Dead Man's Fantasy

by Soleneus

His name is Balthier, the Legendary Sky Pirate. But he's also called Saul in private. Why is this? The answers will come, but in the middle of an event that will reshape Ivalice, by the hands of six people. One thief and his childhood friend. A Princess thought dead, and knight responsible for her father's death. Two Sky Pirates, a skilled viera and a hume with two names.

3. The First Score and Escape

Saul's Journal:

Entry III:

Sky piracy is different from regular piracy, as should have been blatant from the name, though it is similar. For instance, both involve attacking other ships and stealing their shit while not dying in the process, and making a profit off of the stolen goods. The big difference is that, while one takes place in the water, the other takes place in the fucking sky, and that means if you fall off the ship, you won't drop ten or twenty feet into the water: You'll drop hundreds if not thousands of feet through empty air and hit either water or land and people don't generally survive things like that.

But while the dangers are increased, so are the angles of attack. On water, you've only got the surface of the ocean and the directions you can attack by, and you can be seen from every one of them. It's also true by air, but you can also attack from above and below and you have clouds to cover you. Plus, airships don't use open-air decks; people generally prefer to have windows between them and gale-force winds, so the only way to really fall off is while being on the outside.

…Which is exactly how we were getting in, of course.

Balthier slapped a piece of paper on their small kitchen table, unrolling it to reveal the blueprints printed on it. It was the schematics of a Rozzarian transport ship, the kind that carried a small crew and plenty of cargo, with minimal Imperial support. The best kind for the pirate pair to cut their thieving teeth on.

"The turret at the top is for point defense," The pirate informed his partner, tapping the section. "though the usual Rozzarian method of dealing with pirate attacks is to run away as fast as they can, so the first thing we do is cut the main engines." He circled an area at the bottom on the ship, between the hind glossair rings.

Saul frowned in thought. "Won't that make the ship fall?"

"It would, but all airships come with weaker secondary engines that kick in if the main ones get the ghost. After we take out the main engines, the ship will fall for a bit before the secondaries turn on. They keep the glossair rings spinning, but slowly, eventually setting the ship on the ground safely." He winked at Saul, tapping his nose. "At the standard airship height, it should give us plenty of time to grab the cargo and leave before the ship even breaks the lower cloud banks."

"And since we're in Rozzarian territory, the crew won't be on full alert." The broader man finished, a smirk on his face. "Which makes it easier for us to board."

Balthier nodded slowly with a matching smirk. "Exactly."

We bribed one of the managers for a ship schedule, which had time of leaving, destination, and estimated time of arrival, which we used to extrapolate where the airship would be at the right time. The right time for us, that is.

A Rozzarian cargo ship flew lazily through the sky, almost floating over a wide, thick cloud bank. It was a simple looking thing, for a highly-complicated flying machine, at least, rectangular with wide, stubby wings and thin windows pointing forward, a squat dual-barreled turret sitting on top. The engines on the back glowed, leaving soft grey contrails flowing behind it.

From clouds underneath, another ship emerged, wings folding out as it picked up speed to close in on its prey. The large forward cannons began to glow, a pair of powerful shots erupting from the barrel to impact the back of the cargo ship, just underneath the engines and between the spinning rings.

The engine sputtered black smoke and the rings slowed to a stop, the ship tilting forward and beginning to drop. Before it had gone a hundred feet, the small back-up engines flared to life, the glossair rings spinning once more, but sluggishly.

The Strahl, with a hull mottled in white and sky-blue as to blend in with the clouds, pulled up behind the slowly descending ship, spinning around so that their backs faced each other.

Saul lowered the cargo ramp, Balthier standing on one side of it while he took the other. Both carried hefty, blocky rifle-like weapons, loaded with broad spears. As the Strahl leveled out a little above, they took aim at the back of the cargo ship, firing in tandem, the kick pushing them back. The spears, trailing thick chains, flew across the gap, digging into the hull with small prongs unfolding to anchor the ships together.

The pirates set the grapples aside, readying their equipment. Both wore light armor over their nearly-matching vests, with light gloves that had metal finger tips and dark metal boots, both magicked to stick to metal surfaces to stop them from being thrown by gusts, though it wouldn't withstand heavy wind. If they were made to, neither would be able to move beyond a slow walking pace. They also wore face-concealing masks similar to Archadian Magi, to prevent their eyes from being blinded by the wind, and to make the Rozzarian's think Archadians were attacking them. Just to go with their accents.

Saul had a light mace at his belt, along with a slim dagger, while Balthier carried a slim sword and his rifle on his back. "Ready?" Balthier called.

"As I ever will be!" He replied as they grabbed ahold of the chains and stepped out into the open air.

The pair slid down the chains as the wind rushed around them, landing on the cargo ship's hull with a dull thud. Sticking to the outside, the pirates crawled up behind the turret, keeping themselves low to avoid being swept away. Saul nodded to Balthier, drawing his mace as his partner crawled around to the front of the turret, just below the sentry's sight.

Quietly, Saul stood up, bringing his weapon back. Balthier popped up in front of the sentry, making the man jump in fright and his partner broke through the rear window, dropping his mace and wrapping his arm around the sentry's throat, squeezing his windpipe between his arm and the back of the seat. Saul waited until the sentry fell limp, before releasing the unconscious man to seize his hair and slam his head into the console, just to make sure.

He retrieved his mace as Balthier crawled in, opening the hatch to the interior of the ship and carefully descending the ladder until he was halfway. He turned himself around in the narrow tube, hooking the top of his feet on a rung before using the wall to hang himself upside down, his sharp green eyes peering just below the lip.

The pirate took a quick look around, then pulled himself back up. He reached up and tapped the side of Saul's boot, gesturing for the mace. Saul handed it to him between his legs, and watched as Balthier dropped from the ladder, landing on top of an Imperial and knocking him out with a blow to the head.

Saul dropped out behind him, taking his mace back as Balthier drew his gun and they jogged down the narrow corridor. "This way." He muttered, taking a left as they headed for the cockpit.

A low red light illuminated the corridor, having been turned on by the engines being taken out. The pirates paused upon approaching the cabin, spying two Imperials standing guard around the door. As one, they twisted their hands in a practiced motion, lightning sparking to life between their fingers. They stepped around the corners and shocked the guards with Thunder, stunning the metal-clad soldiers and leaving them open to the knock-out attacks from a mace and the butt of a gun.

"There should be three pilots." Balthier murmured, waving his hand in a complicated pattern. "At my word…"

Saul hovered his hand above the door console, flipping it open when his partner barked "Now!"

Balthier swung inside the cockpit, releasing the Blindga spell he had made, three tendrils of dark energy whipping from his hand to impact the trio of pilots in the eyes, causing them to shriek in shock and dismay. The pirates rushed in, knocking the trio out before they could do anything more then flail.

Balthier took to the console, examining the buttons and switches. "The crew should be performing emergency repairs right now, so…" He flicked a row of switches, quiet thuds ringing faintly through the ship. "There. The doors are locked, so they won't be able to interfere."

Saul nodded in understanding, darting from the cockpit and back the way they came, leaping up and climbing the ladder up to the turret, slipping through the window. He crawled along the hull to the grappling anchors, which both bore a pair of gems inset in them. They were magicite, colored blue and the other orange. Slapping the blue, the prongs retracted into the anchor, and a touch of the orange activated the gears inside the Strahl, pulling the anchors back inside.

Saul detached the other anchor, grabbing it tightly as he hit the orange gem, getting pulled up into their ship. He let go as he entered the ship, sliding along the floor before running down the hall to the cockpit, grabbing the controls. He looped the Strahl around the cargo ship so that the back was facing the cargo ship's bay, jumping from the seat and rushing back to the hold, pulling a radio from his belt. "Balthier, I'm in position."

"Opening the door now." His partner replied quickly.

The bay door jerkily fell open, giving Saul a look into the cargo hold stacked with crates and chests. Grabbing the rifles, his fired the grappling hooks into the bay, activating the winches and pulling the Strahl back so that the doors nearly touched. "I'm in!"

"Remember, the most valuable loot will be marked with the Rozzarian Empire's crest, so grab those first." Balthier reminded.

"Right." Saul got to work, quickly searching through the hold to find marked chests and crates. When he did, he cast a variant of the Float spell, making the items he cast it on lift about two feet off of the ground and follow behind him. After ten minutes passed, he had a veritable conga line of loot trailing behind him. He rushed back to the doors, pushing the crates and chests through into the Strahl. Once that was done, he searched through the hold again.

The cargo was marked with specific stamps to denote what was being carried. Dark green for vegetables, light green for fruit, orange for baked goods, red for meat, and grey for weapons and armor. Floating a few of each into the Strahl, Saul turned his radio on again. "I've got what we came for." He couldn't stop his voice from shaking with excitement.

Balthier sounded triumphant. "Excellent! I'm on my way!"

Saul unhooked the anchors and got back in the cockpit, his hands twitching on the controls. Balthier raced through the cargo ship, his knowledge of the schematics coming in handy as soldiers followed behind him, shouting obscenities at his back. He burst into the cargo hold with the soldiers close behind, pulling an item from his pouch and dropping it to the floor as he went. It rolled to a stop before exploding in a blinding flash of light and choking cloud of smoke. He jumped the short gap into his ship, rapping the metal wall sharply. The Strahl pulled away as the soldiers recovered, coming to the open door just in time to see Balthier give them a jaunty, mocking salute as the door closed and the ship dived into the clouds.

Balthier planted himself in the copilot's chair, the pair sitting in tense silence as Saul flew them far away from the cargo ship. After an hour of continuous flight and silence, they set down on an empty plateau, the illusion around the Strahl fading to show its true colors.

Quietly, they removed their masks and looked at each other. "So…" Saul began slowly, his face twitching. "We just robbed an airship of all its valuables and got away clean."

Balthier nodded slowly, losing the fight as he broke out into a wide, ecstatic grin. The two pirates stood from their seats and hugged each other, laughing and cheering loudly.

Our first act of piracy together was a resounding success, to say the least. No one died and we got away clean with all the cargo we wanted, plus extra. The marked cargo held the most interesting things, from trade agreements to solid ingots of valuable metal and jewels. One of the chests was filled with gil, and another held a few rare and powerful Spellstones and magicite, all of it worth plenty of money.

It took a week to fence all of our ill-gotten gains, but by the time we had, we had enough gil to replace the Strahl's glossair rings, get the engines tuned and upgrade the guns until it was the most dangerous predator in the sky. There was plenty left over for us, which we spent on food, weapons and clothing. And a wild night in Bhujerba that resulted in me waking up the next morning with a headache and a woman in my bed.

Later, I heard that they found a note pinned the controls that read 'Your ship was riding low, so we decided to help out - Balthier and Lex.' I found out from Balthier that 'Lex' literally means 'Law', and when I asked why he called me that instead of Saul, he told me that the irony of a sky pirate named Law was too good to pass up.

The seeds of our legend were planted that day…

…

Another skeleton howled in pain as fire consumed its bones, collapsing in a pile of ash. The end of Fran's staff was driven through the head of a Mimic, the stolen power flowing back into the exposed conduit, the lights flickering back to full strength.

Vaan wiped the sweat from his forehead, sheathing his sword. "How many of these things are there?"

The quartet had been underground for hours, fighting through what seemed to be hordes of skeletons, bats and mimics, getting turned around in crumbling passageways as the lights flickered because another energy-eater was sucking away the power. It had given Basch the time to work out the kinks, and for Vaan to practice with his new spells, and they had come across more than a few chests with gil, potions, and few tufts of Phoenix Down; but just as many 'chests' had been mimics, waiting for them to touch it.

The first time that happened, the mimic had fastened its mandibles on Vaan's arm, giving all of them a fright. They had it killed in short order, but the paranoia stuck, to the point that Fran whacked any chests they came across, just in case they contained any crawling surprises.

The lights began to flicker again. "With as many of the damn beasts there seem to be, something must be spawning them." Balthier muttered, sending a Cure Vaan's way. "Ever onward we go."

They moved on through the passage as the power began to drop. A skeleton that assembled in front of them was frozen from an icicle by Balthier and shattered back into pieces by Fran. As they came around a corner into a corridor, Vaan paused, pointing. "Is that…?"

"A Bomb." Basch answered gruffly.

The round glowing creature seemed to pay them no mind, its face etched in a demonic grin, its stubby arms bouncing in time to its bobbing through the air. A mimic at the other end of the corridor chattered and skittered toward them from the exposed wiring, electricity wreathing its body as it jerked and twitched, send a bolt of lightning hurtling towards them.

Vaan got his shield up in time, cursing as his arm spasmed and went numb. Before the group could attack, however, the Bomb wailed in anger and rushed at the mimic, battering it with its body. "They don't like magick." Balthier commented dryly, watching the two creatures attack each other. His eyes went wide as the Bomb began to flicker and glow. "Back up!"

The group backed away around the corner as the Bomb exploded, kicking up a cloud of dust and smoke. The lights shined brighter after a second. "That was kind of it." Basch muttered as they found the twisted remains of the mimic.

They continued through the passage, thankfully finding what seemed to be a straight path that was wide and well lit, with the occasional bat dropping down to harass them. They stopped upon spying the corpse of an adventurer, a recent one if the level of decay was anything to go by. The others took a break as Basch stripped the body of armor and weapons after bowing respectfully, Vaan watching the traitor with wary eyes.

The adventurer must have been from Rabanastre, given the light armor that covered the shoulders, stomach and shins and the sandals. With the tight black and orange shirt, and his matted hair pulled back into a rough ponytail, they could see the soldier Basch once was, though it left the long scar that struck through his left eyebrow blatant.

Fran sniffed the air, grimacing. "The Mist seethes." She told her partner, her amber eyes fixed on his blue.

"We're getting closer to the end of this place," He replied, crossing his arms. "But, knowing our luck, the exit will be blocked by whatever unsettles the Mist."

Basch finished dressing, retrieving a longsword near the body and giving it a few test swings. His movements were choppy, but smoothed out as he went through a few kata.

Vaan glanced at Balthier, his visage serious. "He's walking in front of us." He said, not caring if the former soldier heard him.

Basch stiffened, looking at the young thief with sad eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but the pirate cut him off. "Still not the time to converse. Once we are in the open air, then we can talk." He ordered sternly, nodding down the passageway. "If you would take point, Captain."

Sighing, the traitor nodded in agreement and led the party further down. Unlike their earlier experiences, they saw only a few mimics and skeletons, and that put them on edge, an aura of danger building in the air. They gripped their weapons tightly as they carefully tread down a narrow corridor.

Fran suddenly spoke up. "I hear something ahead. Thick, viscous liquid and the thrumming of energy. We are coming upon the final challenge." She immediately went through the motions for Bubble, casting it on her partner as he formed Protect spells. Once their magical protections were in place, they cautiously moved on.

Balthier watched the viera's face, noting the minute tightness around her eyes and mouth. She was worried. Without a word, he slipped his hand into hers, running his thumb over the back of her hand. She glanced at him, squeezing it in thanks, the tightness fading slightly as her lips twitched into an almost invisible smile. He winked at her, nearly running into Vaan's back as the thief gazed at something overhead.

The pirate went to ask what the problem was, only to see it for himself.

It was massive, dominating the wide room, thirty times the size of the regular mimics, colored with bright blues and greens along the legs, with the thorax and abdomen bearing all the colors of the rainbow, patterned like stained glass. A pair of glass-like wings floated on its back and it gave off an electronic roar.

The tiny mimics scattered around the room sprang to life, scuttling across the stone to the multitude of exposed wires, greedily sucking the energy away, causing the rusted gate above the party to slam down.

They dove away to relative safety, coming up with weapons ready. "Go for the legs!" Basch called, crushing a tiny mimic under his sandal as Balthier fired at the Queen's body. The traitor and Fran attacked the long, arching legs while the pirate took shots at it a distance, and Vaan attempted to clear the babies.

The smaller mimics seemed entirely uninterested in fighting, flocking to the exposed wires to feed. Seeing as he wasn't making a dent in the population, Vaan turned his attention to the Queen, hurling an icicle at it before darting forward to hack at a leg.

Basch chipped away at his target, exposing a glowing vein beneath the metallic skin. His sword dug into it, shocking him but making the Queen screech in pain and collapse to the floor. "It falls!" Fran shouted, and they darted in to attack the body directly.

Balthier slashed at the Queen's head, severing a mandible as the others swung away. However, the Queen recovered quickly, leaping to its feet and flapping its wings, unleashing a gust of wind that sent the party flying away from it. It turned about, focusing on the tallest figure in the room, electricity crackling over its form before releasing it.

The bolt of lightning slammed into Fran, throwing her on her back with a shout pain. Balthier fired another shot at its head before dashing over to his partner, batting away the small mimics that skittered around her form. Quickly folding his hand, he sent a strong Cure at her as the Queen turned its attention to Basch.

The pirate scowled fiercely as Fran slowly pushed herself up, his hand descending to his thigh, his fingers wrapping around Invictus' grip. With a smooth, practiced motion, he drew the gun from the holster, taking aim and pulling the trigger.

Shot after shot ripped through the Queen Mimic, making it squeal and roar in agony. After ten thunderous shots, the weapon clicked to signify it being empty, and Balthier holstered it, drawing his sword with a concentrated visage. His body began to flicker and glow, his eyes narrowing on the large creature.

Vaan started in shock as his vision was covered in black, fading away to reveal Balthier standing in what seemed to be empty space, the room and the others gone. He couldn't move or speak to ask what was happening, and could only watch as the pirate flourished his sword.

Balthier took up a sword stance, his arm cocked back with the tip pointing at the still Queen Mimic, his form glowing with ethereal light. Then, he brought his sword down, the slash leaping through empty air to cut through the Queen. He swung and swung, the slashes seemingly cutting into reality itself. With one final cut, he held up his left hand, an orb of fire springing to life. The pirate clasped his flaming hand to his sword and brought it up, stabbing the tip deep in the ground. The earth cracked in a straight line towards the queen, glowing orange, and the ground buckled underneath it, a geyser of flame erupting from the stone, engulfing the creature and Vaan's sight. "Look out below!"

When the light faded, the room was still empty, but Fran had taken Balthier's place, her form covered in blue energy. She unleashed a fierce flurry of furious fists, still impacting the Queen despite the distance, before growling and taking a stance that caused the creature to explode in fire.

Once again, Vaan's vision was overtaken by white, fading back into empty space, but with Basch instead of the pirates. He held an orb of cyan and black energy between his hands, his eyes fierce as he pulled it in two, before recombining them and firing a beam of eldritch energy at the Queen.

The motes of light that had been filling the air glowed brightly, flowing into the air above the Mimic Queen and forming into a giant red-and-blue seal that shone with energy, before bursting into a massive wave of fire, washing over the room.

Despite the flames, Vaan's hair was barely ruffled, and he didn't even feel any heat, much to his confusion.

The Queen Mimic stumbled, its body red hot and sparking, collapsing against a pillar. The impact shattered the column and the wall around it, and a gate leading out. It must have been a load-bearing pillar, because the distant roof crumbled and fell, raining giant chunks of rock on the now panicking mimics.

The party slipped by the dead Queen, sprinting down the corridor as the passage collapsed around them. They raced into the open air just in time, the corridor crumbling with a mighty crash, expelling a cloud dust.

Balthier coughed, waving the dust away from him and taking a deep breath of the fresh air. He sighed in content, letting the low light of the setting sun wash over his grimy, dusty skin. He glanced at his compatriots, finding them doing much the same. Basch looked to be on the verge of crying with joy, his eyes closed.

"I never knew Dalmascan air could taste so sweet…" He whispered, the wind ruffling his matted hair.

The sun hung low and red in the sky, washing over the dunes and small rock spires. Vaan pointed into the distance, gesturing towards the thick blue river that carved through the sand. "We're in the Estersand. There's a little village just over there on the banks of the Nebra. They have a teleporter crystal there, and I think I have enough gil to buy a stone to take us back to Rabanastre."

By the time the party of four finished their trek across the dunes, the sun had truly set and night had fallen over the land. They had found the teleport crystal, which looked exactly like the refreshing crystals except colored burnt orange, sitting in the air, not rotating or glittering in the slightest, which meant the network was down for the night. And unless the group, one of which had been imprisoned for two years and the others had fought through the night in a sewer, had gotten, at most, three hours of fitful sleep before also fighting through a monster-infested underground passageway, wanted to also travel across miles of desert to city that was closed down for the night, that meant they had to stay put for the time being.

Balthier rented a quartet of bedrolls for the night, along with some provisions and they decided to camp out on the banks of the river. As he lit the fire, the pirate watched out of the corner of his eye as Basch stepped into the river, trailing his hands through the water like a child, before diving into it with gusto, laughing joyously as he broke the surface. The former soldier scrubbed the filth of two years in prison away with handfuls of sand and zeal, and when he walked back onto land, his eyes were alight and his steps were nearly jaunty.

The pirate set a medium cauldron over the fire, after filling it with water and herbs to boil for stew. He and his partner used their rolled-up bedrolls for seats around the fire as Basch approached them soaking wet, letting the heat from the fire dry him off. Vaan had stepped into the river a minute before and joined them a bit later, looking refreshed.

As the water began to bubble, Balthier pulled a dagger and began to cut meat and vegetables into chunks, throwing them in the pot. "Now that we're not trapped in a passage full of creatures, I think we should hear your story, Captain." He offered, his eyes flicking up to look at the traitor.

"You mean traitor." Vaan added, glaring at Basch over the fire. Balthier flicked sand at the thief, giving him a flat stare.

"I'm no traitor." Basch rebuked, almost sadly. "The story is not simple and I hardly believe it myself, but upon my word, I swear that all of it is true."

Lost in memory, his gazeless eyes fixed on the fire, Basch fon Ronsenburg of Dalmasca relayed his story to them; how he, after Vaan's brother Recks, had volunteered to hold off the Imperials while he secured the king, had stormed into the throne room with his troops…only to find King Raminas dead, and the room filled with Imperial soldiers. He and his men fought valiantly, but they had numbers, and one-by-one, his comrades fell until only he was left.

Basch had been captured, brought low by the Imperials and forced to watch as his twin brother, dressed as him, stabbed Recks and confessed to treason in his name. He managed to fight off his captors with strength borne of fury and attacked his brother, but the man he had once shared a childhood with had defeated him, scarring him over the eye and imprisoning him, never to see the light of day again.

When he had finished, the sound of nocturnal insects and the crackling of fire filled the night air. The thieves felt disbelief. His tale was too fantastic to believe, but they had seen Basch's twin, Gabranth, in the depths of Nalbina Dungeons, and his story made too much sense to be false.

"What…what became of your brother?" Basch managed to ask, his eyes landing on Vaan. "He spoke of you when we met, and I wondered…"

Vaan sniffed, his eyes red. "He's dead." He said bluntly, his voice low. "I don't know what to believe anymore."

"While he may have passed, your brother loved you very much, Vaan." Balthier spoke up, his eyes fixed on the pot. "If you must have something to believe in, believe in him."

"Recks may have been a soldier for his homeland, but he fought to the last for you." Basch added, his eyes sad. "It may not be what you want to hear, but I am truly sorry for what happened."

Vaan shook his head quietly. "Don't talk right now. I…I need quiet."

Nodding in understanding, the soldier turned his gaze back to the fire.

Fran, who had been sitting on her bedroll with enviable grace and poise for a tired woman seated around a campfire on the beach, reached over and patted Balthier's knee, nodding her head towards the water and leaving. The pirate added his seasonings, and stirred the stew. "Make sure it doesn't burn." He ordered the other two, before standing and following his partner.

He followed her footsteps down the coast, out of sight of the campfire and the village huts. He found her armor and clothing piled at the edge of the water, her lithe form gliding gracefully through the river. He undressed quickly, stepping into the cold water.

He stood by her side in the river, the water rising around his stomach. She glanced at him briefly before gazing at the moon. "I see danger in our path ahead." She murmured softly, her voice spilling from her lips like silk. "I…I fear we may not survive what is to come."

"All the more reason to live while we have the chance." He replied quietly, slipping his hand into hers. "Whatever danger we may face, Fran, as long as we stay together, we can live through anything."

"Saul…" He loved the way her accented voice formed his name. Fran turned to face him, her amber eyes gleaming with emotion in the low light. "Imperial ambushes, bounty hunters, and the great beasts we have faced are nothing to what I see coming. I am…afraid for us." She whispered hesitantly.

Saul brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently. "Don't be." He said simply, his hand reaching up to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes and nuzzled his palm, leaning on him. In the comforting silence between them, he gazed at her, as awestruck by the viera as the day they first met.

The reflection of the moon off of the water played over her dusky skin, her long, silver-white hair shining and cascading down her back like a silken waterfall. The length of her smooth legs and the tautness of her flat stomach and the rounded peaks of her breasts enticed and aroused him. Her supple lips and rounded cheeks teased him, and her glittering amber eyes drew him in like a vortex.

He turned her head and gently pressed his lips to hers, her arms sliding around his back as they quietly kissed in the moonlight. Saul pulled away, whispering, "Let me take your mind off of the future." He wrapped his arms around her waist intimately, then leaned back.

He enjoyed the brief picture of the stoic viera's eyes going wide in surprise before the water engulfed them both. He felt her strong, long-nailed hands pushing him away and he surfaced a few feet from her, chuckling. Fran stared at him in shock, before her eyes glimmered and her lips curved into a small playful smile. "So, that is how you want to play, you wicked beast?" She purred. "Then let's play."

She dove through the water, seizing his waist and pulling him under the surface, trying to trap him. Fran had strength and reach, but Saul was naturally slippery, and she chased him around the small area of the Nebra, their route eventually taking them back on the bank.

Fran eventually pinned Saul to the wet sand, straddling his hips and holding his arms down, her caramel eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Twas a challenging hunt, but in the end, as usual, I won." She murmured, her voice husky and low.

His arms pinned but his hands free, the sky pirate waved at them. "Then, as they say, to the victor go the spoils." He tried to keep his tone even, but the way his heart began to thunder and his loins stirred betrayed him.

The viera atop him smirked knowingly, leaning in until her nose touched his and her eyes dominated his vision. "And what spoils they are." She whispered before kissing him passionately. Her hands slid up his arms and their fingers intertwined, and their bodies soon followed.

…

When they finally finished intimately exploring each other, the two came back to the fire to find Basch and Vaan nearly done eating bowls of stew. Balthier and Fran joined them and in short order their food was consumed and their bedrolls laid out. The pirates pushed theirs together and cuddle up under their blankets, and soon enough, the quartet was asleep.

When Balthier awoke the next morning, he was unsurprised to find himself wrapped in Fran's arms. It took a little bit of work, but he managed to slip from her grasp and knelt by the water's edge, cupping his hands and splashing his face. Sufficiently awoken, he bought breakfast from a cheerful moogle, along with a teleport stone.

He muffled a snicker as he found Vaan spread-eagled on his bedroll, his blanket twisted up. Fran was slowly peering around, blinking sleepily in the early morning light, and Balthier woke her fully with a soft kiss that made her ears perk up. She munched on a piece of fruit as the others began to stir, and within minutes, the entire party was awake and eating.

"Hey, I was wondering…" Vaan spoke up around a mouthful of fruit. "What was that thing you all did yesterday? Where the world went black and you started glowing."

"Oh, that?" Balthier wondered. "It's called 'Quickening'. People who use the Mist often find themselves growing a connection between themselves and it, and at certain levels, they develop Quickenings. It's where the connection to the Mist is strong enough that you can almost impose your will on reality, slowing time to a crawl. But anyone will only ever have three variants, and they are very tiring. For instance, you saw mine yesterday. I have the potential for two more, but what you saw is how that specific Quickening will always be, even if I were to wield a spear or an axe. The first time you use the technique, it's locked into that form."

The thief hummed in thought. "So, if I practice my spells more, I'll develop a Quickening?"

"Not necessarily." Basch interjected. "I, myself, only know the basic Cure and Thunder, yet I am capable of my own Quickening. It's more a question of knowledge, I think. I developed my first after I mastered Greatsword techniques and handling. It's entirely possible you will develop your own if you learn many Technicks or Protection magic."

"Okay." Vaan nodded understandingly. "I just have to learn, then. Sounds fun." He grumbled, before perking up. "After the quick-things, there were all of these motes floating around that came together. What was that?"

Fran spoke up this time. "Those are called Concurrences." She explained calmly. "When multiple Quickenings are used, one after the other, it excites the Mist. When it is excited in specific orders, the energies released combine to create powerful magicks like the miniature sun you saw yesterday."

The conversation died, and the party returned their bedrolls and gathered around the floating, sparkling teleporter stone. Balthier touched his purchase to it, clearly announcing, "Rabanastre." They were engulfed in light and a rush of wind, and they felt like they were being hurled through the air.

A second later, they were at the Rabanastre's East Gate, standing as if they hadn't moved a single inch. Pulling away, the party strode near the gate, which was thankfully bereft of Imperials. "I thank you." Basch said quietly. "Not just for freeing me, but for believing my story."

"Be careful here." Balthier warned. "To them, you're still a traitor. I would avoid crowds."

The former soldier nodded in agreement, before turning to Vaan. "Fates will, we will meet again, Vaan. I would pay my respects to your brother." He shook his head with a sigh. "The resistance will surely find me soon, and it would not do to keep them waiting."

Basch bowed shortly before making his leave. Balthier patted Vaan on the shoulder. "You should lie low for a bit, being a fugitive and all."

The thief smirked. "Most people in Rabanastre know me as a thief, and I know how to get around without drawing attention."

"Good man." The pirate said with smile, making to leave before Vaan spoke up.

"What about the stone?"

Balthier arched an eyebrow in question. "What about it? I think you've more than earned it." What went unsaid was that he had picked it off the thief this morning, but even holding the golden stone created a pit of unease in his stomach. "Are you offering?"

Vaan huffed. "No, it's mine."

"They why did you offer?" He asked rhetorically. "Our regards to lady friend. Remind her to give my ring back, if you would."

Fran nodded to the thief. "We stay in Rabanastre for awhile. If you seek help or simply company, you may find us in the Sandsea." She left Vaan behind and joined her partner, who straightened his cuffs and looked at her with a smirk.

"Well, my dear, I don't know about you, but after spending a night in a sewer, a day in a dungeon and an afternoon unground, I could use a drink. And a proper bath."

She took his offered arm, smiling slightly. "We are in agreement, then."

…

…

…

A/N: So yeah, that's chapter three. As you can see, Quickenings and Concurrences will be used within the story, along with potions and Phoenix Down. I hate it when a story where things like potions and spells are part of the game and acknowledged in-universe, but stories leave them out because it makes them 'unrealistic'. It's called fiction for a reason. That would be like a Destiny story where the Ghost can't resurrect someone, despite it being one of the things that makes the Guardians so fearsome, even having a sect of thanatonauts who kills themselves daily to see what happens and why they remember.

It's dumb and I'm not doing it. They're going to present in the story, deal with it.

And despite the scene with Fran and Balthier, pairings are still up in the air. Seriously. I'll have to think of them more seriously later, but only when the full party has been gathered.

Also, the party as it is, is more cordial with each other, which should set the tone for future interactions between them.

I hope you enjoyed it and, as always, if you did, leave a review and let me know what liked and even things you didn't.

Stay Awesome.

~Soleneus

P.S.: The shitty relationships in so many goddamn stories: What the hell is with all the stories where the main character gets into a relationship with a girl and they all of a sudden become domineering? Like, where the girl treats the guy like a dog that will hump everything if it slips the leash for a second? Where they brow-beat the guy into doing things they don't want to do, and even scare the guy so much he hides behind someone else?

That's not a healthy relationship, that's an abusive one. And frankly, it's insulting. Relationships are supposed to be partnerships, not where one person is the boss. Boyfriend/Girlfriend dynamic is supposed to be interdependent, equality. Because a boss doesn't have equals, they have underlings.

Stay Healthy.

~still Soleneus