actually be able to take the short trip to their next destination, they followed Yang out of what he had discovered was the castle's inn and all the way to the top of a twisting tower in the western wing of the castle, which required them to cut through the village. In the light of day, and with three sleeps since disaster had struck, the destruction to Fabul did not seem as catastrophic as it had felt in the heat of battle while they had fled from danger deeper into the castle's depths. Certainly, there were many villagers and uniformed acolytes that had either gotten lucky or only sustained minor injuries outside of shops and homes making repairs, but absolutely no comparison could be drawn between the fates of Fabul and Damcyan. It was no wonder the king had felt they were fortunate in the battle's outcome.

Before they had even reached the entryway to Yang's quarters, the door swung open, and a tall, heavily suntanned woman materialized before them, violet hair tucked in a bun so messy that most of the hair was out of it rather than in. She had a heart-shaped face with full, apple-like cheeks, and one of the more…abundant busts Cecil had ever seen pouring out of a yellow peasant top. He found himself quickly averting his gaze, his blood making a mad dash for his face. Under her purple skirts, she was bare-footed, each toenail varnished to perfection in an elegant gold hue that brought out the honey undertones of her complexion. Her gray eyes narrowed as she took in the scene in front of her, her fingers curling tighter and tighter around the broom in her hand.

"Yang! Oh, you're all right!" she chirped in a falsetto that made Cecil's stomach flip-flop. He didn't pretend to know much – well, anything – about women, but even he realized that something didn't seem quite right here.

"Hello, honey!" Yang said cheerfully, leaning in for a kiss. The woman pulled back and immediately swung at Yang's head with her broom, missing narrowly as he ducked with only seconds to spare.

"YANG FANG LEIDEN!" She bellowed, her face turning red. "Where have you been? I've been worried sick!"

"I know dear, I'm sorry," Yang smiled as if she hadn't just tried to decapitate him, poking his head in again to steal a quick kiss as she turned and stomped into their quarters, muttering and hanging her broom up against a wall. Cecil, Edward and Rydia could only bring themselves to stare at Yang as he laughed and followed her in like an eager puppy, gesturing for them to come along.

"This must be Sheila," Edward said quietly.

"They have 'an understanding', huh…?" Cecil blanched.

"So, the king musta been keepin' you busy if you haven't come home for three days," Sheila said as she went over to a whistling tea kettle on a stove and began to pull down cups from a shelf hanging above an impressive rack of cutlery and cooking supplies. Frighteningly enough, her tone had completely gone back to normal.

"Yes, I'm afraid morale has been down quite a bit, so I've tried to lead as many spiritual honing sessions as possible," Yang replied, gesturing for Cecil and the others to sit down at the table. "It's actually been very beneficial for those laid up in the infirmary – the white mages tell me everyone has been sleeping better since they started meditating more."

Cecil pulled out a chair and sat quietly as Yang took a stack of plates and began to distribute them around the table. Rydia climbed into the chair next to Cecil, practically drooling at the scents that were rolling off of Sheila's stove, and Edward sat across from them, nervously glancing over his shoulder every few moments to ensure Sheila wasn't going to suddenly break into another fit and accidently drop a kettle on his head. Cecil found himself wishing Rosa or Kain could have seen this – it almost felt as if they had stumbled into an alternate reality where Cecil had a semblance of a normal family and they were sitting down for a proper dinner together. Sheila began to pour cups of hot tea, setting a new one down on the table after each pour with a delicate grace that made Cecil wonder if she had suddenly switched places with a twin.

"Well, I'm just glad you are all right," Sheila said, setting down the last tea cup and gesturing for Yang to sit down along with them. "Although I see the dark knight here took a couple of knocks to the head."

Word spreads fast, Cecil thought. Now I'm just the dark knight that betrayed his kingdom and still managed to somehow get this kingdom's crystal stolen.

"It is truly all thanks to these brave people that I am with you now," Yang pressed his hands together, bowing toward a blushing Cecil, Edward and Rydia as he introduced them each by name. "They saved me, and Fabul."

"Then ya'all have my eternal gratitude," Sheila beamed over her shoulder at them as she miraculously flipped an egg in her frying pan that landed perfectly without looking. "Thank you…"

"And you? You're unhurt?" Yang countered anxiously.

"Of course, I'm unhurt!" Sheila laughed and waved her hand as if to dismiss the notion, turning back to her cooking. "Whose wife do you think I am? A few soldiers tried to bust their way in, but I busted them right back out – with my fryin' pan!" After some frenzied chopping with a spatula, she pulled the pan off the stove and began to walk around the table, scraping fried eggs topped with glistening green onions onto each plate. "But…are the rumors true? I hear you are goin' on the road again…" She reached up, flicking a tear away from her eye, and scraped the last of the eggs onto Yang's plate before replacing the frying pan on the stove. Yang stood up from his chair and embraced her tightly from behind as Cecil flushed, staring down at his food throughout the entire exchange.

So that was why Yang was anxious to know when I woke up – he's had it in his head all this time that he was going to help me.

What could I have possibly done to deserve such kindness from a stranger, when my dearest friend hates me now?

"I'll be back before you know it," Yang promised. "This is something that I need to do. But in the meantime, I need you to watch over Fabul for me."

"Who the hell do ya think you're talkin' to?" Sheila sniffled, shoving him away and waving him off again. "Now, eat up, all of you. We can say our good-byes when the time comes. For now – I don't want to hear nothin' else but the smacking of lips and requests for seconds!"

Cecil took a big bite, choking down the lump that had formed in his throat as he swallowed. Anna and Edward, Yang and Sheila, Rydia and her mother…

…I won't let Golbez take anything else away from these people.

After lunch, Sheila insisted that she fuss over Rydia while the men spoke to the king. "Such a tiny thing!" Sheila exclaimed as Yang, Cecil, and Edward prepared to make their leave. "Absolutely no reason for you to be going along with them, dear. Clearly, between the three of them, they can't even keep you from looking like a hooligan." She pulled out a hair brush and tried to run it through Rydia's ratty curls, which made her squirm in her chair and let out a whimper when the brush got stuck.

"Ma'am, I must go," Rydia protested as she desperately reached for Cecil. "I'm the only summoner they have!" He could only shoot her a sympathetic look as he waved good-bye – he had been relieved when Sheila had offered to watch over the girl while they secured a ship for their upcoming journey. Rydia, whether she understood it or not, needed some time to just be a normal kid – and if that meant being forced to take a bath and hating it like any other child would, then so be it. Yang chuckled and closed the door behind them just as Rydia unleashed another protesting shriek.

"You wouldn't know it from a first glance, but Sheila has amazing maternal instincts," Yang said. "She's going to make a fine mother someday."

"Er…yes, I'm sure," Edward replied, looking away and pretending something fascinating was on the ceiling.

"I find that Sheila and I balance each other out accordingly," Yang sighed dreamily. "Really, there is no finer woman in Fabul. I'm the luckiest man in the world."

"Is the king truly well enough for us to burden him with this request?" Cecil asked, hoping for a rapid change of subject. It wasn't that he was afraid of facing the king – but no matter how grateful Yang claimed Fabul was for the outcome of the battle, it was still going to be humiliating coming face to face with the man whose kingdom he had failed – especially after he hadn't initially believed Cecil about the threat in the first place.

"He grows stronger every day," Yang nodded. "Also, he's asked specifically for you, Cecil – he'll be especially glad to see you're on your feet again. I think he's been anxious to talk to you about something."

"Huh…?" Cecil didn't quite know how to feel about that – but it was too late now.

When they reached the king's suite of chambers, they were first announced by the monk guarding the way before being permitted inside. Yang, Cecil and Edward walked into the second of several spacious rooms, plush carpeting sinking under their boots. The king was sitting up in a gigantic four-poster bed, the queen sitting next to him and reading from a book out loud. The curtains over the picture window next to the bed had been drawn back, and sunlight poured into the room. The queen paused her reading and closed the book as they lined up beside the bed, smiling and nodding in greeting. Yang, Cecil and Edward took a simultaneous bow, rising when the king subtly turned his palm toward the dyed-navy canopy hanging over his bed. Despite the recently-changed bandages wound tightly around the king's ribcage and arms, he spoke heartily and without hesitation for breath.

"Master Yang, Prince Edward, and Lord Cecil – thank you for coming to see me. I'm relieved to see that you are all on the road to recovery from the terrible wounds you sustained in battle – and Fabul heals alongside you."

"Your concern is appreciated," Yang nodded. "But Your Highness, we do come with a request."

"Please, Yang – do not hesitate to speak."

Yang explained the plan they had come up with to infiltrate Baron and subsequently acquire an airship using Cecil's contact that would allow them to better track Golbez's – and the crystals' – whereabouts. When he had finished, the king merely nodded, pensively stroking the stubble that had sprouted over his chin that he had not been bothered with shaving in the days since his assault.

"Very well. I will see that a ship is readied for you without delay so that you may leave first thing tomorrow morning. Yang, you will go with them and aid them in any way you can, understood?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Yang nodded, bowing again. "Consider it done."

The king sighed, lifting his gaze toward Cecil. Cecil could feel his spine straightening itself tighter, despite the twinge of pain that accompanied proper protocol. Sheila's lunch had done wonders for his stamina, but what he really needed was a miracle – or precious time to heal that they simply didn't have.

"Young lord of Baron, there are no words of gratitude for such a sacrifice as you have made. You defended my people selflessly, and lost Lady Rosa for it."

"I…" Cecil trailed off, slowly shaking his head when he realized he had nothing competent to say in reply. That hadn't quite been what he had been expecting to hear, even if Yang had told him otherwise – and he was more jarred than he expected hearing someone else acknowledge Rosa's disappearance.

It just made his nightmare all the more real…

The king raised his hand, and Cecil fell silent as he continued. "Please…I want you to have this."

The queen stood up, taking a package wrapped in brown paper from a dresser and handing it to Cecil as the king was speaking. He turned in surprise, flushing as his arms bowed slightly from the unexpected weight as the queen released her hold on it.

"What is this, Your Highness?" Cecil questioned, turning it over in his hands until he located the delicate bit of white string that held the paper together.

"Go on and open it, young lord," the queen replied for him, and Cecil pulled at the string, undoing the knot with one tug. As it fell away, a sturdy hematite blade was revealed with a delicate curve that just brushed the ends of his fingertips. The hilt was a fine silver and encrusted with radiant-cut sapphires and rubies. As Cecil twisted the sword in the sunlight, he could make out the words from an ancient language inscribed in a scrawling scarlet script on the side of the blade. However, he had no idea what they read – but even the curves of the letters themselves looked dangerous, glimmering in the reflection of Cecil's darkened gaze like fresh blood.

"This sword belonged to a dark knight who once visited these lands – he called it the Deathbringer, and it's been held in trust since it was gifted to my ancestors long, long ago. I would like you to consider it a token of my thanks, for your valiant efforts in the defense of my kingdom."

"Your Highness…" Cecil inhaled softly. It was truly a magnificent sword, that much he could see. As he tilted it slightly, he could see motes of purple light shimmering in the opaque tip of the blade – he could practically feel the sword's dark energy coursing through his marrow, granting him a sudden surge of strength he had feared he might never possess again – not after what Kain and Golbez had done to him. With a blade like this, maybe they really could get Rosa and the crystals back. "My thanks is not enough…"

"But I give you this with a warning," the king frowned, lowering his tone and staring directly at Cecil, who remained enraptured by the possibilities the blade had suddenly made available to them. "A dark sword will never avail you against true evil. It is, after all, a weapon of darkness."

Cecil tore his gaze away from sword and looked down at the king. His Highness's remark shook something inside his core that made his heart sink like a leaden stone – it was hard not to recall the blood-soaked blackout he had experienced in the antechamber, and the subsequent devastating wave of darkness Golbez had unleashed upon them before the crystal had been stolen. In effect, the two attacks had been one and the same, had they not…?

Had I been able to surrender to that power again…would that have been enough to drive away Golbez? What would I have needed to sacrifice in return? My mind and body, again? Or a price higher yet…?

"Beyond this, you will have to rely on the strength that already lies within you," the king continued, leaning back and closing his eyes as a wave of exhaustion suddenly washed over him. "Please, stop Golbez…"

"My liege," the queen said softly, reaching up with a damp cloth and dabbing it on the king's forehead. "Do not waste your energy worrying, dear. They will be all right." The king groaned in response and sank back deeper into the bed.

"Should Golbez obtain all the crystals, this world will face catastrophe such as it has never known. I trust you will not let that happen."

"We will not fail, Your Highness!" Yang said, bowing deeply. "Rest easy for the time being."

"Be well soon, Your Highness," Edward added.

"Have a blessed journey," the queen said, bowing her head. "Remember, when you've made ready tomorrow morn, head to the eastern pier. A ship will lie at anchor there, waiting to bear you onward."

"Thank you," Cecil whispered, returning the wrapping to the blade and turning away to follow Yang and Edward out, the king's warning hanging heavily on his heart. If he could train himself to be able to control the darkness again, especially with a blade like this – there would surely be no doubt about their victory. But his body's tolerance for the darkness had only continued to decline since his return from Mysidia, and his frightening bursts of strength during the fight for Fabul's crystal had taken his failings to a different level. Now, instead of his body rejecting the darkness that had once sustained him and feeling his strength steadily leech away as a result, it was almost as if his body was rejecting himself – Cecil Harvey – undergoing a quiet transformation to become a vessel for the building dark energy that had nowhere else to go…

…Were his own body and soul now at odds?

Sheila had had so much fun with Rydia (and Rydia seemed to have warmed up to Sheila, once she had gone through a torturous round of grooming and gotten to do more fun stuff, like painting their nails, gossip and helping to cook dinner), that over their evening meal, Rydia announced that she would be spending the night in Yang and Sheila's suite for their last night in Fabul.

"…If that's OK," Rydia added, looking directly at Cecil. Cecil blinked, setting down his fork. He had thought tonight might be good for their heart-to-heart – he had decided to push his concerns about the king's parting gift into the back of his mind and make sure Rydia was doing OK with what was to come – but he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit relishing in the idea of collapsing into bed when this was all over and having a full night's sleep unburdened by anything stupid he would inevitably say.

"Of course, it's OK by me, if that's what makes you happy – but you really should be asking Yang."

"My answer is the same," Yang smiled. "Whatever makes you two happy. I wasn't planning on spending the night anyway – there's far too many lesson plans I have to plan for the acolytes while I am away. I think I'd be less of a distraction if I took care of that in the training halls, don't you agree, Sheila?"

"The gods would be merciful if you didn't keep me up all night with your mutterings and blazing candlelight. This sweet girl shouldn't be gallivanting about with a bunch of young men in the same bedchamber, anyway – it's vulgar. Rydia also tells me you don't make her wash her face at night, Cecil."

"And there you have it," Yang nodded. "Win-win."

"W-Wait, what?" Cecil stammered. "Is that something I am supposed to be doing?"

"Well do you want me to have bad skin?" a freshly-scrubbed Rydia pouted, and Cecil sighed, sinking down in his chair.

"How did this all come back to me…?"

Edward leaned in, whispering as Cecil sullenly stabbed a spear of broccoli.

"Women are vexing creatures no matter their age. I daresay if the gods had seen me to be blessed with a daughter, I would have been equal parts joyous and terrified."

For once, Cecil found himself in total agreement with Edward about something.

The next morning, Cecil awoke from a blissfully dream and nightmare-free sleep, almost feeling normal – or at least his current definition of 'normal' – again. The constant, dull ache in his chest had been replaced by a renewed vigor that Cecil realized was a daring inkling of hope. Hope that Cid was willing to take up their cause, hope that an airship of their own would even their advantages in battle, hope that no matter where she was, Rosa's gossamer-thin hold on Kain's sanity was what was keeping her safe from whatever plans Golbez had for her while she was "kept in trust".

As he reached for the Deathbringer, which had remained in its wrappings on the dresser since he had brought it back from the king's room, Cecil's eyes darted to his mutilated shadowblade, which someone – probably well-meaning Yang – had retrieved from the crystal chamber and laid to rest next to his bed. It hadn't been an illusion – Kain had really cut the weapon in two – the hilt was missing a few ornamental gems of no consequence, probably blown away by Golbez's attack and never to be found again. The blade was warped beyond repair – without a master to temper the teeming dark energy it had once been cast within, it had transformed into an utterly ordinary heap of scrap metal.

I've no doubt Kain left this for me as a message, Cecil frowned, sliding the Deathbringer with a definitive "click" into the scabbard hanging from his hip. His shadowblade had been a gift from the king when Cecil had successfully completed his trial to become a full-fledged Red Wing – and it had solidified the covenant between the two men that Cecil would ultimately fulfil Baron's wishes and become a dark knight.

It was the last token of their relationship that Cecil had received – and his betrayal to his homeland ensured that there would be no more forthcoming for the rest of his days – limited as they might be.

I must renew my efforts to temper the darkness within, Cecil silently vowed, turning away and reaching for his helmet. The king warned that a dark blade cannot conquer true evil – but if I can only call upon the strength I need to save my friends, it should be enough not to send me over the edge…right? I don't care what happens to me in the end – as long as Kain, Rosa, Rydia and the others can have the happy future I tried to steal away…that's all I want anymore.

Edward was the last to arrive at their rendezvous point, a rear gate in the castle that was primarily used for the importing of goods that came in via the harbor. Yang raised his hand to him in greeting while simultaneously ordering the guard to proceed with lowering the short drawbridge that would allow them access to the docks.

"I've been informed Sheila and Rydia are already waiting for us," Yang smiled. "It's a perfect day for sailing – I daresay we'll make good time even with the weakened wind."

Cecil pulled his helmet on over his head as they approached the harbor. As promised, one of Fabul's finest vessels was awaiting their arrival, a cog ship with a heavy oaken hull and a single mast that proudly bared a square sail emblazoned with the Fabulian crest. Cecil could hear the crew barreling all over the ship with last-minute preparations before take-off, and every few moments, a sailor would bound up or down lowered gangplank to fetch something, each of them bowing to Yang cheerfully as they ran past. Sheila was standing at the edge of the dock with Rydia, who was dolled up with her curls piled into a ponytail at the crown of her head and a pink, heart-shaped lacquer hairpin that sparkled in the sun. She waved eagerly to the men as they came over, her backpack bouncing and now packed full of goodies, and Sheila put her hands on her hips, eyeing Yang up and down.

"All I'm gonna say is that you'd best be careful and make me proud! Show them what you're made of!"

"I will," Yang smiled.

"You too, Cecil!" Sheila said.

"Of course." Cecil couldn't help but smile himself – her enthusiasm was contagious.

"I trust you'll handle things here while I'm away," Yang said, and leaned in, giving Sheila a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, don't you worry about that!" Sheila huffed, and suddenly let out a gasp, spinning toward Rydia. "Heavens, I almost forgot! Rydia, give Yang what we were working on together last night." Rydia's eyes widened and she swung her backpack off one of her shoulders, holding it steady against her torso as she dug inside. A few moments later, she procured a pair of garish orange cotton pants that looked as if they had been reclaimed from a circus tent, with multi-colored stars randomly sewn all over, and held them up to Yang. Yang laughed appreciatingly and unfurled them for the others to experience in all their glory – although Cecil was pretty sure you could see pants as obnoxiously colored as that from the moon.

"I love them, Sheila! I daresay, these might be my new favorite slacks to train in."

His new favorite? Cecil winced, suddenly realizing where the "smiley face" pants Yang had been wearing when they first met had undoubtedly come from. Gods, this man really DOES love his wife.

"They look…comfortable," Edward offered.

"You can never have too many changes of pants while at sea," Sheila nodded – sage advice, Cecil supposed, even if he had never heard it before. "I've been saving them for a special occasion, but…what better occasion is there than kicking some Baronian arse?" Her eyes apologetically flashed toward Cecil. "No offense."

"None taken," he blushed.

Rydia gave Sheila a quick hug before returning the sanctuary of a party which she knew contained no hairbrushes on their person. She had enjoyed the change of pace by being Sheila's doll for a little while, but enough was enough – she didn't need to look cute for an airship heist.

"Take care of yourself, you hear?" She kissed Yang one more time, this time full on the mouth in front of the entire harbor, Yang turning tomato-red as Rydia let out an awkward, high-pitched giggle.

"Bye!" Edward smiled, and everyone waved one last time as they boarded the ship. The captain approached Yang and introduced himself, quickly running over the proposed route and asking if they were ready to go. Yang nodded, giving the captain an appreciative slap on the back, and with that, the order was given for them to ship out.

"Best not linger any longer. Anchors aweigh, boys!"

"Aye-aye, Captain!" the crew shouted in unison, and everyone began to take their places, like actors in a play scrambling backstage before the curtain rose. Before Cecil knew it, the ship had started to slowly inch away from the harbor, and with a dramatic rush of air, the sail fully unfurled, snapping crisply against the sea breeze. Sheila ran to the edge of the dock, waving until the ship had pulled away and was long out of sight.

After the excitement of their successful departure had died down and the crew began to settle in for the trip, the captain approached the group again, clasping his hands together.

"So, you're Lord Cecil, then, eh? Heard all about ye!"

"It's a pleasure," Cecil bowed his head. "I can't emphasize how thankful I am that you were able to pull this together so quickly."

The captain laughed at Cecil's formality – the lords of other nations sure were tightly wound, weren't they? "Rest easy. We'll be laying anchor in Baron before you know it! If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Thank you," Yang said, and the captain left to resume his post. He gestured for Cecil, Rydia and Edward to follow him to a more secluded spot on the deck for talking, wandering to the shady area cast by the shadow of the looming aftercastle. When it had been confirmed that they were alone as they could possibly be on a ship full of crewmen, Yang lowered his voice. He hated to be so paranoid among his own men, but now that he knew what Baron was capable of with the monsters that were under their control, he wanted to risk nothing going wrong. As far as the captain or anyone else knew, they were being sent to Baron as envoys in the wake of the attacks to try to negotiate a peace treaty for Lady Rosa's safe return. Only Sheila, the king and the queen knew the truth of their visit.

"Cecil, what do you mean to do when we reach Baron?"

Cecil leaned in closer, flipping open his visor. "First, we must find Cid, the engineer of Baron's airship fleet that I told you about earlier. He normally works in the castle, but he has a residence in the village with his daughter, Amelia. I would advise we avoid the castle until I can get a good read of the situation – Amelia should be able to brief us and find a way to get hold of Cid if he is not home."

"Then let us hope Cid and Amelia are still safe," Yang sighed, and Cecil nodded. He had been thinking the same exact thing. He could count on one hand the number of people he would actually trust with the knowledge that he was, in fact, still alive – if something had happened to either Cid or Amelia in his absence, Cecil was about out of options for where he could turn next.

Meanwhile, while they had been talking, Rydia's gaze had wandered over to Edward, who was pursing his lips together and shivering noticeably beneath his many layers of clothing.

"Are you cold?" Rydia asked softly. "You're shaking."

"No, it's nothing." Edward shook his head. Indeed, it wasn't very cold at all – even in the shade, the cloudless sky's sun still was hard at work toasting the deck to an almost uncomfortable heat. Rydia tugged on his cape, not accepting his first answer.

"Then whatever is wrong?"

"I just feel…strange," Edward said, and flushed. "You'll laugh at me, but it's the same feeling I had right before Baron attacked Fabul – all of a sudden, I felt this dread chill wash over me. At the time, I thought it was just because I had been drowning in rain – but it's certainly not raining now, is it?"

"Strange?" Rydia blinked. "If that's the case, why don't you go into the galleon and rest?"

"Er…on second thought, perhaps I am getting seasick," Edward shook his head, patting Rydia's shoulder dismissively as he rushed away for the ledge of the deck. Rydia's jaw twitched as Cecil and Yang stopped talking and watched Edward walk away, his shoulders hunching as he wrapped his cape around him tighter.

"If he's sick, he shouldn't be out here," Rydia frowned. "Yang, make him go downstairs – you can just throw him over your shoulder, right?"

"We forget that Edward is perhaps a bit more delicate," Yang said slowly. "We're all still recovering from that night – let us not forget to practice patience." Cecil said nothing as he kept his eyes locked on Edward, watching as the prince folded his arms and leaned over the ship, closing his eyes miserably. Rydia was about to protest – patience was for the birds! – when the ship began to shake so violently that several sailors stumbled and fell to the deck at once. Rydia shrieked, Yang catching hold of her just before she took a digger flat on her face.

"Whoa!" Cecil cried, bracing himself against the rising stern wall. "What the hell was that?"

A guttural roar came from the waters beneath them, the deck boards vibrating ominously as the ship lurched into another sharp heave that resulted in another chorus of confused shouting and trampling feet. A sailor collapsed his scope, screaming into the wind from the crow's nest situated at the top of the cog's mast and frantically ringing the cast-iron warning bell whose chimes tore their way across the peaceful blue sky.

"It's HIM!"

"Who?" Rydia cried, clinging to Yang's leg. Edward had collapsed to his knees from the second round of quakes, peering up at the crow's nest with wide eyes as his hat blew off and bounced across the deck before catching on another gust and plunging into the ocean. A tidal wave crashed starboard, flooding the deck with salty foaming water that raced for Cecil and the others before violently charging in the opposite direction from the ship being tossed again.

"Impossible…the tales are true!" another sailor cried, leaping down from the stern. "It's the Lord of All Waters!"

"...Who – or what – is the Lord of All Waters?" Cecil gasped, Yang grabbing hold of his arm as the three of them began to tumble backwards.

"Leviathan!" the captain cried from across the deck, his finger jutting in the direction the tidal wave had emerged.

The ship shuddered again, and the rest of the standing crew members began to run around in a panic to secure anything that wasn't nailed down. Cecil could make out a writhing shadow slowly rising out of the ocean next to the ship, a spray of seafoam blinding him as another tidal wave crashed upon them, this time directly smashing into the stern above. It looked like a cross between a dragon and a snake, milky-blue scales blinding in the sun and giving the beast a reflective element that made it nearly impossible to stare at it head-on. As its serpentine neck thrashed back and forth against the backdrop of the still-perfectly calm sky, ruby-red eyes blinked beneath transparent lids and focused their attention on the ship's single mast. Its large maw opened, and a blast of sticky, putrid breath assaulted the sail, followed by an ear-piercing cry.

"Don't stand about!" the captain shouted from his post, the ship reeling backwards from the sudden squall. "Reef the sails, ye witless dogs!" Cecil could only watch helplessly as Leviathan barreled toward the ship, ramming its head into the bow. Rydia let out a scream as the jolt made her lose her grip on Yang, tossing her into the undertow of the subsequent tidal wave that clawed its way across the deck.

"AHHHHHHH!"

"Rydia!" Cecil cried, the ship suddenly tottering so steeply that they were practically turned onto one side. Rydia's head disappeared beneath the thrashing water as the wave sloshed overboard, relinquishing her to the ocean's churning waves. Cecil and Yang's mouths filled with water as they desperately clawed their way back up the deck, the ship righting itself just as Cecil's leg painfully smashed through one of the wooden posts that made up the railing.

"I'm going after her!" Yang cried, kicking off his water-logged shoes and climbing to his feet as Cecil tried to yank his foot free from the remains of the splintered wood, cursing under his breath.

"Wait!" Cecil gasped, coughing up a burning lung-full of the brackish seawater. "It's too…!"

But his warning went unheeded, and the last thing he saw before another crushing blur of blue engulfed his senses was Yang swan-diving off the side of the ship, slicing cleanly through the water and disappearing into a spreading basin of darkness that was bubbling near the ocean's surface.

"No!" Cecil screamed, the water muffling his voice as he finally managed to kick his foot free, propelling himself blindly for the surface until the wave drained away and he felt the treasured burn of oxygen stinging his salt-reddened eyes. As quickly as he could manage, he shimmied his way up treacherously slippery deck, grabbing hold of a post and hauling himself upright as he watched a trail of red weep from his torn-up left foot. The darkness beneath the ship was growing wider by the second, and Cecil could feel the ship's frame scream in protest as a resonance of violent cracking rose in the air.

"Rydia! Yang!" Cecil screamed again, his voice swallowed by the roar of the ocean as the ship began to twist sideways, tilting dangerously toward the beckoning shadow. Leviathan was circling the ship silently, its unblinking crimson orbs the only part of him Cecil could see while the creature sliced effortlessly through the raging water.

Wait… Cecil gritted his teeth and attempted to pull himself higher on the post, ignoring the shooting pain in his foot as he tried to get a better view. As Leviathan swam into his sights yet again, this time on the very outside arch of the widening darkness, Cecil realized that it wasn't a shadow at all – it was a gaping pit, with water swirling into its depths at an alarming rate.

A whirlpool! Cecil felt his blood turn to ice as the ship suddenly twirled in a semi-circle that had him moments away from losing his breakfast. Right where Rydia and Yang…! He unleashed a string of curses and spun around, wondering if he could find a rope, or a cord – anything – to tie to the post so he could dive in after them. But instead, he found Edward's collapsed body, half-washed up against a stack of crates that had fallen on top of his back and legs. A trickle of blood was splayed across his forehead, and his eyes were twitching erratically beneath nearly-transparent lids.

"Edward!" Cecil decided to abandon his first plan for the time being and braced himself for just the right moment the ship would right itself, albeit temporarily, from its trip around the whirlpool. As soon as his chance was revealed, he limped across the deck to Edward and threw his body into the crates, knocking enough of them away so that he could get a better look at Edward's wounds.

"Are you still with me?" Cecil cried, crawling over Edward's hips and frantically tossing off a gauntlet to press his fingers to Edward's clammy neck in search of a pulse.

"Ahhh…" Edward gurgled, seawater traced with blood escaping the corners of his mouth – but the man had no pulse, and Cecil couldn't feel Edward's breath on his face as the squelching sound escaped. Cecil's throat clenched as he yanked off his helmet, placing his palms on Edward's chest and compressing in rapid counts of three.

"Wake up, wake up…!" Cecil hissed, his voice cracking against the rising winds. All around them, he could hear sailors screaming as they were thrown from the ship and into the choppy waters below. The whirlpool was growing larger by the second, and Leviathan had now slithered over to the other side of the ship, smashing his skull into the remains of the battered hull as if to urge it along. Cecil pressed his ear to Edward's mouth, but still felt nothing. He delicately pinched the freezing-cold tip of Edward's bone-white nose, tilting his chin and covering Edward's mouth with his own as he forced two huffs of air down the prince's throat. The ship jerked back and forth, a loud, lung-rattling cough suddenly exploding from Edward as he reared back and spit up water in nearly all of Cecil's hair.

"Edward!" Cecil gasped, lifting his head to give Edward room to breathe. A sob escaped Edward's throat, and just as his eyes fluttered open, another shuddering crash thundered next to them: A shower of splintered wood and a sailor had come plummeting down from the destroyed crow's nest above. Cecil could hear the sickening crack of bones shattering a few feet next to him, but before he could turn to investigate, the silenced bell that had been hanging from the crow's nest came crashing down upon his unprotected head.

In a fleeting blitz of blood-tinged fireworks, the world fell away from him.

He was watching as she paced back and forth, a small worry line forming on her forehead as she continually gnawed on her lower lip. She was wearing a lavender gown that hung off her shoulders, her chest and neck exposed save for the petite diamond pendant hanging just above her breasts. The gown swept back and forth as she turned and crossed the room again, her feet bare against the dusty wooden floors.

"She was absolutely furious," Rosa continued, her fingers twitching at her sides. "Even more so when I said I was doing it because of her!"

Cecil frowned and tapped his foot against the base of the bed he had been sitting on. They were inside a bedchamber at the inn that was just down the street from Rosa's house in Baron. Cecil had been sitting at the bar only moments ago with Kain when Rosa had come bursting in, tears in her eyes as she immediately spotted Cecil and ran straight for him. Kain politely turned away and started speaking with a fellow Dragoon that had joined them as Cecil hurriedly pulled Rosa into an empty room and shut the door. The latch had barely clicked into place when she launched into her tirade, and as Cecil had suspected before she had even opened her mouth, it was about another fight with her mother. They had been occurring more often than not as of late, and unfortunately for him, he had usually been the underlying cause of them all.

Finally, he lifted his head, resting his chin on his folded hands. "And she said the same as always, right? That she watched your father die in battle. That she doesn't want you to go through that same heartbreak."

"Yes, and Yes. But I want to be beside you!" Rosa cried, flopping down next to Cecil and taking his hands. "I want to be strong enough to protect the people I love, no matter what! Is that really so wrong?"

"No…of course not," Cecil sighed, leaning in and pressing his forehead to hers. How many more times were they going to have this conversation before something gave? "Rosa…you are blessedly talented in white magic, and your mother relishes in that. She's proud that you're good enough to train among the best of the best white mages in service to His Highness. You and I both know she thinks you are too willing to throw your life and your potential away on the battlefield."

"But it's my life, and I choose to go wherever you go," Rosa sniffled. "I can fend for myself! I'm nobody's burden!"

Cecil lowered his gaze, watching the way her fingernails dug painful half-moons into his skin, but even then, not wanting to tear himself away. A couple weeks ago, this conversation might have taken a different turn. But that had been before he had become a cadet in the Red Wings and a trainee in the dark sword, and like a bolt of lightning drawn to a rod, it had suddenly hit him that her mother might actually be right about him being horrible for her.

"But soon I will start going on really dangerous missions – that is the path expected of a dark knight. As soon as my training with the dark sword is completed at His Majesty's request, I'll be with the Red Wings full-time. They do not take mages with them on their missions for a reason, you know." He sighed and shook his head. "I beg of you – don't try to sneak along with me. We'll both just get in trouble, and your mother will see to it that we never breathe each other's names again, let alone see each other. Is that what you want?"

"Cecil…" Rosa trailed off and pulled away from him, grinding away her tears with her fist. "You say that so nonchalantly…do you really care if we ever see each other again? I tell you that I want to be by your side, and this is how you react?"

"I…" Cecil's tongue was twisting itself in knots, and he was growing ever-more frustrated, thanks to the jumbling confusion of what was going on in his heart versus what was coming out of his mouth, and because he was maybe just a little drunk. "I just want what is best for you."

"Oh, really?" Rosa rolled her eyes and stood up, stepping into her purple flats and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her. A few moments later Kain stepped in sheepishly, trying really hard not to smirk as he took Rosa's place beside Cecil.

"Trouble with the old ball and chain, eh?"

"I don't understand girls," Cecil mumbled, falling back on the bed. "And I need another drink."

"I agree!" Kain grinned, pulling Cecil's arm over his shoulder and hauling him up from the bed. "Just let Rosa cool off for a while. You know how stubborn she can be. She's probably just worried that you're going to meet some hot dancing girl now that you're a distinguished Red Wing, and that she'll have to settle for me instead."

"Ha," Cecil shook his head. Even when being wholly inappropriate, Kain could always make him smile. "I am trying to do the right thing – trying to conduct a proper courtship – her mother hates me enough as it is. She has to know that I want to be with her too, right?"

"It will be OK," Kain assured him. "But in case you haven't figured it out yet, Rosa doesn't like to play by the rules."

"Just like you!" Cecil laughed unnecessarily loud, his previous round of drink bubbling back up into his brain like champagne fizz. "Let's get another bottle of Bacchus Wine, shall we?"

"Caaaw! Caw! Ke-ke-ke…"

"Uhn…Ugh…"

Cecil opened his eyes, shaken awake by the strained warbling he hadn't recognized as coming from his own sandpaper-coated throat. He could see nothing but a sea of gray before him. What he wanted to see was the inside of that Baronian inn, filled with his comrades and alit with riotous laughter at whatever ridiculous story Kain was going to spring upon them next. He wanted a frost-lined glass filled with something amber that would burn away the aches of the day's trials and squelch the burgeoning seed of doubt in his heart of hearts that the most beautiful, spirited girl in all of Baron was simply too good for him. He wanted to see His Majesty's eyes alit with pride when Cecil's commanding officer reported his startling progress with the dark blade.

So, he promptly shut eyes again, and waited.

But alas…it had all been a dream. Or rather, a memory, from his sixteenth summer.

That had been when Cecil had completed his trial to be able to officially call himself a member of the Red Wings, and as a result, had begun his training in the dark arts. Kain had already been initiated into the Dragoons, and was quickly rising in the ranks – not unexpected for the legendary Richard Highwind's son, but exhilarating for those able to witness the birth of a new, raw talent, nonetheless.

With Cecil's newly-earned position came Rosa's declaration to her mother about her intentions to fight on the battlefield by his side, and all hell had broken loose. The remainder of the summer, and Cecil's first official mission with the Red Wings once he had completed his training, had come and gone without he and Rosa speaking a word to each other. He found out later that in one of her stubborn fits, she had allowed her mother to send her to a high-end magic academy in Mysidia for intensive training – and as a convenient bonus for all, it kept her far away from Cecil.

At the time, painful as it was, Cecil really had thought it was all for the best – it had been that brutal fight that had branded within him the fear of ever telling Rosa the truth that was slowly starting to come to light within his own heart – that he completely agreed with her mother about how his fate as a dark knight could very well end up destroying Rosa's life. He had even tried writing his conflicting thoughts in letters that he always wound up being too cowardly to post, but still kept instead of throwing them in the river.

But the longer they were apart, the more Cecil realized that despite all of the supposedly wonderful changes in his life, the hand he kept reaching for to guide him along his path, twisted as it may have been, was the very same hand that he had initially helped push away.

The year Cecil turned eighteen was when Rosa had arrived back home in Baron via the Devil's Road. Cecil knew the night Rosa was coming back thanks to the rumor mongering of the castle mages – everyone was thrilled that Rosa was finally coming back to resume her post in the castle. Hardly able to choke down his dinner, he had rushed to the Devil's Road gatehouse, anxiously holding a bundle of letters with a leather strap fastened around them. As she materialized divinely before him on the road's teleportation rune like a parched man's mirage in the desert, their eyes fell upon each other, and all Cecil could manage to do was sheepishly hand her the letters.

"I wrote one to you every day…that I did not hear your voice."

Cecil opened his eyes for the last time, a dribble of water escaping his lips as he launched into a sudden coughing fit that felt like a cat was using his throat as a scratching post.

The grayness he had seen before turned out to be the sky overhead, which was full of clouds that seemed to be rushing eagerly to the west, carried forward by an unknown urgency that he, a mere mortal, was not privy to.

"Caaaw!"

A seagull swooped down just over Cecil's head to snatch at a slimy rope of kelp that was inches away from his face, causing him to panic and bolt upright in a fluster. The bird squawked in protest and flew away, the fortuitous kelp forgotten – for now. He quickly came to realize that he was on a beach, just feet away from the morning tide that was still rushing in and out against the shore – which would explain why he felt utterly soaked to the bone. The pungent stench of salt mixed with sweat and iron assaulted his nostrils, and he briefly dipped his chin to inhale, only to realize the horrid smell was coming from him.

His helmet was gone, along with both of his gauntlets, and one of his greaves had gone missing as well. His memories, which were glitching in and out of his mind's eye like static from a radio, served to remind him that he had removed at least two of those items voluntarily when he had been trying to resuscitate Edward. A cold sweat broke out on his scalp as his hand instantly flew to his hip, only to be overcome with sudden wave of relief when he felt that miracle of miracles, the Deathbringer was still nestled in its scabbard.

At least now, if some of the local wildlife thought him to be easy pickings, he had at least half a chance of surviving the encounter. The question was…what exactly did "local" entail?

…Where exactly am I?

He slowly rose to his full height, wincing as his left foot immediately issued a throbbing warning that something was seriously wrong – it felt like he was walking on a balloon filled with water that was being pricked continuously by hundreds of needles. More and more of his memories were rushing back to him now, although none of them were anything good. It seemed that against all odds, he had managed to survive Leviathan's attack.

However, the ship itself, along with everyone else aboard, was nowhere to be found. Other than the thwarted seagull's kelp breakfast, there was nothing washed up on the beach alongside Cecil, not even a single slab of wood. Despite the continued pain shooting up his leg, he started to walk away from the direction of the stilled ocean, cupping his hands around his mouth as he hoarsely called out for the others, his voice fading gradually with each subsequent effort.

"Rydia!"

"Edward!?"

"…Yang?"

Somebody…please…!

After a half hour of limping about and screaming for help until his voice was nothing more than a whisper, Cecil found that he had wandered away from the beach and onto a dusty road that wound through an untamed prairie buzzing with the constant chirp of a million insects. Looking ahead, he could barely make out through his bloodshot eyes that the road eventually ended at a small town, enclosed in towering gates.

Cecil sighed, finally giving in to the despair that had been chiseling its way into his heart with each despondent step. He could feel the first icy jab of the dagger plunging into his chest, twisting gingerly with each whisper of his companion's names that fell from his lips.

No…not my companions…

My…my friends…they're…they're all…

He closed his eyes, silently sinking to his hands and knees as he lowered his forehead to the ground, his knotted hair falling over him in a salt-sprayed veil. The ache that had seized his insides had come so suddenly that he feared he might pass out again right then and there – he could hardly force himself to breathe through the agony, one low sob escaping his torn-up throat as he fought the acerbic tears that were setting his eyes aflame.

I'm alone, then…